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The gang leaders obsession

The virgin who stole the gang leaders heart. "You kill all the people that touch me for touching me only? Or is it just a habit of yours_ Killing people?" I dared to ask. I was shaking so bad and my hands were sweaty. I was visibly perspirating even though the Ac was on. Still, I just needed to get all these questions of my chest. He was acting so strange and mad. I knew that I would end up dead either ways. Whether I spoke up against him or not I was still going to end up dead. So why be silent? He started walking towards me, and with each step he took further I took one back in fear and desperation to create space between us, until I was backed up against the wall. He stood so close to me now I was practically breathing his air. "Like I told you in the very beginning when we first met, You're mine! And when something is mine no one touches it. So when another man wants to touch you beg him to stop not for your sake but for his. No matter how many they are or how minute the touch is they will end up below the ground the moment they do. You are mine." *** A terrible incident leaves Mira Scarred for life and she is forced to accept a life without love. But, fate has other things planned out for her. Mira's life changes when she is kidnapped along with other girls by White Lion's men. White Lion is immediately smitten by her. He falls deep in love with Mira and he will do anything to have her. Anything. Even if it means ruining all that he and his father before him had worked hard to achieve. Even if it means he would run far away from her. White Lion plays the game of love like war, everything is fair and no rules apply to him. Mira just happens to be the centre of his game. Mira who feels nothing. Impulsive, reckless Mira who hates men just like White Lion. His show of love is cruel, but his love for her is pure. Patron account: https://www.patreon.com/MiraHarlson Mature content: • Abuse. • Violence. • Sexual content.

WearsMira · Geral
Classificações insuficientes
107 Chs

CHAPTER 1

I WAS TWELVE WHEN I HAD MY FIRST BITTER TASTE OF LIFE.

I was from a middle class family. My mother struggled to make ends meet. While my father on the other hand struggled to make our life's more unbearable each day. If his family weren't the problem, his women were. He was my father but I hated him.

The situation at home made me grow up faster in mind, but it was not until the sixteenth of April that I knew what it meant to live in the world as a poor and struggling child_In a world were the poor had so little say and could only afford to have little dignity.

As a catholic I attended the stations of the cross all twelve years of my life and apart from the usual responses the crowd was meant to give, some other words stuck in my head.

The one I loved the most and could possibly never forget was that of Christ when the priest would in his bass voice say, 'your will is yours and no force on earth and none in hell can take away your will'.

I loved to hear that part a lot while I was younger but it soon got to a time where it hurt me to hear because I no longer wanted my will to be mine I wanted someone to take it from me. I wanted someone to lead me while I followed, because my thoughts seemed to be always wrong and my will though mine felt like it wasn't.

Maybe, I didn't grow up fast like I wanted to believe; I think what happened was that the situation at home broke me. It made me feel hollow, small, helpless_ feelings which were attributed more to grown ups.

I had to continue living. I lived by dreaming, and imagining fairy tales and beautiful princes who were selfless and handsome.

I watched my mom everyday while she left the house to do all kinds of business. She would leave before we went to school and by the time we were back, she would be there waiting for us. She worked really hard. Too hard. So I tried to do all that she asked of me even though they were not all pleasing to me.

I did them because I appreciated the effort she continued to make so that we could live a comfortable life even though my dad did little to nothing.

My mum soon became close friends with someone from the upper class, Lisa was her name. She was about 5'5 ft tall, plump and very fair, she was also pregnant for her second child when they met.

She soon became a friend that my mom trusted and wanted us to please, so that she would like my family and help us. 'We don't have money, we need all the help from people like her'. My mum would tell me. I didn't blame her, I never did. She was just a mother who wanted her children to live a good life.

If only she knew what the friendship was going to cost her in the nearest future maybe she would never have been friends with Lisa in the first place.

But none of us have the ability to see the future and that remains one of mans various inadequacies.