Is it wrong for me to want it all to burn?

"Do you know what hell is like?" I whispered, my voice an echo that wandered around the room.

Those were Lorenzo famous bloody first words to me.

Lorenzos first words at the bottom of the stairs, right after he killed my brother; my brother who was practically holding me hostage for 20 years and was actually a serial bomber who murdered my mom, children, mothers and dozens of other family's all to spite my father who was actually the leader of the Russian mafia.

What a paradox right?

I turned my head To try to find Marco, because I knew he was standing there in the darkness, just watching me on the floor.

The solid fucking floor, the only thing keeping my beaten body from sinking into oblivion.

Do I know what hell is like Lorenzo? You tell me, oh wait... I forgot you're dead.

Lorenzo do you remember when you promised you wouldn't leave me alone?

My shaky hand picked up the bottle from the ground beside me, half of it poured out, mixing with my blood.

Because Once again Serina wouldn't die, and once again I just had to refuse to die quietly.

I mean I knew Satan's fists swing more easily when he's not sober.

Not that he would be opposed to teaching me a lesson while sober. But tonight was all about how I wore my hair wrong.

I wore it up, tied in a bun, instead of down just like Satan liked it.

I felt anger grow in me as Marco didn't answer,
But he knew that an un-supervised conversation with me would give him a quick death.

Satan wasn't stupid, and despite his want to make me suffer for the rest of my life by looking at the man who murdered Lorenzo, Satan was not stupid.

Satan didn't trust him yet.

I pushed myself up into a seating position with a groan of pain, watching the blood from the cuts in my mouth and my bloody nose spill onto the beautiful marble tile.

What a pity, I'm spoiling the marble with my blood.

Taking a sip of the scotch It set fire to my throat, yet I couldn't stop. I can never stop. Because well, It will never stop.

Because I'm stuck. I'm caught in a loop of fate. Where days just melt together, thoughts and feeling get all muddy, and my mind switches from feeling heavy, to feeling absolutely nothing at all.

"I know you're there Marco, there's no point in hiding. Everyone else is passed out in their beds, drunkenly dreaming of tomorrow." I laughed as I took another sip and choked as it slid down my throat. "Well, at least Satan is." I chuckled again as I brought my hand to my lip, feeling the blood on my fingers.

Lorenzo blood was wiped on my face the night he was shot.

Feeling anger fill me I smashed the bottle beside me, the rest of the liquor spilling and sliding across the floor, magnifying under the broken glass.

"Wasting a good bottle of scotch? Lorenzo would be pissed." He finally said, as he stepped out from the darkness; Looking around carefully, watching for any sign that someone was listening.

"Don't you dare say his name as if you didn't betray him." I growled as I looked at him, feeling my eyes sharpen like razor blades.

He simply pulled at his freshly pressed suit, and adjusted his stupid collar. He tried to look so smug, like he was trying to get me to hate him more.

It reminded me of that night after I told him I'd kill him and rip out his heart, I snuck into his bedroom and held a knife against his throat.

That night, I almost killed him, and I wanted to. And I almost murdered him. But I didn't, Or well more accurately I couldn't make myself do it.

Fuck I wanted to kill him for what he stole from me, and I had told myself that I would, but a part of me now can't kill the person who showed me kindness when I was first abducted by Lorenzo. The person who showed me mercy when he didn't have to.

"Oh come now Serina you can't hate me forever—"he started, yet I grabbed a piece of the shattered glass and I threw it at him, it hit his skin and he groaned in pain.

He bent down with a grunt, and he grabbed the small piece that stuck out of his shin and ripped it out angrily, throwing it to the side we listened to it shatter some more. "You are so fucking petty." He growled "you are an un-disciplined psychotic slut." He said like he was trying to get under my skin, like he wanted my hatred and anger to rise.

And it kind of fucking worked. "And you are a coward and an un-honourable man." I spit with heavy breath. "He was your best friend. He trusted you with his life."

My knuckles and jaw clenched.

This was not the same Marco who showed me kindness in the cells. This was not the same Marco that I used to call my brother.

"well that was his mistake." He hissed as
He took a few steps towards me angry, just close enough so he could look at the blood and bruises on my skin And he stopped right out of my reach, and he crouched down.

Like he was assessing the damage, without having to get too close to seem like he cared.

His fingers reaching down and flicking around the shattered glass.

His eyes scanning the spilled scotch beside me.
"You know drinking yourself to death will kill you quicker then Satan can." Marco fronted. As if he actually cared whether I died or not.

"That's the plan." I smiled as I grabbed my stomach In support and leaned back again, laying my back flat against the ground, focusing my eyes on the ceiling.

"And what do you care anyways. After all you said it yourself, you are tired of babysitting Lorenzo slut." I growled, thinking to the words he said before he shot his gun at Lorenzo that night

He disregarded the last part of my words, like he didn't want to hear them. "You want to die?" He all but laughed, but I heard that hint of worry in his words.

I mean after all, he couldn't have spent more then a year with me, and not be slightly curious at the fact that maybe, the oh so strong and perseverive Serina Accardi was finnaly done fighting.

"Hm." I coughed as I turned my head just a little to face him. "Die by drinking yummy alcohol or become a birthing cow for Satan? Touch choice."

"So scotch is your as you say 'yummy Alcohol' choice? You hate scotch." He smirked right back.

"Well I do like to lie, so maybe I lied that I hate scotch, maybe I actually really love it."

"So it's not to help you feel like he's not gone?" Marco asked "you don't drink scotch solely to feed into your fantasy dream land where Lorenzo is still here to save you?" Marco growled with a smile

Like he wanted me to be reckless, and do something reckless.

"Shut up, or I will fucking kill you." I growled, as I sat up again and went to grab him, yet to stood and back away just in time.

"There's the feisty Serina I know." He smirked as he took out a blunt and stuck it between his teeth.  

"Screw you." I whispered with deadly intentions.

He pulled a lighter out quick, and lit the stick between his teeth with cupped hands.

Sucking in and blowing the smoke towards me.

He flicked the lighter on with his thumb his eyes moving to watch the flame dance,  "Funny how one lighter can burn something so quick." He smirked, his voice low and challenging as he looked in my eyes, and I into his.

He let out a confident breath before breaking eye contact and saluting me; he turned around and took a few steps and moved to shove the lighter in his pocket.

But instead it hit the outside lining of the suits fabric and it fell to the ground without a sound. And he walked away, leaving the gold encrusted lighter laying on the floor.

A gold encrusted lighter, is he fucking serious?

I watched as he walked out of the massive living room cockily, and a wicked smile spread on my face.

You want to see how fucking funny it is to watch things burn quickly Marco? Alright then.

how Funny would it be that everything here will burn with the thing that I lost inside me.

Fire.

Drop some theories here •

Because I'm curious as to what you all think is going to happen.

Also sorry this chapter is short, I had massive writers block and just couldn't get it right. So I just wrote this, and I kinda like it I guess. Well if your reading this then you read the chapter already so no going back I guess.

Xoxo- AbigalKnightly