Till Death Separate Us (18+)

2

I stepped into our house. This one is a regular expensive house. We don't live here, but we spend family time here. It's a chill place. No one knows about this house expect family members. I have no idea why he dropped me off here. I have no clothes herem. Maybe they left me some clothes upstairs in my room.
The doors were opened already. Well here we go again, who the fuck is in my room. Maybe one of my body guards ? With no fear I opened the door wider and as I was amusing it was Alex. He smiled at me. 'Hey, Layla. Your father told me to wait here for you, so I could take you to the mansion.' He said and stood up.
He stepped forward me. 'Well it's nice to see you after so long. Where you been ?' I also stepped forward until we were inches apart, until our arms could wrap each other. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, and he around my shoulders. 'I didn't notice your car.' I added. 'Well it's been a while, sweetheart. I was on a mission, your father said he will inform you, I guess he forgot. Or just didn't want to however, I'm here now. Alive and not harmed at all.' Alex took a few steps back. 'No more questions about the mission, now let's go into the car.' He ordered , pushing me to the door.
He opened the door for me and I sat down. He is always such a gentleman. He has his bad side, but didn't show it when he's around me. And I'm very happy that he is that way around me, I feel like he feels safe with me and comfortable. It feels like his little child inside of him feels safe with me. I hope no marriage will ever ruin our friendship. Because it's more than perfect right now.
As we started driving we put on music. That's our habit. We can't drive without singing. 10 minutes into the road, I asked him. 'Why can't I ask you about the mission ?' He sighed. 'Because it's way much more than complicated. The mafia meeting is soon and there are problems.' 'And why's that?' I asked again. ' We have to fix the problems before the meeting. We have to pay all debts, end all wars, there must be peace, this is our tradition. And if the guy who runs the whole mafia world, the mafia capo will find out that one of these things aren't done , he won't separate a life.' He said as he started speeding up the car, overtaking other cars that were going too slow and holding up traffic. I hate those people who holds up the traffic as much as he does.
I never knew that there was such a tradition. But I like this tradition. End all wars ? Pay all debts? And be in peace ? That's great. However, I doubt that everyone respects and appreciates this tradition, and most importantly adheres to it. Therefore, I fear that on that day many people lose their lives and go to the next world. Hell or heaven, if either exists.
'Do many people die there ?' I asked him trying to silence my curiosity. 'Well, sometimes. Some of people dies, because they think he won't kill them. They think that the tradition isn't real, just as the mafia capo, that all of that is just a mhyt. None of us ever died in there. You don't have to worry. There is just a few things left to do. I'll finish them by 00:00 a.m after dropping you off.' He answered my question as if it was  a common question.
'And there is no more tradition? Nothing else?' I asked. Is it actually that they all have to do ? 'Well, kinda. There is also a very old tradition. But people rarely does that now. If you bring your wife with you, you have to cut her twice. On her chest, because there is a heart that loves him, and on the hand he put the rings, because the ring symbolizes the vows they made to each other during their wedding day.'  He said.
What kind of tradition is that ? Hurting the woman you love? What ? That makes no sense. Luckily, I have no one to do that to me.
After 30 minutes of driving he parked his car in front our mansion. Ah, home. Love it. As we stepped inside the mansion we were greeted with my lovely mother.

This one is short sorry guys. However, I hope you enjoyed it. I'm trying to take it all slowly now. Don't wanna scare you all off like last time.

Love,

Author.

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