They say that killing is illegal.
I say sometimes it's a necessity.
I'm not a killer, I'm a judge. A judge for people, whom the law couldn't reach. I am a judge, maybe unusual but one nevertheless.
𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝗮 𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻.
They call me a murdere...
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🥀𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐🥀
🥀𝚅𝚘𝚝𝚎&𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝🥀
🥀𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈🥀
⚜ ▪︎ ⚜ ▪︎ ⚜
"You don't lose a family, you just realise you never had one"
⚜ ▪︎ ⚜ ▪︎ ⚜
FLASHBACK 8 YEARS AGO
[Y/N's POV]
"Fuck!"
I hiss breaking the suffocating silence, flinching slightly when the alcohol soaked cotton touches the wound above my eye, closing my eyes I exhale loudly.
"You shouldn't have said anything," he grumbles putting a patch on my wound.
I slowly open my eyes to see my brother, sitting beside me with a solemn face and giving me a pitiful look. "Don't," I mumble, he raises a brow in response. "Don't look at me that way, I don't regret it."
"You'll get yourself into trouble."
He puts all the things back into the first aid kit. I stare at the black ceiling with a huge luxurious crystal chandelier, which hangs like some glory-cloud in the center of the dark room with black and red walls. "Mac, I was born into trouble if you haven't noticed." I retort, getting slightly irritated.
But in reality what I think is that I was born to be the trouble.
"If you're okay with all the shit he's doing, I'm not. I won't stand by his side when hell breaks loose." I growl.
"He's our father, a family!"
"Maybe he's your father but not mine. He has never been a father to me nor I want a father like him," Mac sighs standing up and only then I notice what he's wearing. A dapper tux hugs his slender waist, a black tie tucked into the collar of his white shirt. "Going anywhere?"
"Business," he mumbles in response, fixing his tie.
I scoff, "doing a dirty job for him, again?" He stares at me as if trying to see through me. "Nothing I say will persuade you not to go, will it?" He shakes his head. I lower my head staring at my hands. "I don't understand you," I whisper.
My brother lowers his body, putting a soft kiss on my forehead. And then he gives me a smile. A smile that just seems so genuinely sweet and just with the right touch of charm. It's the kind of smile that a mother bestows on her child, when they fall, filled with concern and love. He smiles with his eyes, eyes filled with warmth and safety. At that moment I find a home in his emerald green eyes, just like mine. Everything about him just screams what a wonderful person he is. The way he smiles at me with such warmth, is telling me how much he seems to be concerned about my well being.
