Lilith @theheartsickdevil - Tumblr Blog

Heart on the Market (FINISHED SERIES) Chapter 5

WARNING: This series will include; NSFW, dead dove, reader is a serial killer, black market possible inaccurate historical slang and fashion, gore, alcohol, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, guns, mafia family, implications of misandry (male misogyny), perversive thoughts, nonconsensual drugging, gaslighting, harm to children possibly more to add.

I do not condone ANY illegal acts, immoral acts, or toxic relationships portrayed in my fictional writing.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (Ashley doesn't exist). Modern AU.

Incest is not Wincest.

Andrew Graves x Old school! Serial killer! Fem! Reader

Wordcount: 5,500+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, chapter 5, Final chapter (current).

You sat on the bed, your hands crossed as you pondered. While you waited for your heart to stop skipping, you thought about what happened. Your robe covered what little dignity you had, but it couldn’t even cover up the bite marks and hickeys on your neck. Andrew had his front of the robe open and loose, showing his chest, your engraving peeking out from the fabric.

You ripped your eyes away from Andrew’s chest so you could think about more important things

Alive? $100,000.

Dead? $500,000

Well shit, you’ll take that money in a heartbeat. And if you’re willing to take that money, someone out there has the same idea too, and they know your location.

You don’t know where a damn tracker is on you. You don’t remember there being a tracker on you! Nobody even told you of this! This must’ve been your parents’ plan. Perhaps all your siblings have a tracker on you.

It can’t be a clothing article—you’re wearing new clothes. And it can’t be a phone—you got rid of yours! And there’s no way it’s a car, you’ve been car-hopping.

That must mean the tracker is somewhere on your body, but you’ve never seen anything like that. What’s a place that can even be used to conceal a small tracker?

“Leo,” you spoke. “You got any idea of a tracker on me? Where it could be?”

Leopard sat on a chair in the room, his arms crossed thoughtfully as he stared at your ex-fiancé’s smushed eyeballs on the ground. “Well, Ms. (L/N). If I was going to put a tracker on someone, I’d put it on their feet. More specifically, a toe.”

You hummed, entertaining the idea. “Right… well, I don’t just want to start peeling off my skin in random areas.” You frowned, crossing your arms. “You think a tracker would be in an organ?” you questioned, looking at Leopard.

“I doubt it.” Leopard hummed. “Too risky. Especially for an infant if they put the tracker on you while you were young.”

You didn’t bother with asking Andrew’s opinion—you were still a bit upset with him snooping through your stuff. So what if you had a jar of your dead fiancé’s eyeballs around your neck? It wasn’t his eyes so it shouldn’t matter.

“Well, what do you think I should do?” you questioned Leopard. “You and your family have been working with my family for generations. Surely you must know something.”

“We could try doing an x-ray?” Leopard spoke.

“I can’t go to hospital. I don’t have insurance.” You huffed, blowing a strand of hair out from your eyes. “Maybe we could buy a metal detector?”

“Pfft.” Andrew scoffed as if the idea was stupid, which it probably was. “Really? A flimsy metal detector from the internet to find treasure on the beach?”

You frowned, annoyed. You wanted to ignore him. You were still angry at him from earlier and was resisting the urge to finish that wound along his stomach, instead just gutting his intestines out.

“Actually the lithium, copper, and galvanized steel in most trackers would make it easy to find something.” Leopard jumped in.

You shot Andrew a cocky smirk, one he had to resist punching your nose in for. You glared at each other, a frown on your face. Leopard noticed the tension, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well… I’m just going to go camp out in the Walmart parking lot till the store opens up.” Leopard spoke.

It would be best to leave the two alone to solve their own problems, he figured.

Oh yes, you can solve this alright. You’re currently thinking the best way to solve this is digging your thumbs into his eyes until they pop out, so you can step on his eyes like he did to your ex-fiancés.

You watched as Leopard snuck out the balcony again, closing the glass door behind him. You frowned, turning your attention to Andrew. Andrew didn’t look too happy either, staring at the eyeballs on the ground.

“Well? Aren’t you going to pick up your mess?” you spoke, crossing your arms as you looked at him.

He sighed, tired of your attitude. You were always bitchy. He was starting to miss when you were the social neighbor next door he’d get off to.

Andrew knew it wasn’t worth fighting you over; you were more petty than him. He knew if he kept fighting you, either you or him will end up hurting the other.

He gritted his teeth, biting back his words, before walking to the bathroom. He came out, holding some toilet paper, picking up the smushed eyeballs with one and wiping the fluids with more paper. He flushed everything down the toilet, washing his hands from the slimy feeling of your dead fiancé’s eyeballs.

Andrew sighed, looking at himself in the mirror. He really shouldn’t have agreed—or, well, should’ve left when he had the chance, like when she was sleeping or something. But once again, his dick got in the way of his logic. Or did it really if he was self-aware?

Well, they say the first step to getting better is acknowledging it.

Andrew came back in the bedroom, collapsing down onto the bed. While you glared at him, he looked up at the ceiling, before lifting his arm up, beckoning you to come closer.

“C’mere.” He spoke.

You huffed, insulted at his audacity. After he has the gull to be your neighbor, see your secret family business, get betrayed by said secret family business, hold a gun to your head so you can blow him, and smash a jar of your dead fiancé’s eyes—you were still mourning his death. What healthier way is there to heal than always keep a part of them to remember? It’s basically the same thing as ashes in an urn.

You ignored him, but an impatient snappy command of “Now” led you to reluctantly crawl into bed with a grumble. He wrapped his arms around you, to which you let out an annoyed groan and squirmed.

Andrew contemplated grabbing your robe’s tie and tying your hands together so you couldn’t resist him, but he knew it wouldn’t make the situation better. He grabbed your hair, wrapping the locks around his fingers.

“Stop moving.” He frowned, tugging your hair.

“Ow!” you whined, frowning at him. “Watch that! That’s the only thing good left of me!”

Your face was already fucked up, you had a tracker somewhere in your body, and your personality was as enjoyable as a skunk’s smell. There wasn’t much else to you anymore. No wealth belonging to your name. No reputation for you to uphold or cling onto. The only thing you had was a bounty on the black web.

Andrew frowned, looking up at the ceiling, before sighing. He turned his attention back to you, speaking.

“You know, I think our dynamic is pretty unhealthy.” Andrew spoke up.

“Really? A disowned mafia member and her hostage? Who would’ve guessed.” You spoke sarcastically.

Andrew ignored your sass and continued. “I propose we make a compromise. We can’t just keep arguing and beating each other up.”

You raised an eyebrow, thinking. Usually when you and your siblings got into a disagreement, you’d fist-fight it out. There’s nothing more useful than learning hand-to-hand combat at a young age. Smashing each other’s heads in walls, stairs, countertops, and poles were all just good practice for the future.

“What do you expect us to do? Every time we fight, hug it out?” you questioned, not serious at all about your suggestion. “When you’re mad, you’re mad. Intimacy with the person you’re angry at isn’t gonna help.”

“What do you enjoy doing?” Andrew suddenly spoke.

“Way to change the topic.” You frowned, looking up at him as he held you.

“I’m being serious here.” He spoke.

“Um… well… I like.” You paused, thinking. “Books? I like books? And I like to take walks. I like music, and I enjoy new foods.”

Andrew nodded. “I like some books too.” He shrugged. “I don’t go outside much, but I like music—probably not from the same decade as you though.” He smiled. “But… food is good. I like food.”

“So? We’ve established common ground; we enjoy food.” You spoke, raising an eyebrow. “What about food?”

“Everytime we get angry at each other, let’s find a recipe and cook a meal together. Food is always a happy thing.” Andrew spoke.

You hummed thoughtfully, looking at him. It’s not common for Andrew to take charge, not unless it was him complaining about something or threatening you; something you both have a terrible trait in.

But instead of just constantly screaming, breaking each other’s noses, stabbing, and fucking each other—you can break the self-destructive cycle you’ve both created.

“That works.” You nodded, smiling. “I can do that.”

“Great.” Andrew smiled. “So, let’s eat about it.” He spoke, reaching his hand out to the bedside table, picking up the package of Oreos he snatched from Mr. gatto earlier.

He opened the lid’s film, grabbing two cookies, holding one up to you. “This’ll do. It’s too late to try and cook something now, especially in Gallo’s house, so let’s settle with this.”

You accepted the cookie, the both of you biting into your own treat.

“…I have a confession.” You spoke.

“Hm?” Andrew hummed, swallowing his cookie in one gulp.

“I don’t like Oreos…”

Andrew paused, looking down at you resting by his side. “I’m going to ignore what you just said.” He spoke, frowning

You smiled at his dramatic antics, before closing your eyes too. “Night, Andrew…”

.

. A knock on the balcony door woke you up. Andrew instantly tightened his grip on you, cautious.

“It’s Leo.” You muttered, rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

Andrew frowned, before sitting up. “Stay here.” He spoke, getting out of bed and walking to the balcony door.

He opened it, Leopard stepping in. Leopard closed the door behind him, the glass showing that it was early noon.

“Got it. I had to camp outside the place; 24 hour Walmarts don’t exist anymore.” Leopard spoke, holding a box.

“Thank you, Leopard.” You spoke, sitting up.

Andrew snatched the box from Leopard, tearing it open. He read the instructions, putting together the small metal detector,

“Just like on the beach…” he muttered, twisting the handle together.

He held up the metal detector, quickly holding it up to Leo, gliding it over his body.

“…What are you doing?” Leo frowned.

Andrew kept quiet, hovering the metal detector over Leopard’s body once, then twice just to make sure. “…Just testing.”

He was defiantly trying to see if Leopard could not be trusted. It was like he had a vengeance against the man.

Leopard raised an eyebrow, not impressed. Andrew grumbled something inalienable under his breath, before taking the metal detector and slowly hovering it over you.

He held it up to your head. Nothing. He held it to your shoulders. Nothing. Your abdomen. Nothing. Your hands. Nothing. Your thighs. Nothing. Your knees. Nothing. Your toes.

Beep!

You frowned, looking down to see where the metal detector beeped. It was your foot, your left foot.

“Okay…” You frowned. “I didn’t actually think this would work, but I’m happily surprised.”

“So? Which toe are we chopping off?” Andrew questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Your big toe would be the most plausible area for a tracker to be.” Leopard spoke up.

“Yeah, yeah…” You frowned, stretching your foot, rolling the ankle as if you’d magically feel what you couldn’t feel for years.

“I bought a cleaver too for this.” Leopard spoke, reaching into the grocery bag on the ground and grabbing a packaged cleaver along with a first-aid kit.

Andrew’s eyes trailed to the cleaver, his gaze hardening as he watched Leopard tear open the plastic with the cleaver.

You got off Mr. Gato’s bed, not wanting to stain the sheets with your blood as you instead laid on the floor. Leopard kneeled down, the cleaver in hand as Andrew stood closely behind him, as if not trusting Leopard would just cut your toe off.

“Ready?” Leopard questioned, one hand separating your big toe from your other to avoid accidentally cutting two or more toes off.

“Don’t fucking talk to me—it’s adding suspense!” you snapped, nervous. Who wouldn’t be nervous having to be sober during this?

You closed your eyes, gripping your robe. Andrew came up behind you, sitting behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist in an attempt to comfort you. He watched as Leopard held the cleaver up, before you felt an indescribable pain in your foot. Andrew placed his hand to your mouth, allowing you to let out a muffled scream.

For such a small target, it took three hashes down for the toe to sever. You felt the small bones be forcefully broken apart, a warm feeling spreading throughout your foot as blood spluttered out, quickly covering the tile in rapid speed like unholy water.

“Oh my fucking god…” You gasped, shaking from the intensity of the pain.

It felt like every bone in your big toe was missing, even though you were looking at your severed toe.

“Holy shit, this is what I’m doing to people?” you spoke, panting heavily.

“Easy, easy…” Andrew muttered, rubbing your left thigh, as if trying to ease the pain you felt in your toe—or therefore lack of.

You couldn’t even see bone or fat, only pure red blood squeezing out of your nub. You couldn’t stop from crying, tears running down your face like the blood did from your wound.

You closed your eyes, a ringing in your ears, your head feeling light-headed and hard to keep up.

Closing your eyes for a few seconds, you opened them to see cotton and gauze taped tightly to your missing toe.

“Passed out for a few seconds.” Andrew spoke, watching as Leopard gathered the gauze and medical tape, putting it back into the first aid. “You need ibuprofen?”

“Give me four of them.” You groaned, grimacing at the pain.

“I would avoid walking on it and no shoes or socks to help prevent any infections.” Leopard spoke.

“No can do.” You sighed, getting up from the ground, Andrew laying a hand on your waist in case you fell. “We have some business to take care of.”

“Such as taking care of the remaining of your family?” Leopard questioned.

Your eyes hardened, turning your head to glare at him. “You gonna try and stop us?”

“No.” Leopard smiled. “I’ve noticed a slight reduction in my pay, a comment of my shipments being ‘sloppy’.” Leopard frowned, crossing his arms. “I’d like to show them just how sloppy I can be in person.”

You smiled, nodding your head. “Join the circus.”

Andrew opened the door, looking in the hallway to find a box. He cautiously opened it, finding a change of male and female clothes. He held up the fabric, grimacing.

“A button up? Again?” he hissed, annoyed.

“Cute.” You smiled, grabbing a light blue sweater dress and black leggings. “I’m going to change in it. I’ll meet you guys in the hallway, then we’ll go find Mr. Gallo. .

.

. “Another man, I see?” Mr. Gallo spoke, glancing at Leopard. “You sure know how to catch them all.”

“Watch it.” You frowned, crossing your arms. “He’s an acquaintance helping me out with this.”

“Whatever you say.” Mr. Gallo shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets “My pilot follows your orders. Tell him where to fly, and he’ll fly there.”

“Albany, Georgia.” You explained, your briefcase of money in Andrew’s hold. “The rest of the family is hiding out there—I can guarantee it.”

“That’s where the mercenary base is, correct? Would you like any of my men to accompany you?” Mr. Gallo questioned.

“Yes, that’d be wonderful.” You smiled. “Send them via car. Too many aircraft would raise suspicion. Book a hotel for us in *city* for two-days. I have a contact I need to recruit.”

“Who is this contact?” Mr. Gallo raised an eyebrow.

“Just someone who can help out.” You smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I can trust them. Let’s just get a move on. It’s a long flight.”

Mr. Gallo nodded, sending a glance at the pilot. The pilot crawled into the private helicopter, starting the engine. You and Mr. Gallo’s waved, before climbing into the pack of the helicopter, buckling up.

Once you took flight, Andrew looked over at you. It was difficult to hear him from the powerful roar of the helicopters blades, but you knew he said something about “Mercenary base?”

“Don’t worry!” you smiled. “I got a few associates that can help.”

You smiled, grabbing your cut-off toe you hid in your bra—what? You don’t have pockets—and threw it out of the helicopter for whoever on the black web to track down.

Andrew looked at you, disgusted, to which you just smiled.

Hopefully whatever groups are tracking you through that toe will be led to Mr. Gallo’s. It’d remove one mafia off this damn planet. .

.

. Helicopter rides are boring. It’s cold up in the air, there’s not really any doors, so you’re kind of just hanging onto your life with your harness. It kind of hurts to breathe that cold, crisp air. It doesn’t make you look attractive in the movies, because your hair is going crazy.

“So who’s this ‘associate’ we’re visiting?” Andrew practically yelled through the wind.

If Andrew’s learned one thing from you, your ‘associates’ fucking suck. He looked at Leopard across the seat, as if confirming it silently to himself.

“Just wait till we get there.” You spoke.

You didn’t want to speak about who you were visiting, not with Mr. Gallo’s pilot nearby. You eyed the pilot, which seemed to give Andrew a hint as he stopped talking.

When you finally got back on land, you were beyond thankful. Finally! Your hair felt dry and brittle, moisture stripped away from it after the hours of high-speed cold wind blowing in it. You seriously needed some conditioner and a brush, but you had to make do with the comb Leopard gave you from out of his pocket (which took forever and you’re sure you lost 1/3 of your hair by forcing the comb through).

You made it to a large penthouse, surrounded by bright green bushes, humidity in the air and white streak clouds. You told the pilot to stay landed here as your trio walked to the door, knocking on it.

An elder man greeted you, leaning onto a walker and smiling, “Hello there?”

“Mr. Coppola.” You smiled, a small bow of your head.

“Have we met?” he frowned, confused. His legs struggled to stay stable—a sign of Parkinson’s and old age bonding together.

“No, sir.” You shook your head. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N).”

Hearing your last name, he smiled, “Ahhh… (L/N). Yes, yes. I knew Mr. (L/N) when I was a child moving from Italy to the US.” He nodded.

“Wilson?” you spoke your father’s name.

“No, no. That was his son. I mean Davi.” Mr. Coppola spoke.

“Ah, grandfather.” You nodded.

“Where are my manners? Would you and your men like to come in?” Wilson questioned.

“Yes, sir. We actually have a business offer.” You nodded, tilting your head for Andrew and Leopard to follow you in.

Mr. Coppola used his walker to slowly walk to a couch, carefully sitting down. He smiled, licking his lips for moisture, speaking. “What can I do for you?”

“Sir, I’m unsure if you are aware of this, but the (L/N)’s has been facing some rather… unprecedented challenges as of lately.” You spoke, sitting in a couch across from him, Andrew and Leopard taking a seat on both sides of you.

“Yes. Yes… I remember. My men told me that your brother and sister were murdered. I’m sorry for your loss during these trying times.” Mr. Coppola spoke. “As time goes on, the crimes only become more and more dangerous, alongside do our enemies.”

“You’re aware of the official revoke of the (L/N)’s and Coppola’s treaty, correct?” you questioned.

“I am.” Mr. Coppola nodded. “It was when Wilson stepped up after the death of my dear friend, Davi.”

“I apologize for my father. I had no say in the matter due to my young age.” You frowned.

“I apologize for not knowing who you are.” Mr. Coppola spoke. “I was unaware Wilson had a third daughter.”

You nodded, frowning. It was to be expected. You had no need to be exposed to the public. You weren’t needed for any treaties, or business proposals, or information exchange—you were needed in the back with the dead bodies and suffocating stench of death.

“Such things are best when you’re in a business such as this.” You spoke, before fixing your posture, sitting up straighter. “I need your help, Mr. Coppola.”

“What do you need my aid for?” the elder man raised his eyebrow.

“I need your men to help me overpower the (L/N)’s mercenaries.” You spoke.

Andrew stiffen beside you, ready to jump into action; Leopard remained calm, ready to diffuse the situation by any means necessary.

“You want my men to attack your men?” Mr. Coppola raised an eyebrow.

“My ex-men, per se.” You corrected. “I’m sure you’re very well aware of my bounty, yes?”

“I’ve heard a thing or two, yes.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Your bounty is lower than I expected for being Davi's granddaughter.”

You frowned, unamused by his comedic jab. “Yes well, I work more underground.” You muttered, wanting to preserve your pride and ego. “However, due to the bounty, I’m in a bit of a pickle.”

“So you expect my men to defend you? Against the (L/N)’s?” Mr. Coppola raised an eyebrow; unamused himself.

“The Gallos will help you.” You added on.

“And payment?” Mr. Coppola questioned. “You’re only asking for me to ruin my old buddy’s business. I doubt my good pal would be too happy about that in the clouds where he lives.”

“50% of all the (L/N) profits go to you.” You smiled.

“50%?!” Leopard scoffed, not appreciating such a large sum.

“I don’t need all that money.” You whispered to Leo, frowning.

Besides, even just 50% of the money is a lot for you. You plan on splitting 20% with Leopard anyways. You don't want a big target on your back for having that much money.

Mr. Coppola hummed thoughtfully, before a smile spread cross his face. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that Davi was always a good businessman. I’m glad to see you take after him and not your father. Consider it a deal.”

You smiled, relieved. “Good…” your tense shoulders lowered, relaxing. “I’ll write down the coordinates of the attack, along with the time."

.

You fiddled with the jacket you had on, trying to adjust the bulletproof vest underneath it. Mr. Gallo and his men had provided you and your two boys gear. You all sported a bulletproof vest underneath jackets, cargo pants for inventory, and a pistol with four magazines in your pants pockets.

You don't expect to fight with the others on the sidelines, but you doubt you'll be free of gunfire or encountering an enemy.

The Gallos and the Coppolas stood gunpoint on both sides of the institution. Inside that institution, you knew you'd find your older brother, Alf, the caporegime who is in charge of the soldiers. If your hunch is correct, your parents and younger sister will somewhere inside that building, protected by a crowd of highly trained henchmen.

It wasn't long before (L/N) soldiers piled out of every door, getting behind bushes and walls for cover, stationing themselves at window-sills to shoot out of. They might be playing a home advantage, but the Gallos and the Coppolas outnumbered and overpowered the (L/N)s, even if the war was long.

"Here!" Leopard called out to you and Andrew, pointing at a sewer manhole missing drain holes.

He opened the heavy lid, taking a flashlight out of his pocket and pointing down to make sure there was no hiding (L/N)s. Leopard went down first, surveying the area with a gun in his hand. Andrew went down next, holding his arms out and carefully grabbing your hips and setting you down on the ground once you were close enough to reach.

The sewerage wasn't a sewerage, but a hidden tunnel for an exit in case of emergencies. You didn't even know about this secret location until now. Surely, your family would be hiding here, walking to this exit only to be shot down by you.

"Leopard, you go left." You spoke. "Andrew and I will travel right. Be weary of corners, and shoot anybody who is down here."

"Got it." Leopard smiled, cocking his gun.

Andrew and you carefully travelled on, Andrew in front of you to shield you if necessary. Traveling up the hallway, gunfire dying down as you walked further away from the fight just above your head, it didn't take long before you heard the sound of a gun cocking in front of you.

Andrew reacted faster, zipping out in front of a corner and firing. You heard the sound of bullet shells falling down onto the ground, along with the familiar sound of a body falling limp. You peeked your head around the corner, surprised.

"Hey, nice work." You smiled, surprised at his quick thinking and fast reflexes.

"I'm sick of all this violence." Andrew frowned. "It's gross to look at them dead, and frankly, I'd rather be sleeping or watching a shitty sitcom on TV."

"Soon." You smiled, patting his shoulder before moving on (not before kicking the dead bodies in front of you, just for fun).

You encountered the enemy every now and then, but the further you walked, the more soldiers there were, which only meant you were one dead body closer to seeing one you'd recognize as your own kin blood.

A stray gunshot echoed, causing you and Andrew to take cover behind a corner. You crouched and peeked your head out, recognizing three bodies.

A man with caramel skin and aging grey hair, your father Alf. A short woman with dotted freckles across her body and curly brown hair, your mother Orlaith. Finally, a woman with short, curly red hair, your sister and the consigliere of the family, Lorelei.

Your father had a gun in his hands, but his hands shook, a mixture of fear and old age. Lorelei held your mother in her arms, protecting her head with her body.

"Mother, father, sister." You spoke behind the wall, smiling.

"You!" your father rasped out, his eyes darting around everywhere, looking for you, "How could you do this to us?"

"You were the ones who preyed on me first." You frowned. "You paid to have me kidnapped and killed. It's not my fault of what measures I have to do. You were the ones who taught me to protect myself first."

"I never expected to outlive my own children." Your mother spoke, as if sad, but her voice failed to show emotion. "Vincent and Kimberly... They weren't even half my age."

You rolled your eyes, taking the time to check the amount of bullets you had. "Oh wow. This must be very difficult for you. It must've also been a difficult decision to have me kidnapped and murdered in front of Vincent."

"We gave you an option to take the bribe money or to die!" your father exclaimed.

"I did what I had to do to survive. But I must know, why did you do it?" you questioned behind the wall, looking at Andrew, waiting for him to be ready.

Your father stayed silent, before you heard clothes shuffle, and suddenly your father was in front of you, holding a gun. Andrew quickly took the shot, but your father pulled the trigger too.

Thankfully, thanks to Andrew shooting first, the force of the bullet caused Alf to move his arm and miss his shot.

You stepped out from behind the wall, seeing your defenseless mother and sister. You smiled, looking down at them as they curled up on the ground.

"Keep your eyes open." You spoke. "I want to watch them die."

You shot your mother, her head exploding like something of a Lovecraftian monster's face. She fell limp almost immediately, all while your younger sister cried.

"Finally." She cried, sobbing. "Finally. Finally. It's over."

You smiled, watching as blood poured out from your mother's head, before turning to Orlaith.

"I hated it. I hated it all." She cried. "I was never supposed to have this role. It was always yours. Mama and Papa knew too, but they knew you were too smart, that you'd leave, so they went after you. I didn't want to live like this."

Andrew stared at the crying girl, before you raised your hand, snapping your fingers.

Another gunshot as Andrew took fire.

Your sister's body fell face-forward, hitting the ground, her blood merging with your mother's.

"I know what a liar looks like. After all, I am one." You spoke, apathetic at the scene in front of you.

You turned your attention to Andrew, smiling. “Only one more left.” You spoke. “But I bet he’s already dead considering he’s not here. Which means he must’ve been up front in the battlefield, or where Leopard went.”

”You think Leopard can hold himself in a fight?” Andrew frowned.

“Duh. He has a gun. Besides, he’s only been with the (L/N)’s since forever.” You hummed. “Now, let’s get a move on and find Leopard.”

”Or I’ll find you first.” Leopard’s voice rang behind you.

In his hand, he held a bleeding head of your younger brother, Oswald. A man who was head of an army, and now head of nothing.

“Leo.” You smiled, glad. “Aren’t I so happy to see you alive, this is perfect. All we need to do now is track down the money and give our allies their shares.”

Leopard nodded, smiling. “Of course.” He hummed.

“Ah. You’re alive.” Andrew spoke dully, his shoulders dropping to see the other male.

“Always good to see you too, sir.” Leopard smiled, following you and Andrew as you walked down the tunnel.

The tunnel led to a ladder, to which you climbed and opened a hatch door, leading to an old and dusty basement. You got up and dusted yourself off, helping Andrew and Leopard up.

Once all of you were in the basement, you closed the hatch. You walked up stairs, finding dead bodies all around, along with some lingering soldiers of the Gallos and Coppolas searching the area.

Many doors later, you stumble across what looks to be an office. You opened the drawer, finding a safe inside.

“Leopard, if you would.” You spoke.

He nodded, sitting down to the safe, grabbing a stethoscope from his pocket (it’s best not to ask Leopard about these things).

You and Andrew sat in swivel chairs, spinning around for 15 minutes while Leopard finally cracked the safe open.

Upon opening the safe, there was envelopes of money, alongside with numbers scribbled on them telling them the amount.

You grabbed the envelopes, holding them out and counting how much there was in total.

8 million. Give the Coppolas their half, so 4 million left. Give Leopard 30%, which is 1,200,000. And you can keep the remaining, leaving you with 2,800,000.

You smiled, stretching, happy to have everything sorted out as you gave Coppola his money. Coppola and his crew left, leaving you with Leopard and the Gallos soldiers.

“Leopard, I have one final request from you.” You spoke, walking to the Gallos private helicopter, hand in hand with Andrew.

“Yes, Miss (L/N)?” Leopard spoke.

”Kill Gallo.” You spoke. “I know the man wants us dead too. After all, nobody would help us and give us so much money for free.”

Leopard nodded, smiling. “Of course.”

”And Leo? Enjoy your life.” You spoke. “I’m retiring, and I believe you should too.”

Leopard nodded, entering the helicopter. He waved goodbye, all while you and Andrew stood on the ground.

“Ready to steal a car?” you questioned.

“Not our first time.” Andrew shrugged, smiling. “But where are we going?”

“You know… Italy sounds nice. I’ve always wanted to travel to Europe and see all the historical sites.” You spoke.

Andrew hummed, before smiling. “Eh, sure, why not? Can ditch the US police after us anyways.”

“We just need to go home first. I have a cat named Georgia who I miss dearly…” You spoke.

You walked on, Andrew following close behind you.

Sorry this was a short series, I lacked a lot of motivation half-way through this one. My next series will be better, promise!

Don't forget to vote for the next series, tomorrow September 26 when I post it. Otherwise, I'm going to take a fat nap. I'll edit tomorrow.

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, chapter 5, final chapter (current)

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Lilith