Dark Souls

87.let go

I slam the door shut to my office. Hoping everybody in this goddamn house wakes the fuck up. In 5, long strides I'm already at the office's bar and gulping down the first whiskey bottle in sight. I gag as its dry and oaky taste burns my throat, but still, I drink every single drop of it. There was no way I could be sober right now. And all the alcohol from earlier was already gone from my system because of the sudden fucking reunion at the Coppola's.

Goddamnit.

Fucking Gian has not only hurt Pearl, but Katarina too— and he killed my father and nonna. He probably tried to kill Martina too, but how did he manage to get inside the villa? Were the cameras really not functioning or is someone from the inside helping him? But who? Who'd fucking betray me?

I throw the empty bottle with force against the wall, breaking it into thousands of tiny shards.

"Fuck!" I curse, running both hands harshly over my hair, "What else? What else are you going to take from me, fucker?!" I yell, as if Gian could hear me. "I'm going to make you pay, motherfucker! You won't last the weekend. Especially now that I know what you did to Katarina. You fucking sick bastard."

I grab another bottle and throw it against the wall. And another. And another.

"Fucking son of a bitch!" I shake with rage as I hurry towards my desk and angrily swipe everything off of it with both arms.

Katarina must be devastated— Jesus Christ maybe I shouldn't have left her. Yes, yes, I had too. She hates me now. She would've told me to leave anyways. And I deserve it— I deserve her hate. I lied to her, used her when she didn't have anything to do with any of this. How could I have been so selfish and narcissistic! I turn and punch the wall behind me, fuming. I savor the stinging pain rushing through my hand. It felt good, and I needed to feel something other than this consuming hate and ache in my fucked up heart.

I press my forehead against the cold wall and close my eyes, tears welling them, "I'm so sorry, Katarina." I whisper.

In that moment the door bursts open, forcing me to face at whomever is standing there. Daviana, Russo, Victor and Olga gawk at me with somnolent faces.

"Is everything alright, boss?" Victor asks alarmed, stepping inside the office with a butcher knife in hand.

"It's four in the morning, Wolf. What's wrong?" Daviana asks with a yawn, tightening the straps of her tiny, satin robe around her waist. What the fuck is she doing here tonight?

The second they realize the mess I've made in the office their features shift to concern.They all exchange glances.

"Come, Daviana," Olga tells her, realizing the guys and I might need some privacy. "Let's go get one of the maids to help us clean this up."

Daviana looks at me first, her eyes quickly wandering to my left fist. "I'll bring you something for that," she tells me with a frown, exiting the office with Olga.

I hesitantly stare down at my hand. I hadn't realized it was bleeding and already turning a dark purple, but I didn't care. I only cared about one fucking thing. "We have to go for Gian right now!" I snap at Russo and Victor in a low voice, not wanting anyone else to hear us.

"You mean right now as in right now?" Russo asks skeptically, "Go to sleep. You're drunk."

Victor squints his eyes suspiciously at me, "Has something happened?"

I tell them everything I can before Daviana and Olga return, excluding the part about what Gian did to Katarina when she was younger. I don't think I could ever repeat such words out loud, plus it was something very personal of hers that I wasn't in any position to share.