𝙀𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙃𝙞𝙢 |18+

Bruised

Merikh POV:

I fucking hate her.

It was clear she was Vincenzo that assholes favorite. I didn't expect it to be me, in fact I just thought I was gonna be the least favorite. I probably was but who gives a fuck.

Every night before I fall asleep I think of ways to murder Venus.

Drown her?

Shoot her?

Strangle her with my hands?

Even though we are in this fucking shit place called the "mafia" and is surrounded by weapons, they were all guarded.

I walk into the kitchen to see Jackson grabbing as much food he could with his mouth. "What?" His mouth full with a bag of chips as Silas rolls his eyes as he continued reading his novel.

"You dipshit, you said you were gonna help me?" I glare at Jackson who rolls his eyes.

"I have better things to do." He mumbles through the bag.

"Like what?" I heard Silas who scoff in the corner.

"Coming from a guy who still enjoys watching five year olds tv show! What could it be?" His eyes looks at Jackson from his novel through his reading glasses which he doesn't need but he wants to seem the smart ass he is.

"The girls and I are going to put on face masks, and do our nails." He dramatically walks away with his arms stuffed with food without our response.

"What are you reading?" I take out bottle of water from the fridge and look back at Silas.

"A romance novel, you should take some tips." He chuckles.

"For what? So a girl can get a restraining order against me?"

"At least we don't have to pay the bill to watch drama when we get a free performance." He laughs as I slap his arm.

"What do you need help with?" I takes off his glasses and shuts his book.

"How to shoot a gun." Seeing Venus master her gun skills everytime we go training made me pissed off. At a young age I loved guns and always wanted to learn how to use it, seeing her doing it so easily made me more pissed when I kept missing the target.

"Fine I'll help you. Also Venus birthday is coming up and we need to get her a present."

Ugh.

I scoff as he rolls his eyes. "It's in a week, buy her a gift because I know you haven't did that already."

" "Cause I know you haven't already" I mock him in a higher five year old girl voice as I wave my hands back n forth."

"Shut up" he snorts as he pokes my stomach.

"You know me so well." I slap his hand as he slaps mine, our handshake.

As I left leaving him to finish his boring novel, I decided to ruin their little party just like last time.

August 8th was Venus's birthday.

Ever since she or I made her kill her father, like anyone else I assume she would've hate me. I mean I hated her too in a way-

I was disrupted by Vincenzo calling me over into his office. I straightened my back and walked in to see him alone in his office on his desk waiting for me.

"Yes?" I shut the door behind as I walk up to him.

"Sit, this is important."

What isn't?

"Merikh," his Italian accent thick, "you are now in the mafia, when you hit a certain age, you have an arrange marriage."

I never really thought about having a relationship or marriage. Rushing into one was something I would've never agree to, no matter the situation.

I didn't care about being in this stupid "mafia" thing, it's fucking stupid being in a relationship so I'm not going to have an arrange marriage.

"No. I'm not-"

"Yes you are. You are of age. You will have a marriage, now you are dismissed." His voice was louder and stronger than he usually speaks.

"Then where is your wife." I gritted through my teeth while I looked him straight in the eye.

"I will be hosting a party for Venus's birthday. You will meet her and everyone."

Everyone?

"You will be attending the party within a two weeks to pick out your wife."

I couldn't even deal with any of this anymore. I walked out the office slamming the door behind me. I got into my car and speed through the streets to the mafia training arena.

I enter the boxing section, the cold air hitting my bare skin as I enter.

My glove crash against the boxing bag as I let out all my anger.

Sometimes when I'm angry I cry. But this time all I could feel was the anger I was building up as both of my fist beat the boxing bag.

"Fuck." I took off the boxing gloves and threw them across the room as my sweat dripped onto my shirt.

As I punch the boxing glove all I could here was me breathing and my fist with the bag.

Once I was done, my fist were red and bruised, my sweat ran along my skin as I try to catch my breath.

Fucking hell.