Serina Accardi had everything, and wanted for nothing. Her brother gave her whatever she desired, but kept the parts of her destined world out of her reach.
Until she lost everything in one night to a man who's eyes looks like the devils wrath.
Th...
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"Do you know what hell is like?" I whispered, my voice an echo that wandered around the room.
Those were Lorenzo famous bloody first words to me.
Lorenzos first words at the bottom of the stairs, right after he killed my brother; my brother who was practically holding me hostage for 20 years and was actually a serial bomber who murdered my mom, children, mothers and dozens of other family's all to spite my father who was actually the leader of the Russian mafia.
What a paradox right?
I turned my head To try to find Marco, because I knew he was standing there in the darkness, just watching me on the floor.
The solid fucking floor, the only thing keeping my beaten body from sinking into oblivion.
Do I know what hell is like Lorenzo? You tell me, oh wait... I forgot you're dead.
Lorenzo do you remember when you promised you wouldn't leave me alone?
My shaky hand picked up the bottle from the ground beside me, half of it poured out, mixing with my blood.
Because Once again Serina wouldn't die, and once again I just had to refuse to die quietly.
I mean I knew Satan's fists swing more easily when he's not sober.
Not that he would be opposed to teaching me a lesson while sober. But tonight was all about how I wore my hair wrong.
I wore it up, tied in a bun, instead of down just like Satan liked it.
I felt anger grow in me as Marco didn't answer, But he knew that an un-supervised conversation with me would give him a quick death.
Satan wasn't stupid, and despite his want to make me suffer for the rest of my life by looking at the man who murdered Lorenzo, Satan was not stupid.
Satan didn't trust him yet.
I pushed myself up into a seating position with a groan of pain, watching the blood from the cuts in my mouth and my bloody nose spill onto the beautiful marble tile.
What a pity, I'm spoiling the marble with my blood.
Taking a sip of the scotch It set fire to my throat, yet I couldn't stop. I can never stop. Because well, It will never stop.
Because I'm stuck. I'm caught in a loop of fate. Where days just melt together, thoughts and feeling get all muddy, and my mind switches from feeling heavy, to feeling absolutely nothing at all.
"I know you're there Marco, there's no point in hiding. Everyone else is passed out in their beds, drunkenly dreaming of tomorrow." I laughed as I took another sip and choked as it slid down my throat. "Well, at least Satan is." I chuckled again as I brought my hand to my lip, feeling the blood on my fingers.
