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02 | Think

 And it did.

They had successfully broken me but I never showed it, never let them get the satisfaction. 

By the time It had been 6 months, I had enough and lost all hope on living a normal life. That's when he was thrown into the my cell. 

We had gotten close during that time, he loved me and I loved him. He made everything bearable, always caring for me, giving me the motivation to live, being my lifeline, being my best friend, being my everything.

2 years passed, I was 15 and he was 17. The night he told me, the night before my birthday that he had a plan to escape, he would take me on a date and take care of our baby. Even though it wasn't his. That night, during that mission. out of no where, an explosion, gunshots being fired, the shouting and screams of the people. Before I could register what had happened, he was dead and our baby was dead.

He died the day before my birthday. It broke me, haunting me to this day. I would get nightmares, him being at an arms length, but I couldn't hold his hand and pull him out before it exploded and I would relive that night again, and again.

The only person who loved me cherished me died. I was mad, mad at myself, for them to take him from me, mad at how they tried to break me. After the explosion, I lost all sense and all I saw was red and before I knew it I had killed The don of the american mafia, Steve -fucking- Reynolds. 

I still remember his screams that filled the meeting room, his blood smeared on my hands, his pleas for me to stop. I made sure, making him suffer for all the years spent getting tortured and for his death, everything.

The ways I tortured him-

I am broken out of my thoughts by phone ringing, I take a look at the time, 3:45. It's Jacob calling me..

"This better be good" I speak in a cold tone.

"Donna, we found the mole, he is in the warehouse" he spoke in a monotone, informing me.

"On my way" A smirk tugs on my lips, knowing damn well I can blow off more steam. Setting the phone done, I get ready again, wearing full black and my mask.

I still wear mask when I'm the meeting the members of my Mafia because they don't need to  know that a 16 year old is leading , though Jacob knows my identity, he's like a brother to me.

Getting on my motorcycle, I drive to the warehouse where we keep hostages and moles.

Arriving at the warehouse, I make my way to the dungeon where we keep the cells, specially  for moles.

As I reach the metal gates, The two guards bow their heads with respect and I nod in return. The gates open and I see Jacob hovering over a bloodied and bruised man in a chair. 

"What does he know?" I cross my arms.

"You won't know ANYTHING" The guy on the chair, cackles like a maniac.

One thing I noticed, the guy spoke with a slight Irish accent barley noticeable. That gave away that he is from a Irish gang or the Irish Mafia. Though I'm not sure it would be the Irish mafia, They've been off the grid for  14 years.  

"Donna we found out that he knows something about why you were kidnapped," Jacob's eyes darkened "he isn't speaking and is acting like a cunt" 

My eyes catch a blank ink under his arm.

 A tattoo.

While Jacob was in front of him, I moved to his side to get a closer look at the tattoo. It was a tattoo of a diamond in which was the roman letter  𝕀.