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NEVER LOSE ME

♧

FLO MILLI

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WELCOME TO another episode of me living with a complete fucking asshole I had fantasized about shooting in the skull 24 times.

My phone had been blowing up all morning—texts from my sister, Cassian, and even my mom, who only ever texted when my dad guilt-tripped her into pretending she cared.

Cassian's texts were a mix of his classic stupid shit and borderline helpful concern: "You alive, or should I start drafting the obituary?" "Don't do anything stupid...or at least let me know if you do so I can help."

My sister, though? Thoughtful but, predictable as always: "Can you just NOT kill him? Like, just for a day?" "Mom's freaking out again. You're giving her wrinkles."

My mom's texts, unsurprisingly, were the worst of all. Nothing but faux concern dressed up as maternal instinct: "Celine, sweetheart, are you okay? Call me." The sweetheart felt like it had been typed through gritted teeth. She probably had Dad standing over her shoulder, waiting for her to hit send.

The ends of my mouth twitched up at the image. Pissing off my mother sent an unnatural dose of dopamine to my brain.

It didn't matter. Dad was the only one who actually cared—Charlotte, too. Charlotte would step in and handle things silently, no theatrics, no condescension. She was good like that.

And Cassian? Cassian knew I could take care of myself. Everyone in my life did. My mother had done a great job making sure of it.

With a groan, I shoved the blankets off my legs and stretched my arms wide. The dull ache in my shoulder reminded me of yesterday, but it was easy to ignore. I found my bunny slippers on the floor and slid them on, the familiar fuzz soft against my feet.

I headed for the door, stopping in the hallway where the dent in the wall stared back at me—a not-so-subtle reminder of the heel I'd thrown at Antonio yesterday. The shoe itself was gone, but the damage it had caused was satisfying. Now I was regretting using a Saint Laurent heel. Next time, I'd go with something cheaper.

I could almost hear Albert's dry commentary about the mess. I didn't even care.

Antonio was lucky. Lucky I didn't aim better. Lucky I hadn't killed him. Lucky, period.

But then again, I didn't miss.

I smirked, brushing my fingers over the faint scuff mark left behind. Maybe I'd aim for his head next time.

"Good morning, Miss."

I looked up to see Albert standing by the kitchen table, a full spread of gourmet breakfast laid out like something out of a five-star hotel.

"Morning, Albert," I said, walking over to sit, still scrolling through Val's latest memes.

"How was your night?"

"Amazing. Almost forgot I was in an arranged marriage with an egotistical dickface."

Albert arched a brow, his sharp gaze catching on my expression as I took in the extravagant breakfast.

"Don't tell me you thought we were going to starve you?"

I snorted. "I won't. I thought you were gonna choke me in my sleep."

Albert's lips quirked upward ever so slightly. "He would've, but I slipped a sleeping pill in Master Antonio's whiskey last minute. He'd have no energy."

My eyes widened, and I let out a startled laugh. "You're kidding."

"Not at all, Miss," he replied smoothly, pouring me a cup of coffee. "I find keeping him unconscious prevents most of the collateral damage."

I took a bite out of a waffle. "Where is the asshole, anyway?"

"Master Antonio heads for work at 7. He returns around midnight," Albert replied smoothly.

"So, he avoids me the whole day? That just might be the best thing I've heard in the last two days."

"Yes, Master Antonio finds joy in spending his time training people."

"Oh, right. The training." I grabbed three waffles between my fingers and another two stuck between my teeth before heading upstairs.

Back in my room, I nearly stumbled into two young women—probably only a couple of years younger than me—cleaning and making my bed.

"Oh, sorry," I said, halfway through the door.

The one with lighter hair, stood up quickly. "Oh no, we're sorry. We'll go."

I waved them off as I tossed my oversized T-shirt to the floor, catching my reflection in the mirror. "No, I don't care. Clean."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the two of them blush and exchange a quick look.

"Uh, Miss Genovese—" one of them began, hesitant.

"No," I interrupted, turning toward them. "I'm not a Genovese. Not yet, thank the Lord. Just call me Celine."

Just hearing someone call me Genovese made me want to put to a gun to my ears and pull the trigger 2 million times. I would be have to go by that disgrace of a name until I bared Antonio's children, and since I had no plan on letting the man touch me I was betting I would be a Genovese till my impending death.

At this rate, it'll be a suicide.

They glanced at each other again before the shorter one nodded. "Okay, Celine."

"What are your names?" I asked as I adjusted my sports bra in the mirror. The day Skims had released sports bras was the happiest day of my life. I was a 32D and it was either the sports bras were too big or too small to fit me.

"I'm Summer, and she's Lottie," the blonde one replied.

"Lottie? Like Charlotte? My sister's name is Charlotte."

"No, its short for Lotus."

"Lotus? That's different," I said, raising an eyebrow as I grabbed a sports bra from my drawer and slipped it on. "You know what it means?"

Lottie nodded shyly. "Purity and rebirth."

I snorted. "Purity? Yeah, I'm not exactly a beacon of that. But rebirth? That one I'll take."

Summer giggled, nudging Lottie. "See? She's nice."

Lottie gave a hesitant smile. "I didn't say she wasn't!"

I wasn't surprised about Summer's comment. My siblings and I had all inherited both of our parents resting bitch faces. Plus, I'd just shot their boss last night and they'd probably had to clean the mess.

I leaned against the dresser, folding my arms. "So, do you two always clean up after Antonio's shit, or do you have other exciting things to do around here?"

They exchanged another glance, and Summer shrugged. "We mostly take care of the house. Albert handles the more... intense parts of working for Master Antonio."

"Intense?" I tilted my head.

He got more intense? Good Lord get me a gun.

"Well," Lottie started, clearly choosing her words carefully, "you know... the business."

Ah, the business. The big, ominous catch-all for all things illegal and dangerous. Typical.

"Don't worry," I said with a smirk, pulling on a hoodie. "I'm not about to ask for details. I already know Antonio's just like every other man in the mafia. Shady as hell."

Summer burst out laughing, while Lottie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

"You're different from what we expected," Lottie admitted after a moment.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "And what exactly did you expect?"

"Someone... quieter," Summer offered.

"And a little less—" Lottie started but quickly stopped herself.

"Less what?" I pressed, narrowing my eyes playfully.

"Scary," she finished in a small voice, her cheeks turning pink.

I threw my head back and laughed. "Scary? Oh, honey, you don't know the half of it. But trust me, I'm not scary. Antonio? Now he's terrifying. That smug face alone could send people running."

They both laughed, visibly relaxing.

"Well," I added, glancing at the clock, "I'll let you two get back to it. And don't worry—I won't bite. Unless someone pisses me off."

"Got it," Summer said with a grin, saluting me playfully.

Lottie smiled as well, her earlier nervousness fading. "Thanks, Celine."

"No problem." I grabbed my phone and headed out the door, muttering to myself, "First waffles, now the staff. Maybe this house isn't entirely a disaster after all."

I made my way down the stairs and toward the door, determined to meet the trainees. My green cropped jacket and cargo pants were perfect for the day—practical, but with a hint of flair.

As I opened the door, two towering bodyguards stepped directly in front of me, blocking my path.

"Can I help you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"You can't leave," one of them said flatly.

"What do you mean I can't leave?"

"Sir's orders."

I blinked at them, incredulous. "You're bullshitting me."

The unwavering looks on their faces told me they weren't.

Without thinking, I shoved past one of them, my boots hitting the gravel outside. I barely made it a step before the other grabbed me mid-air, lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing.

"Put me down!" I snapped, thrashing against his hold.

"Oh, Antonio wanted to fuck with me, didn't he?" I growled, my voice laced with venom. "Let's fuck things up."

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Celine crashing out is actually making me die and this isn't the beginning of her crashing out she a psychopath for reall 😭😭 lowkey wanted her like that cause she need to be keeping all these mf on there toes

imma try and expand on Celine and her moms relationship and like with the rest of her family as well and yes chat no one's parents are dead this time hope so no trauma from the undead chat hope y'all proud of me 🤭

anywho keep commenting and voting guys thank youu !! please remember to drink water

-zio 🍸