First roll call.

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This won't definitely be your normal kilig story from me. 

Black suits.

Red scarlet roses.

Ornamental decorations of gold and white that filled the sacred ground.

And a chary murmurs of what deemed even more acceptable than the occasion itself.

For many, it was a union.

But for some, it was a disgrace.

And the bride was the stigma.

“. You’re so good.” He hissed, still her sweaty neck as he let her ride him for a good half an hour. They came lots of times already and still, couldn’t get enough of that insatiable high. His sleek black tuxedo fell on the grass beneath the sweet sinful cradle they were on, an ancient marbled bench behind a moldering statue of some saint.

A loud moan escaped her lips, ignoring the fact that they were doing a detestable deed on a cathedral’s garden. To say that they were being discreet was an understatement. The humping creatures couldn’t even care if a nun or a kid would pass by as they let their lust baptized the slowly decaying life of autumn. “You too.” She managed to say as she rode him faster, letting their flesh slapped hungrily against each other.

She pulled him intensely by the collar of his equally black long-sleeves, three buttons popped out. Her teeth his right earlobe as she let him ravaged the skin of her neck. He was throbbing even more inside her, despite his pants was fully intact and her lacy black, tight knee-high dress also covered her body from this public rabbit-like mating.

“.” He cursed out loud, biting to her skin as his hands grasped for her and urged her to grind him faster. She didn’t complain so as he kept hitting her spot again and again and again . . .

“!” They both shouted on the , feeling their psyche glided up to the bright golden gates of heaven.

Only in reality, their souls were already burning in hell.

“He’s been asking for you two.” Kiko told them impassively as she stared at the two fully clothed on but tangled human beings. “The ceremony is about to start.”

Without even a hint of surprise or shame, the two pulled out from each other and stood, fixing themselves like nothing happened. Like no one saw what just happened. He took his tux and swung it over his shoulder. On the other hand, she had her 6-inch black killer pumps perfectly and just combed her sweaty hair to the side.

“Kiko.” She greeted without any sign of enthusiasm and passed her by.

Kiko glanced to her side, knowing she was gone out of her sight already. “Dara.”

“Baby.” He walked to Kiko with that unabashed poise that he always emits when on a good mood. He gave her lower lip a teasing tug. Kiko pushed him lightly but his hands s around her waist, pushing her to his proud manhood.

“How about we check out that little angel behind the thorny white roses?” He whispered to her ear. “It’s a better place here.”

Kiko somehow got out from his bait and looked at him sternly. “GD.” He loved it when she calls his name, trying to sound in despise when he knew too well Kiko wanted to him senselessly too. “He’s pissed already.”

He.

GD couldn’t help but shook his head and chuckled lowly. “Arasso. Arasso.” Another minute of making him wait would turn into bloodshed. He was that impatient. “Later then.” He winked at her seductively.

“Of course.” Kiko pulled him for a searing kiss, her tongue reaching every piece of his mouth, making sure any sign of the other girl on his lips a while ago was now completely erased.

She is the girlfriend after all.

“Right about time.” GD just appeared behind the groom. The violin of some romantic song was playing on the background as the bride from afar was slowly walking down this aisle. He bowed to him and flashed a wide smile.

The man in white tux turned to his supposed supportive bestman with a murderous glare. “I could kill you right now for being late, you know.” His voice was sure very low but not really threatening.

“No, you won’t.” GD combed with his fingers his tousled but definitely gorgeous red hair. “You can’t afford to lose your bestman today.”

“ you.” The groom somehow laughed.

GD glanced at his bestfriend for more than half of his life. Seeing his eyes darkened with obsession and lust towards his bride made him . . . He couldn’t even identify the word to use. “Minho.”

Lee Minho.

A successor. The heir. A scion. He has many names which people believe him to be. But there’s one that topped above them all.

He is the head honcho of Asia’s largest and strongest mafia group.

The Lost Anima.

It was in early 1920s when his great grandfather joined a barbaric group in Sicily, extorting rich families from one country to another and dealing with smuggled guns. After years of being the most wanted group in Italy and watching their members captured and died, they parted with each own lives and nightmares.

Haunted by the euphoria of someone’s blood and desire for money, his great grandfather built his own group starting with only the members of his family. They operated first on guns and other war weapons which became his grandfather’s obsession, transacting after the most war-freak countries during the time and up till now. When Minho’s grandfather took over the Asia’s own underworld, they began to show much fascination towards drugs. The one true love of the elites – .

Even the most admired and respectable personalities in politics and economy found themselves submissive to the power of the Lost Anima. Justice and guilt were words they’d hear from a TV reporter or some pastor of a congregation, and still they couldn’t care less. Other mafia groups started sprouting here and there, and they would always, as in always, see to it to befriend and serve Lost Anima. As they say, it is the smartest and most logical to be a part and be protected by someone whose head to toe undaunted and devoutly greedy for power and money.

Mafia. It was something that so-called millenials are so fond of gossiping about. It was the source of their lamest stories on the sidewalks and the inspiration to write in the most absurd stories and daydreaming. It looks cool, they say.

Cool?

Right.

The members of Lost Anima found it so cool too when blood flooded a floor and their foes begged for their insignificant lives. And they’d be there, hearing their pleas . . . but never really listening to them.  

“Don’t ruin this for me, GD.” Minho said without looking back at him. “I want her.”

GD remained quiet as he looked in deadpan at the bride, all smiles at the guests inside the church.  

It had been three years since Lee Minho handled the family in so much perfection. Raking money from all those and other illegalities. Making good business with many leaders around the world. Putting Lost Anima on top of Asia. Eradicating those who oppose and doubt. His years were and will be the golden era of their dark world.

“Where have you been?” Daesung asked her, giving her a scrutinizing look.

“ing.” Dara replied without a pause.

“Ssshhh.” Daesung quickly shushed her, clasping his hands in a short prayer. “Watch your words. We’re inside a church.”

Dara just looked at him coldly and to the altar.

“I don’t even know why we’re here.” Daesung couldn’t help but admit. They were seated on the middle part of the grand cathedral. “We kill people. Ruin their lives. Make this world a tier place than it already is.”