Don

2

Two months later...

"LET. IT. GO." Pietro's brother pleaded with him to no avail.

Pietro was big mad.

"I refuse. I will find her and-"

"And what?" His brother gasped out exasperated, "Kill her? Kiss her?"

Pietro thought about that. See, he hadn't actually planned that far.

"Both. Preferably in the reverse order, though. n*********a isn't my thing," he stressed, crinkling his nose in disgust.

DiAngelo Russo groaned as if in physical pain.

He wasn't in physical pain, but he was under serious mental duress. His brother had been trolling and pining after this chick since she quit him.

He spoke about her like she was some kinda holy hoe or something.

Now, to an extent, DiAngelo understood. He was hankering after a girl who practically killed his ego to soothe his now nearly fatally wounded pride.

And though she did demolish his pride; albeit it unequivocally embarrassing, he simply didn't see how it was worth it after the second week.

"I'll put it this way; if you do find her, and that's extra emphasis on the if, she'll be the female version of you."

"Meaning...?"

DiAngelo grinned at Pietro's karma induced predicament.

"She wouldn't give you the time of day. She's already smashed; you don't exist anymore."

At Pietro's expression, DiAngelo laughed merrily. Perhaps she was a holy hoe, whoever she was.

"Karma é una cagna, fratello," DiAngelo said smilingly, ignoring Pietro's resentful scowl.

(Karma's a b***h, bro)

"A very reliable bitch."