Third person's POV:

Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting.

Violet woke up and decided to take a shower. She wanted to start her day off in a good way, she wanted to stay positive.

But could she do that everyday for the rest of her life?

The answer is no. But she wanted to try, at least.

She got dressed and went downstairs to cook breakfast.

She was alone. Or so she felt like.

Silence. The train runs off its tracks.

She kept thinking and thinking. Her head could explode from the amount of thoughts it held.

But she pushed it all away. Pretending is the key, you know?

Then, came an idea.

So she went to wake up Silvia, who was obviously sleeping.

"Come on it's already 9.48 am! Wake up you sleepy wonderful woman!" Violet shouted as she entered her best friend's bedroom.

"Get the fuck out and let me sleep you psycho." She mumbled, rolling to the other side as if telling Violet that the conversation was over.

"I was thinking of going to Italy so we could be apart of the mission, but since you don't want-" And that was all Violet needed to say to make Silvia get up and almost break her neck from turning her head to Violet.

"Thought so. Now get up and get ready in 30." Violet laughed, leaving her best friend and going to her own bedroom to pack her things.

Violet wanted to go to Italy so she could annoy the hell out of Blake. Risk a few things in the process, like her life perhaps.

Violet wanted revenge.

Kiss me, try to fix it. Could you just try to listen?

She wanted to break the man that broke her.

When she started to pack her things into her suitcase, she reached for her charger and realised there was a letter on her nightstand.

How strange, she thought, walking towards it to grab it.

It was a simple white envelope, with a special handwriting at the top, on the right.

She knew that handwriting damn well. And everything was confirmed when that handwriting spelled the ruthless Mafia boss' name.

Blake Federico Ferreri

Without thinking any more, Violet opened the envelope and took the letter out.

Good morning, beautiful.

If you're reading this, then it means I'm currently flying to Italy, or that I've already landed.

You deserve an explanation, followed by an apology. I do know that.

Do you remember William, one of my best friends? He got injured and captured by the British Mafia.

Right now, we're all preparing for war, me and the others.

I don't know if I will be back.

But most of all, they could capture me too. And take you as a hostage to make me tell them what I can't.

And you, my love, are the only one I'm fighting for in this life. If they take you, they break me in the process and everything I've built will crumble into pieces.

And with that, also the only people I love will die.

What would my life mean, if that ever happened?

So I had to leave you, because I didn't want you to be a target.

I didn't fall out of love. If anything, I fell in even harder and deeper.

And if I do come back, you don't have to take me back. I know how much I hurt you, and I know we could've communicated. But in that moment, that was all I could come up with.

I am sorry, you really deserved better my dear.

And I want to be better, for you.

But right now, you have to let me go. And I have to let myself let you go.

I never cared about the women I slept with. They were just a quick fuck before going back to work.

But to you, I made love. It wasn't fucking, it was making love.

You were, are, and will always be the only woman that can bring the Italian Mafia's Boss to his knees.

Love was always something I was disgusted by. I didn't even think it existed. I thought it was all an illusion that people like to make up when they find a person they're attracted to.

You made it real.

And I will always be thankful for this, Violet.

Now, you have to choose what you want. If you want to move on with your life, I understand. If you're willing to wait for me, I understand.

And it crushes my heart, but I would like you to move on. Find out what you want to do with your life, what car you desire, what job you'd like to do, how many kids you'd like to have, what dress you should wear for a date.

Go ahead and live, Violet.

I will always be here. But you have to try to live.

In any case, choose what makes you happy.

Even if I'm not a part of it.

I loved you when I first saw you, I love you now, and I will love you even after you'll walk out of my life.

I hope you can make it.

Forever yours, Blake Federico Ferreri.

Violet didn't realize it, but she was crying.

It felt like the whole world was on her shoulders.

And it was crushing her.

She wasn't mad at Blake. I mean how can you be mad at the person you're in love with?

And now, she had to choose.

Did she want to start a new life, with new people? Did she want to live the life she was supposed to live before she met Blake?

Or did she want to stay and fight for that handsome bastard? Did she want to keep driving his Range Rover? Did she want to have his kids, and help him with work?

As she was thinking, the voice of her best friend interrupted her.

"Violet! Could you help me with closing this suitcase?"

Violet whipped off her tears and got up from her bed, making her way to Silvia's room.

"What's wrong?" Silvia asked as soon as she saw the face of her best friend.

Violet didn't speak. She just handed the letter to Silvia.

As soon as Silvia was done reading it, she hugged Violet.

"It's okay. It's alright." She tried to assure her best friend.

"But now we're going to fly to Italy. So I must ask you, have you made your decision?" Silvia asked.

They pulled away from the hug, and looked at each other.

Has Violet made her decision?

____________

And this is the end my friends.

There will be a sequel, of course I can't leave you hanging with this question.

I won't write it immediately, as you may already know. But I promise I will try my best.

Maybe in three weeks already(?) the first chapters will come out.

BUT I DON'T KNOW YET.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this and I'm thankful for every single one of you. Thank you sm.

Love you, your writer @thisbitchlovesbooks.