Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ─ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑
My name was Maria Wilson. A week ago I found out that was a lie. My name is Maria Guilia Romano, and I am a daughter of the Italian mafia.
At age 22, I met a man by the name of Christian Moretti. He took an interest in me and asked if I would lie for him. I said yes.
He took me to Italy, where I met his family and where my feelings for him grew. I found that the cold, heartless New York playboy with a reputation actually had a heart... and that heart cared for me.
A week into the trip we were attacked and I learned that he was the son of the boss of the Italian mafia and a son of the Romano famiglia's arch enemies, hence the reason my new family wanted me back so badly. Badly enough to kidnap me. That's where everything went to shit.
My best friend Katelyn died trying to save me.
The worse part about it was her death as very unnecessary. She didn't have to die. No one had to be hurt. I didn't even have to be kidnapped. Everything should've been normal.
But of course my life couldn't be that way. Normal.
Everything always seemed to go wrong... one way or another, and I was tired. I was so damn tired of caring. Why care if nothing was ever going to work out anyway?
Katelyn was dead.
And she wasn't coming back. Nothing was going to change that.
"Pay attention." Adrien snaps at me as I repeatedly hit a punching bag.
Most of the things I did nowadays was to distract me, same with Adrian, and that meant going to the gym almost 24/7. He liked to spend his time training me for the future... in case another incident happened, and I fought to get better. To be better.
I didn't want to think about it.
"I am." I furrow my brow and hit the bag harder.
"You're not." He replies, "I thought you wanted to get better?"
"I'm trying!"
"Well, try harder!" He raises his voice back, the tension in the room rising. We could both feel it. I could feel it at least.
"I am!" I almost scream at him in anger as red flashes in my vision.
Tears form at the corners of my eyes as I hit the bag in front of me as hard and fast as I can. At this rate I could break it, but before I could I stop and collapse against it as I cried. I was so frustrated. I was so tired. I was so angry because she wasn't coming back. She never would and I felt like it was all my fault.
