Escaping The Mafia King

"I did not have any fucking clue!" Varys slammed his palm down on the hard surface of kitchen, right beside where her hand was resting, immediately making her jump in fright. But then almost instantly stepping back he put his hands on his waist, flipping away to face away from her, while taking deep breaths.

He turned back around and said in a gruff voice, "I only got to know after that day. I was not aware what kind of business my parents were in. By the time I entered the house, no one was left alive, my mom, dad, and brother's body was lying in front of my face while ten men surrounded them with guns in their fucking hands."

Hope straightened, her heart racing a thousand miles a minute. She had not expected him to lash out like this. And hearing him say this, confess to what happened the night she last saw him was nothing less than a gut wrenching punch. The memory was not any less than agony for both of them.

"Hope, do you really think I would have been able to flee from a scene where my family laid dead in front of my eyes?" his voice dropped low, his piercing gaze staring at her, "Those guys tortured me for hours before the police came in. They ran away, leaving me half dead on the floor. Thankfully my uncle, who worked as my dad's right hand man in gang found me, saw me alive, and took me away with him."

"Why didn't he let you be found by the police?" Hope asked desperately, "do you know what I went through when they said they did not even find your body? I am sure police would have protected you!"

Varys let out a rough, mocking laugh before stepping in, his hand sliding in her waist, "honey, do you honestly think there are no corrupt people in this world? Antyhing can be brought with money. ANYTHING. Police is no different and my uncle knew that."

His face descended down, his eyes were clenched shut as he tried hard to block out the memory from that day. Being close to Hope gave him peace, strength to fight back all the bad things that happened to him, her scent, filled him, pulling him out of the dark place that he had gotten lost into.

"Hope," he whispered, his lips almost touching hers, "In that moment, when they were kicking me, hitting me, doing the worst thing possible to my body, the only thing that was on my mind was keeping you safe. I could not feel the pain. Maybe it was because I had seen my family dead in front of me, and it was also because I was worried they were going to find you. I could not let anything to happen to you, Hope."

Hope was silent in his arms, not pushing him away, but not saying anything either. When the moment passed, and Hope was capable enough to utter the words, she asked,

"Why didn't you contact me all these years, Varys?" her head lifted up to meet his eyes as she murmured, her hands shivered as she lifted them up and put them on his chest for to feel his warmth and closeness, more than to steady herself, "Ten years. A fucking decade, Varys. Didn't I even pass by in your mind if you were so worried about me?"

Hope wanted to believe him, but the truth was there, and then not there. There were so many unanswered questions that had haunted her for years.

Varys sighed heavily and pulled himself back. He took a step back, his gaze unwavering from her face.

he lifted his hand and started to unbutton his

gaze turning from confused to horrified

hands on her eyes and

their first meeting when she had put her

the buttons of his shirt.

hear the rustling of the

words containing the laughter he

are taking your clothes off! That is

"Turn around." he ordered.

not even lower

and looked at the ceiling and then turned around and

turned her around, making her face him. Her eyes were clenched

said,

then before she

the nasty, jagged wound, showing the brutality of the scar and pain

my God." she whispered, her voice

that day, I nearly had. But the knife did

Hope's words were

they would not have stopped until they

could not even imagine the pain he would have gone through

a step forward to close the distance between them, drawing closer to him. Her trembling fingers touched the scar, tracing