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Colin. Just the name made Alessandro__ gut burn. He knew the man wanted his wife, even if Brianna was too blind to see it. The moron had been cuckolded by the paragon of supposed virtue, his wife Carrie and now he had finally opened his eyes and seen what Alessandro had known all along. Brianna put every other woman in New York to shame. No woman could come near her beauty, her passion, her fire. Colin had tossed her aside for the angelic Carrie and now he was changing his mind. Oh no you don__, you miserable fucker. __er friend indeed,_ Bernardo drawled, his Italian accent thick with unmistakable implication. __at__ da truth. He no make her cry all da time._ That was directed at Alessandro, with small dark accusatory eyes. __e nice._ Alessandro couldn__ look at those eyes without feeling a sickening pang of guilt. She__ mine! He wanted to scream. Mine! Mine! Mine! __h yes. Very nice. He was very nice when he held her at the cemetery and very nice when he was dancing with her at Adresca._ That made Alessandro__ head lift in surprise. __h yes, my boy. She__ been there, cleaning up the rubble and word is that she__ working on re-opening it. Her friend Colin has been quite helpful in that endeavour._ __ don_ like how you say dat,_ Will said scowling. __eally young William, I only speak the truth,_ Bernardo taunted. Alessandro__ mind was racing. NO! Not Colin. He could not let that imbecile take Brianna away from him. He__ have to be eliminated somehow. Alessandro began to plot all the different ways he could ensure that Colin Neally stayed away from his wife, permanently. They all involved grisly, violent methods. He could not be allowed to win Brianna.
E. Jamie The Betrayal
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Colin. Just the name made Alessandro__ gut burn. He knew the man wanted his wife, even if Brianna was too blind to see it. The moron had been cuckolded by the paragon of supposed virtue, his wife Carrie and now he had finally opened his eyes and seen what Alessandro had known all along. Brianna put every other woman in New York to shame. No woman could come near her beauty, her passion, her fire. Colin had tossed her aside for the angelic Carrie and now he was changing his mind. Oh no you don__, you miserable fucker. __er friend indeed,_ Bernardo drawled, his Italian accent thick with unmistakable implication. __at__ da truth. He no make her cry all da time._ That was directed at Alessandro, with small dark accusatory eyes. __e nice._ Alessandro couldn__ look at those eyes without feeling a sickening pang of guilt. She__ mine! He wanted to scream. Mine! Mine! Mine! __h yes. Very nice. He was very nice when he held her at the cemetery and very nice when he was dancing with her at Adresca._ That made Alessandro__ head lift in surprise. __h yes, my boy. She__ been there, cleaning up the rubble and word is that she__ working on re-opening it. Her friend Colin has been quite helpful in that endeavour._ __ don_ like how you say dat,_ Will said scowling. __eally young William, I only speak the truth,_ Bernardo taunted. Alessandro__ mind was racing. NO! Not Colin. He could not let that imbecile take Brianna away from him. He__ have to be eliminated somehow. Alessandro began to plot all the different ways he could ensure that Colin Neally stayed away from his wife, permanently. They all involved grisly, violent methods. He could not be allowed to win Brianna.

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A group experience takes place on a lower level of consciousness than the experience of an individual. This is due to the fact that, when many people gather together to share one common emotion, the total psyche emerging from the group is below the level of the individual psyche. If it is a very large group, the collective psyche will be more like the psyche of an animal, which is the reason why the ethical attitude of large organizations is always doubtful. The psychology of a large crowd inevitably sinks to the level of mob psychology. If, therefore, I have a so-called collective experience as a member of a group, it takes place on a lower level of consciousness than if I had the experience by myself alone.

CJ
C.G. Jung

The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious