✧𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 & 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞✧
"Look at you baby, I surely turn my good little wife into a horny slut. Don't I?"
✧ Viktor is a ruthless mafia boss who knows everything about everyone like the back of his hand. On...
"Will you miss me?" She smiled with a sinking heart. The plants she loved so much and cared for would soon be far away.
Those plants too seem to have this wild aching inside them.
Buds begin to flower on the plants, adding a splash of color. Leaves danced and birds chripped.
Among all this beautiful things there still remained the aching.
She felt little snaps of her heart breaking. Her plants, the flowers— these were all she had.
"I will miss you too." she watered the plants for just a little longer today. She was unaware of when will her timespan with her earthly babies come to a permanent halt.
She watched the plants play in the wind, whirling with the flow for a while. Than she headed inside.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she observed the scene before her. It's not everyday when her father is at home at this odd hour of the day. It's whether because he's sick or there's a family function.
"Father," she put the watering wand on the kitchen island. Walking towards her father, thoughts clouded her mind.
Was father okay?
"Meet me in the office." her father turned around and disappeared upstairs.
"Okay..." she replied to the outlines of her father.
She padded upstairs taking two at a time. The door was ajar. She could clearly see her father sitting on the chair behind the table.
Anyhow she knocked on the door. It seemed appropriate.
"Come." her father didn't look up. One of his hand was resting on the table and the other one was pinching the bridge of his nose. He seemed worried.
"Father, are you alright? Are you sick?" Damia said with concern written all over her face in bold letters.
"I'm fine." he rubbed his face up and down. Damia couldn't help but notice the similarities she had with her father. From the way he refused to say that he was not okay to the frown cascading over his face making him appear a couple years older. People aren't wrong when they tell her she's more like her father in a way. She thinks that too.
"You should get ready." he looked up. His voice was hoarse and he looked worried sick.
"Ready?" She watched her father as a bead of sweat rolled down her neck. "For...?" She hesitantly asked not knowing what her father's reaction would be to her question.
