𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

28 || Tunnel Vision

Song: ZAYN - You wish you knew( slowed + reverb)

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Nico

"You can't fuck her."

I swipe my tounge across my front teeth in an attempt to stop the sour look that's threatening to cross my face, but it doesn't work.

I was a man, and that fragile little ego of mine didn't like it when someone told me what to do. Not even him. "How about you take a fucking second to yourself and then try that again."

The man on the other end of the phone sighs. "Cazzo, you're a fucking headcase, you know that?" (Italian| fuck)

My eyes zero in on the heaps of people filing out of my building. "And you live with a fucking headcase, what's new." I say as I unlock my car door and slide into the drivers seat.

Not only was I still in my sleepwear, but I had to wait until the firefighters swept the entire sixth floor of the building before I could get back in.

I glance down at the time on the dashboard. A fire at nine in the fucking morning. Now, I'm not superstitious, but that's gotta mean something.

"Watch it, Rosso." He growls, his voice hardening and I set the phone on speaker, tossing it in my cup holder before starting the engine of the 79' Mustang that protests under mg weight.

A sound of amusement escapes my lips and I shake my head at the man on the other end.

Alessio Galanti - The Don of the Italian mafia and the only man I deemed somewhat respectable was pussy whipped by a spoiled little bitch and it was making my life hell.

The man lived across the street from me, for fucks sake, but I hadn't been able to catch him.

We had business to conduct, but the asshole wouldn't give me the time of day because when he was in town, he was balls deep in his little princess.

Giana Moretto.

Sometimes, I still fantasized about her. About how it'd feel to watch the life drain from her eyes. The happiness it'd bring me to see the last trace of Arturo Moretto wiped clean from this earth.

Because he deserved it.

No, he deserved much worse.

"Why is that you're keeping her around, again?" Alessio asks.

I remain silent as I pull away from the curb and head towards the loft in Brooklyn. I didn't make it a habit to tell people shit, but I was going into business with Alessio.

"A gut feeling." Is all I offer.

"A gut feeling?" He finally repeats a moment later, his tone dry.

I don't respond and he lets out a heavy breath of frustration, no doubtedly rubbing at his temples.

"So let me guess. Your gut is now telling you that you need to fuck her?" He deadpans.

"No, that's ridiculous." I wave off, as I come to a stand still in Manhattan traffic, thank fuck Bambi left before the fire alarm went off. I didn't have the patience for her, right now. "That would be my dick talking." I offer blandly, reaching for a cigarette.