Bellissimo

CHAPTER 16

ADRIEN SANTINO'S POV :

"You sure you can take in another one, kid?" The stupid bartender asks me for the hundredth time, and I'm literally so close to pull my gun out and put a bullet in his head.

"Do I look like I'm fuckin' kiddin'?" I snap, and the bartender quickly scurries away bringing me my 17th shot.

Alessio Santino is a fucking dick. He may look and act like a literal angel infront of everyone, even the Celestè's, but he is a fucking piece of shit under his stupid mask.

Being the middle child has it's perks, they are always supposed to be the ignored one naturally. But it is totally opposite in my case.

My older brother, Vincenzo, has told my father fuck you and left to live his life, leaving us two brothers alone with a fuckwad.

My grandfather, Giovanni Santino was the actual founder of the Greek Mafia, he made it powerful, more efficient, and most importantly, he made an alliance with the Italian Mafia making us more powerful than ever.

Vincenzo is his favorite grandchild, ever since he was the size of a pea. So he can easily take on father just by telling grandpa about him, which my father would not risk.

So he let Vince go, letting him live his life. But I eventually became the guinea pig.

As Vince was no longer the heir, I became the heir to the Mafia throne.

Andre, being the youngest child, was saved.

He made me kill the children in the orphanage last night, he made me look into their eyes and put a bullet through their heart.

I've done worse things though.

He says he wants me to become merciless, powerful. He wants me to be like him.

"Another one." I slam the shot glass down and give a deathly glare to the bartender. The bartender looks like he is going to piss his pants and scurries away yet again, bringing me two shots at once this time.

The Celestè brothers have been acting like sneaky shits nowadays. They skipped school for like a week, and they avoided talking to me when I mentioned about coming over.

Even Art is being a slacky shit.

Goddamnit!

I finish my shots and slam a thousand dollar bill on the counter, making my way out of my father's bar.

Where am I heading at?

I somehow get my phone out of my pocket even though I'm seeing everything blurry.

Am I fucking tipsy?

No Adrien Santino does not get tipsy, Goddamnit!

I scrunch up my eyebrows and call whoever is on the speed dial, I'd have driven my car, my baby, but I'm too fucking wasted to do so and I do not want to risk hurting my baby either.

I swear these are the drunk hormones talking.

The phone rings for a few times and it makes a beep sound, and a few seconds later I hear a grumpy voice from the other side.

"Adrien?" The grumpy voice asks.

"Who the fuck is this?" I almost scream and I want to pull all my hair out in frustration.

"Read the caller ID damnit!" The grumpy voice exclaims, and I hear a bit of emotion in it.

"The...what? Who the fuck is Fartepiss?"