"If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.” -Anne Rice- *** Edgar's P.O.V Why do I feel bad about it? Why do I have to constantly regret what I have done? What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve a life in a hell like this? The blonde lady who looks like a younger version of Marilyn Monroe I just met on a nearby bar is purring at me as she removes her black lace bra, and she approaches me in a flirting manner, as she sits on the edge of the bed with a grinning face. She crawls toward me and again, my lips touch her red ones, and just like that, she willingly gives her body to me, a complete stranger, just like that, as if it is what she does every single time. I can hear her screaming words of pleasure and love as we proceed further. In my mind, I just want to drown myself in this moment before getting rid of her after I'm done. I try, I really do. But again, why does this feel so wrong? Even through all the temporary pleasure I feel from female strangers, no matter how many times my lips and tongue have touched those creature's flesh, and no matter how much dizziness I have felt every time it is done, I have never truly found a meaning from it. Somehow, the more I do it, the more I feel disgusted by my own doing, I don't know since when I have felt such a feeling, it's like I am gradually changing. My mind cannot falter from the memories from a few days ago. The moment when I kiss Phoebe, the little hostage. Her lips, her pale eyes, and her tears, those images just keep on popping in my mind, it is haunting me for a reason, and it triggers my sanity line. I can't do this. For the first time, I can't do this because I feel so disgusted. I push the woman from the top of me and I can see her confused gaze. "What's wrong, hun, we were just about to get on the interesting part." I put on my clothes and about to head outside when this woman touches my hand, and it pisses me off in an instant, and I push her hands away, and grab her throat, "Forget about this, if you wish to live." She almost runs out of breath when I release my hand and I get out from this damned place. I don't feel like going home tonight. I haven't spoken to her in almost a week since that incident, and somehow, it's killing me. I have always focused on my other plans to bring Pietro's empire down like I have always been instead, something to get my mind off from her. Now? I have killed a few more of his people this past week whenever I had a chance to, but just it seems like it's easy for him to just recruit new members whenever the old ones are dead, just like how I do it, but unlike him, I have learned from my father that even the men under my command deserve to be appreciated, but for him, they are just pawns on a chessboard. The only way to end this is by killing Pietro himself, but, for some reason, it's harder than I thought it was, he has guards on him all the time, but if I'm able to do so, then I will get back my father's empire. Because it's the rule we have, when a mafia organization is down, what belongs to them will belong to whoever defeat them, and those who refuse to pledge their loyalty to the new boss, will be executed. Welcome to the dark side of life. Maybe I'll just go get something to drink. I'm planning on getting drunk tonight so I call Nikolai and Viktor to come along with me because I need someone to guard my back while I'm on it. Of course, they wouldn't be able to refuse, and so we hit on the nearest bar in town, and get our seat. The bartender approaches our and he asks us what we want to drink. "Russian blue, wine and..." Viktor looks at me to ask what I want. "A really strong Vodka for me." "Yeah, that." Viktor turns back at the bartender and he prepared our drinks. Viktor looks at my face and he begins talking. "What's wrong, bro, why do you look like that?" "Shut up, Viktor!" I reply to him, right then the bartender comes with our drink. Viktor's Russian blue, Nikolai's wine, and my vodka. It takes less than five seconds for me to grab the small glass and take the whole vodka in just one shot, and this action makes both of the guys look at me in a worried expression. "Another glass." I shout to the bartender, and he immediately comes with another one, and just like the last time, I drink it in one shot. I seriously plan on getting drunk right now and I'm not planning to stop until I get really drunk. Yeah, I know, I am a fool, but who cares, I only have one purpose on this life and I'll probably just die after it's all done, so who cares if I get sick now. Our next mission is in three days, enough time to recover. After around five shot or so; I begin losing my consciousness, and both of them start telling me to stop, but I'm planning to get one more final glass for tonight. "Bro, you are drunk already, come on, let's go home." Viktor says as he pulls me to stand up, and Nikolai is guarding on the other side. "Fine, let's go home." I tell them as I stand up and about to walk but I lost my strength and can't even stand up properly, Nikolai has to help me by grabbing my shoulder and putting his arms around it. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. We walk into the car and Nikolai gets on the driver seat with Viktor besides him, meanwhile my drunken body is put on the back seat. Hah, I don't even care anymore if my body gets hurt, as long as I can get my revenge, then I don't care if I die afterward. None of us really speak on the car, or maybe I'm too drunk to listen. Even on my drunken state, my mind still thinks about her, and I wonder, have I gone crazy? We get home and both of them has to help me into the house because or else I would easily fall, like a weakling. Inside the house, I can smell a nice floral scent, a nice, nice, scent, it makes me want to drown myself in the scent, and soon enough, I see a red haired angel walking out from the kitchen, with her hair still wet, it seems like she just got out from the shower and she is wearing her pajamas. Gosh, she even looks beautiful in that pajamas. I don't want to look like a coward in front of this angel, and I push both of them and begin walking closer. "What-" she is about to say something when I approach her and I wish to reach her face with my hands but before I can do so, I fall and she catches me. An angel catches me, am I dead? No silly, it's Phoebe, not an angel. What am I even talking about? "What happened?" She asks Viktor and Nikolai. Her hair still holding my shoulder. "He's drunk, he had too much vodka." I curse them for telling her that, but I'm sure right now, my scent reeks alcohol. "I'll get him to bed." Viktor and Nikolai are about to take me away when I shove their hands away. Who the heck do they think they are to touch me? "Guess we have no choice, Phoebe, please get him to bed, I can't believe I'm asking a hostage for this." Viktor murmurs the last words, but I look at Phoebe and she sighs as she wraps her hands on my shoulder and help me to get in the room. I must be heavy, poor angel. When we finally reach what seems to be my room I lay on my bed and she looks at me with a pity look. Hah, even she pities me, yes, I am pitiful. She is about to leave the room when I grab her hand and pull her besides me and I hug her, so tight, she almost Loses her breath. "You're going to get your scent on me." She whispers slowly. "Let it be, just stay here, I need you." "You are talking nonsense." "Yes, I am, whatever, who cares? Just stay with me." She sighs slowly and moves her fingers on my face, which I don't really mind right now. "You haven't even get changed, you'll get sick if you sleep in this clothes." "I don't care." I continue to hug her, yes, I like this feeling, it makes me feel secure, she makes me feel secure, I need her, I need her, my angel. My consciousness slowly fades away, before I hear her say something. "Tu es un bon garçon, Edgar." (you are a good boy, Edgar)