Mafia
(noun)
- An organized international body of criminals, which are involved in gambling, loan sharking, drug-trafficking, prostitution, and fraud, well known for having a complex and ruthless behavioral code.
"Ashton didn't know that he had capt...
I spent the last two hours watching USSR meme compilations because inspiration for ruthless Calum. And I love memes.
Also, my arm is bleeding so, naturally, more inspiration.
All the love, Lex🔪🖤
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"What if we fake his death? Ashton, Calum told me about the apartment incident. What if we use that to our advantage?" Michael stayed, kicking his feet up onto the large table the tree sat around.
I stayed quiet, looking at Calum for any advice. The man closed his eyes, head tilted back, as he thought.
"What do you have in mind, Mike?" He muttered, rubbing his large hands over his eyes. It was late in the evening; the whole day was spent trying to come up with ways to get Luke's enemies off of my back.
"Burn it down, make it looks like an accident where one Ashton Irwin died brutally in the fire trying to escape." The blonde man smirked, making me bite my lip.
"I-I Dont know h-h-h... fuck... h-how I-I feel about faking m-my death." I mumbled, feeling small under the tense glares of the older men.
"Then we don't have to fake your death, Love. Don't worry about a thing, Ashton. I'll take care of it." Calum said, placing his hand on my shoulder soothingly. "I'll always take care of you. Now, off to bed. It's getting late for little Angels; now it's time for the little devils to come out and play."
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Sun rays gleamed through the large glass window, beaming down onto my face with a warm glow. I sat up in the large bed, propping myself on one of the many pillows, as I looked around.
Calum had given me a spare room in his apartment last night, before he ruffled my hair and told me he had some business to take care of, leaving me alone in the large penthouse.
I decided to get out of bed and see if Calum was home. But when I looked around the apartment, he wasn't back. I peaked into his bedroom to see his bed fully made, never touched last night.
I sat down on the couch with Mr. Snuffles, waiting for Calum to come home. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Calum wasn't back.
Finally, at ten in the morning, a tired looking Calum Hood stumbled out of the elevator, collapsing on the floor.
I jumped from the couch and ran to his side, rolling him over. He was brutally beaten up, with a black eye, several gashes, a nasty looking cut on his face from his forehead to his cheek, and a deeper cut on his arm which was bleeding profusely.
