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"My girl isn't fucking weak and there isn't shit wrong with her. She's a fucking force and her pain is her power." He paused, allowing his words to seep into my soul. "And her place will always be at my side, say it." He demanded. A few tears tracked down my face. My throat was clogged with emotions, and it felt hard to breathe, but I did what I was told. "I'm not weak and there's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force...." I swallowed. "My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Louder. I want to hear you." My chin trembled but the words that left my mouth next were strong and hard. "I'm not weak. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Again." His voice was a whisper against my skin, causing the tips of my fingers to tingle. "Say it again, Sam." My heart thawed. "I'm not weak." I said quietly. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm a force. My pain is my power, and my place will always be at your side." "Damn straight." He whispered against my lips. "You're fucking perfect. Don't let me hear you call yourself weak, Sam. Because you aren't." ° ° ° 𝗦𝗮𝗺 My life was mapped out for me before I could even take my first breath. I was thrusted into the corrupted world of organized crime and illegal trade. After being broken and left for dead, I finally got my out. I ran. I was free. And then my brother fucked it all up, dragging me back into this twisted form of hell. And then there was Spade, the devil in the most irresistible form. 𝗦𝗽𝗮𝗱𝗲 I was the King of the Cosa Nostra. The definition of violent and tainted. I was merciless, and in my book, there was no such thing as fucking losing. Things have always been the same in the underground, nd when you play with your life, things were collected. Her brother is in my debt, and if that debt isn't paid someone will die. This was just business, so why couldn't I kill her and get shit over with? She was just a means to an end. Right?
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