Chapter 19- The Break Up

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*Brielle POV

A soft touch from his bloody hands grazed my cheek, causing me to jump.

"Please don't hurt me. Please. I won't tell a soul. Please," I beg, still clenching every muscle in my body.

"Brielle," Lars whispers, "I would never hurt you, love. But right now, you need to get out of here."

I don't know what snapped me out of it, but I turned and I ran. And when I say I ran, I mean I sprinted as fast as my legs would take me.

I don't know where I'm going to, but I know I've got to get the hell out of here.

'What the hell is happening?!' I think to myself, my brain running 1000 miles per hour.

After walking around, trying to stop myself from spiraling into a panic attack, I make it back to my apartment, triple checking to make sure I've locked all the locks.

'What do I do now? I can't stay here!' My brain yells at me.

I don't know why, but I just started packing. Pulling out my small suitcase, I start throwing in the simplest of clothes and just the basic personal products I need.

"Where am I going?! What am I doing?!" I cry out, confused and hurt.

A knock at my door makes my blood run cold. 'Omg, he's here. He's going to kill me,' I instantly think.

"Brielle, please let me in," Lars' voice sounds desperate.

"No!" I exclaim. "No, you're going to kill me!"

"Brielle, I would never. Please let me in."

I grab a knife out of my kitchen drawer and hide it behind my back, then slowly go answer the door.

"Fine, but I texted Eva that if I die, it's your fault." I bluff.

Lars chuckles light heartedly while he walks into my apartment, closes the door, and takes a seat on the couch.

He's all cleaned up at this point, in a perfect fitting custom suit and smells of his normal clean and sexy scent. Not a hair out of place.

"Who are you?" I blurt out.

His face twists in confusion, as if he wants to tell me, but isn't sure if he should. After taking a moment, he takes a breath.

"Brielle, you have to know, I would never hurt you. And I never wanted to involve you in this."

His voice and face so full of sincerity, I believe him.

"I'm Lars Moretti. CEO of Black Ink Enterprises. But what I haven't told you is, I'm the head of the American mafia."

His face searches my face for any clues of how I'm feeling.

"What. The. Fuck?" I say, not knowing what else to say.

"I know you have a lot of questions, please just talk to me and I'll answer anything." Lars begs.

"I've been dating the head of the fucking mafia this whole time?" I ask slowly.

He nods his head.

Out of nowhere, I bust out laughing. Doubled over, laughing so hard.

Lars' cocks his head to the side, baffled at my outburst.

Once I've calmed down, I wipe the tears off my face. "You mean, I ran from Charleston because of my stalker, abusive ex boyfriend...and end up dating the guy in charge of the fucking MAFIA?! Oh lord Jesus, someone help me and my taste in men."

"Babe, please. Ask me anything. I'll tell you the truth."

"Oh, so now you want to tell me the truth? 6 MONTHS OF BEING TOGETHER, and I'm finally finding out about this?!" I half yell.

"Brielle," he begs, " I....I...I love you."

My heart drops. I've been wanting to hear that from him for so long. I know I belong with him, he treats me like I walk on water, we fit together perfectly. I love you too, I want to say back. But I can't. He's a murderer. He sells drugs and commits crimes and doesn't blink an eye about it.

Tears spring into my eyes and I cross my arms tightly giving myself a hug.

"You're a murderer, Lars," I say flatly. "You commit crimes, and thrive off of that. I will never tell a soul, I swear. And Lars, I love you too. But I can't be with you."

My heart breaks into pieces as I say this.

He looks down at his hands, nodding his head. He gets up slowly and comes towards me, pulling me in for a hug, kissing the top of my head.

I clench my eyes shut tightly, letting the tears fall down my cheeks.

And way too soon, his big body is no longer holding mine. He walks out the door, closing it gently.

I let the tears go, and breakdown, falling to the floor, no longer holding myself together.

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