' little weeping angel '







carmens pov.

there were no quite peace like this.

atleast i knew no peace like this, perhaps this was what people ment by falling in love can feel like heaven.

this atleast was my heaven.

my safe.

my life.

my beating heart, beated for this, and this only.

dangerous i know because everyone knew as well as myself was the day to come where i was left alone i would be gone within the day vanished to an early grave the flowers by my tomb would be from my family.

all others would cry in joy.

i knew this.

i had prepared for my death since i could remmeber.

wished for it to come soner rather than later, prayed for it. and now i felt what i wanted from death, but i was still breathing.

i did not want to die, i never truely had i wanted peace, i wanted comfort to be wrapped up in a warm embrace that i though could only be found six feet under.

the same comfort i felt now laying here between two of the most wanted, lethal and beutiful men.

the same comfort i had imagned for years death would grant.

the comfort i yearned for.

'' the girl-'' santos started hesitantly breaking the everlasting silence between us, i dreaded that conversation, the girl, the litle girl, my replacement as degrading as it sounded it was true, she was a true copy of me.

i buried my face further into nicolas chest and santos contuied to brush his knuckles up and down my bared arm comforting me more than he could ever imagne. he pulled closer to me brushing some strands of har out of my face.

i hummed lowly afraid of the following words. please dont let her be too hurt, dont let her be dead. please god or whoever is listening let her be alive and well.

'' shes gonna live here with us... only if you are ready for it ofcourse'' santos contuied softly not once stopping his sweet touches on my skin. those innocent yet healing touches.

for a murdere he had the most comforting presence. they both had. '' yes?'' i hestiated.

a kid. a hurt kid. a kid like me. could i handle that ?

did i have a choice? that kid had no one else to go to, no one else to love her. she wasw alone.

i sucked in a deep breath '' where is she?'' i asked lowly quietly.

nicolas sighed a sigh of relief. he was reliefed. i was glad he was i wouldnt honestly want that girl to go to foster homes, i had been lucky with mine but i had heard stories. i had heard horrid stories.

'' upstairs, with eden and her husband '' nicolas said slowly '' did you know aspen moretti was your mother?'' he then asked.

brutal.

that was the first thing i thought brutal. brutal to know, i could've had a family. i was born inot a mafia and i was raised in a hell and then brought into another crimnal family.

brutal to know i had no other faith than this.

that this had always been what i was ment for.

violence.

i didnt reply. i did not know but i had known for a while now that the woman i had feared for all those years was not my mother, i had known we shared similarities but not enouhg to be related. i had known.

not whom my mother had been but who it hadnt.

i stopped myself rue was my mother, rue and adrian nystrom was my parents. always would be. '' her husband would love to meet you if you would want that... your biologival father'' santos added after a while.

did i want to meet him?

did i look like him?

did i speak like him or act like him?

'' yes'' i answered quietly.

i could not speak louder i was afraid my voice would vanish and my throat close up on me. '' lucia i want to see her'' i whispered.

'' lucia ?'' santos questioned confused.

'' the girl her name is lucia'' i said after a long breath. i asked her, i vagule remember it, she didnt know at first. i dont know weather it was her actual birth name or a name she fabricated from the deepts of her little mind.

i did not particularily care much for which optiojn it was.

if she said she wanted that name, that was the only name i would call her.

a fresh start, a new name, a new identidy, the same past but new person.

change.

perhaps that was what was needed, perhaps that was what i needed too- a bit of change. a new scenery. perhaps that was what i had found here. a second home to call my own, a house to make a home for a little girl.

a place of safety.





third person pov

weather or not carmen had cared much about her biological family had not seemed to be clear, on one side she seemed to want to know who they were, why they werent with her through her life.

on the other she seemed completely unintrestred as she for the first time in weeks passed through the corridors of the marino mansion.

there stood eden moretti or petrov whatever you wanted to call her nowadays. her husband xavier petrov beside her, his brother, right hand man, and their common friend veda voss.

a true group of pshycopaths known for unimagnable violence and war.

and there walked passed carmen nystrom as cold as ever not even batting them an eye. she did not even look followed behind her was her two men.

a powerful trio indeed and yet the woman in front seemed more uncaring than ever.

as cold as a corpse.

none of the people in the room dared to speak a word in fear of disrupting the young woman who seemed to be in a hurry.

'' carmen'' malakai morozova said softly quietly even. pehraps nervous was a better word for whatever unexplainable thing he felt.

that girl was his daughter.

the last remaning peice of his dead wife beside her twin, eden. that was all there was left of proff of their marige his and his wifes beutiful young marrige.

all there was left of it was a ring and a daughter.

the latter of whom looked for once at her biological father with a unwavering glance before she hummed and moved forward.

suddenly it became clear where she was headed.

'' hey little angel '' carmen whispered softly kneeling down infront of the curled up little girl on the couch in the far corner.

her hand reaching out ever so slowly to brush some dark strands of hair out of the girls face. she looked up hesitantly tears glistering in her soft doe like eyes.

''where is mama'' she whispered so only carmen could her. she almost flinched, carmen almost flinched by that sentence.

to familiar.

to close to home.

to much like her when she was first adopted.

where is mama ? not because of missing, or wanting for your mother but for fear of what might beceome of you if she is to see you now.

that fear was too familiar to the darkhaired beuty. to hurtful becasue she too knew that fear. they shared the same past, the same horrid past.

the same early childhood filled with fear and screaming. she knew that fear all to damn well.

'' shes gone i'll be your mama now little angel'' carmen whispered back softly gently running her fingers through the litlte girls hair.

and just like that everything seemed to fall into place.