RESIST: A FORBIDDEN MAFIA ROMANCE [18+]

6. Whatever helps you sleep

Deimos

Deimos leans against the rails of the ship looking over the oceans, a cigar dangling from his mouth, a glass of Diva Vodka in hand.

It's a bleak evening. To some, it might be a really cool night for a good swim, dinner at the deck of the ship with loved ones...but it's been fucking long since Deimos stopped seeing the beauty in things. Everything is just...bleak to him.

His mind is occupied with his recent dealings.

It's been oddly unsatisfying, hunting down and destroying his family's long sorted enemy, Marcello. Which bothers him because Marcello shamed the family. Marcello has deeply wounded the pride of the Cirillo's. Marcello has ridiculed the formidable empire his family has fought so fucking hard to build over the years.

To add salt to the injury, Marcello was his grandfather's most trusted consigliere.

The traitor is also the reason his beloved grandfather, Salvatore – the former capo – is dead. How could it be said that the greatest 'Lion' Salvatore spent his last days sitting on his ass in a cell while staring at the ceiling, constrained by fucking dogs. That disgraceful thought alone has Deimos tightening his jaw.

All Marcello had to do was open his fucking mouth to the dogs and the dominoes started to fall.

Now, Deimos has inherited a wrecking ship.

There's a lot to do to build back this sinking reputation, his grandsire, Salvatore, has spent his lifetime building.

This is also an opportunity for Deimos to acquire the two things he craved above all. Power and Respect.
With thousands of men ready at his disposal, the whole family united under him, and with the ambitions that wrestling in his insides – the world is not ready for him.

He takes a sip of his Vodka when a movement at his back catches his attention. From the corner of his eyes, he sees the shileoiheoit of the intruder. His gun is always at hand's reach.

His lips curl downwards. "Show yourself or risk catching a bullet in your balls." He calls out in his bored tone.

He's alert, even though he's eyes are casually fixed on the ocean. The tension that never seems to leave him, tightening at his shoulders.

"I thought I might find you here, boss." His right hand man, Lanstov – the only fool wise enough to stalk Deimos – is suddenly standing beside him. He's half Italian, half Russian. His mother is from Russia though. While his father roots from Italy. Maybe that's why he was inducted into the  bravta. "The Russians burned two of our labs to the ground, killed all the workers. Kidnapped our chief chemists. And left you a message."

Deimos hands tightened against the tumbler in his hands. He nods. Reaching out to light his cigar. Inhaling deeply. "Hmmm. What does the message say?"