Carlotta Angela Vasiliev is a 17 year old girl living with her adoptive Russian mafia family of 4 brothers and father. Ever since she was a child, she's had no sense of belonging, abused by the Swedish mafia in her youth, her Russian saviours are th...
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When I was younger, I always saw my older brothers coming home late at night with cuts and bruises across their faces. Of course, newly adopted 10 year old me was unaware of my new adoptive family's relation to the Russian mafia but now I know firsthand that organised fights are a common stress reliever in the underground world.
I remember wanting to be just like them, I mean a split lip and a black eye are kinda badass, no?
I would beg them to teach me to fight, wanting to be tough like my older brothers, and they were more than willing. This resulted in long nights in our training rooms, learning to throw punches and kicks, which lets be real just ended up being them tackling and roughhousing me.
My brothers were very enthusiastic to teach me though, it's something we came to bond and connect over, as well as ultimately the correct way to be bringing me up properly in a mafia household.
Though they taught me to fight from an early age, they always reassured me no one would ever lay a hand on their младшая сестра whilst they were still alive.
(little sister)
Never would I have thought my first black eye would be by the hands of my boyfriend.
"You never fucking listen Carlotta!" Emiliano yelled, towering over my shaking form. The impact from his fist to the side of my head made his figure look slightly blurred, a slight ringing sound piercing through my ears.
This fucker did not just hit me.
Pushing myself back to my feet I did my best attempt to look down on him, despite our obvious height difference. "Did you seriously just backhand me?" I chuckled, wiping a thumb across my bloody lip.
"You need to learn your place, Carlotta. You belong with me, to me, I don't want you anywhere near him! You know how he feels about you!" Emiliano retorted, slowly backing me up towards the wall behind me.
"He's my lab partner, Emiliano! We were working on our project, do you seriously think I'm capable of cheating?" I asked, slightly hurt by his implication.
"You were at his house." He seethed leaning down to my face, effectively caging me into the wall with both his hands resting by my head.
"Do you not trust me? I'm your girlfriend, Emiliano. After all the fights I got into with my brothers about dating you, you now question my loyalty?" I respond incredulously, staring into his golden eyes that are swimming with rage.
Rage? Pfft, more like raging toxic masculinity.
He leaned impossibly closer, our noses barely touching, "How am I supposed to trust you when you're whoring around with other boys, hm?"
The shock must've been clear on my face as a glimmer of guilt washed over Emiliano's features, but was just as quickly replaced with his regular glare. Shaking my head slightly, I let out a humorous laugh. This was so unlike Emiliano, he's only ever been loving and caring towards me.
