Only you

Chapter 7 | Addictive

Sure, my father was never a good man, but he was a better father than most and I sure as hell was grateful for that. He only wanted the best for me and Sergio. He was building us into men; men made for the mafia.

And no one was really a good guy in the mafia. You really couldn't afford to be or else it would land you six feet under. That's what my father always tried to teach us, that being good would get us killed. That's what I learned to live by, but my mother always encouraged otherwise.

She was the total opposite of my father. She donated to charity and helped homeless people multiple times despite how mad my father would get. She didn't care about how much he frowned upon it because she knew that he loved her and would let her get away with anything. My mother wasn't born into the mafia which meant that she wasn't forced to marry unlike other women.

My father somehow bumped into her at the store, and it all went down from there. She still stayed with him even though she knew what he was involved in. Of course, my father's family had shit to say about them marrying because my mother wasn't born to marry him, but he always chose her and I guess they quickly realized that he wasn't going to listen to them.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to marry- well, at least not right now. I knew that sooner or later some other mafia was going to beg me to marry their daughter, but it all depended on how much money I would get out of it because I sure as hell wasn't going to put up with their daughter's shit and not get what I wanted or needed.

I had never really cared to find someone I actually loved like my father had and I was okay with my quick fucks here and there. I had never needed a woman and I probably never would.

I stood on my bedroom patio, leaning against the railing. I pulled out a lighter and my joint from my pocket, lighting it and inhaling, letting the smoke expand to my lungs, making me relax after last night.

It wasn't too much of a rough night for me as it probably was for Elisia, but it was fucking stressful trying to make sure she was still breathing. When we were in the car on the way over here, her breathing would get shallower about every ten minutes which led to me getting pissed off at Adrian for driving so goddamn slow.

I shouldn't have cared as much as I did, but the idea of her dying right then and there caused an uneasy feeling in my chest.

After we got to the house, one of our doctors examined her and said that she would be fine. Whoever had drugged her gave her enough to make her pass out for at least a day, but they weren't trying to kill her either. He hooked an IV to her to make sure that she didn't actually die but he knew that she would be fine. It was, more than anything, to help the drug leave her body faster.

Elisia was probably going to try to kill me, my men, or both when she wakes up because she was going to think that I drugged her. I honestly wouldn't blame her, though. I did tell her I wasn't done with her and what a fucking coincidence that she fell into my arms and not in the arms of the person who drugged her.