"Cool down." Gia said, knowing damn well the big guy wouldn't. His face was flushed from his emotions.
Rage.
Pain.
Frustration.
And then... Horny.
The rain outside was loud, thunder lit up the outside of the window for a glimpse of second.
Gia stood at the side at his office. His office that he had owned in his own big house. It looked like a principal's, or at least that's how Gia thinks of it.
"Nort"
Gia said his name, like it was some kind of a magic spell that would instantly make him stiff like a fucking dog.
But this time he won't.
Despite the automatic shift of his own muscle, like her voice physically have the authority to do so.
And that pissed him off.
Because the control isn't in him anymore. His own damn mind couldn't make him stop that split second of how his body runs for her.
And he hated that. Despite having it because he lets it at first, he had let her corrupt his system, it was too late to take it back, to turn back normal.
He can no longer go back into the cold, no emotions, douchebag that he was.
The ruler of the underground.
The Mafia of Russia.
The one who makes people's knee crumble just by his menacing stare.
He was a man who never cried. Ever since his own family shaped that persona, that vibe, that masked. Ever since he felt that sharp awful pain in his cheek when he was a kid, when his own father had slapped his face just because he had cried.
But that persona... Was treated like a toy in Gia's hand.
Something she easily took control off.
And ever since. He was changed.
But right now, as he point the gun at her, the inside of his eyes felt like a pressure that was squeezing his own vision.
Rage was vibrating into his own skin.
His eye's looked... Angry.
But Gia did was she always does.
Smirk.
"Do it. Since you're such a big tough guy."
Fuck her.
Fuck that smirk.
Fuck that voice.
Fuck how hard he is.
Fuck the world.
"Fuck you." He said through gritted teeth.
She just hummed.
"Fuck you too."
He felt like his jaw popped at how much he was clenching it so hard.
How could she...
How could she fuck some other men, and how could she make him act this way. Lose his shit over some dumb freaking reason.
He never thought he'd ever feel like exploding, just because some woman he's not even dating... Fuck somebody.
"Nor... I wasn't even serious with him. It was a mission."
There. She had explained it, he should let it go. Let it pass by.
But no.
Something stops him.
His eyes moistened.
Oh god, fuck no.
He's not going to cry... He tells himself. He doesn't cry. He don't cry.
He can't.
But he did anyway.
The moment a tear fall, his whole body goes rigid. Like he expected his own father to slap him.
He was programmed to just take it.
The gun fall out of his grip...
Yet he didn't felt pain. He felt her lips...
And her words... Soothing. Gentle.
And the way her thumb circle on his waist...
"Shh..."
This is what he becomes.
But at that moment. He'd trade the world for it.
