Binding Love

6 | Figure It Out

Anthony's POV:

As soon as she said those words, 'I have already had it rough at home.'

What the fuck did that mean?

I thought she was 18 and lived on her own? That's what her father told me.

That fucking prick. I hated him so much right now.

Because my mind immediately went to the worst thing possible.

Him hurting her.

And although, I absolutely despise this woman right now, that dosen't mean that I want to see her get hurt or be hurt by someone else.

The next time I see that bastard, his head will be in a grave.

I placed my elbows on the counter, as I leaned all my body weight on them.

My mind went back to the event that just occurred in this kitchen.

When my lips were this close to brushing against hers.

The scent of her strawberry and honey scented perfume, that automatically became one of my favorite smells ever.

The way her eyes danced all around mine, begging for an answer, when in reality I didn't even have one for myself.

Like I have said before, they're are no denying her looks. Her features are impeccable. And any man would fall over if they saw her.

But that wasn't going to happen.

We still haven't even discussed how we are going to be in public. Because I hope she knows, marrying a mafia man, causes a lot of parties and random events that get thrown at your face. And apparently it will ruin your reputation if you don't at least make some sort of attendance. 

This whole situation makes me want to throw something.

I hate that this is what it has come to. This just shows how determined I am to avenge my own father.

Some may call me a maniac, others, may identify me as a selfish person.

And to be honest. They would be right.

Guess that comes with being a brown. You get all your family's genes.

My sister, Ellie is exactly like my mother. She has a fiery spirit in her, with a big heart. And she will do anything for anyone. No matter the time of day.

While I apparently got what my father had.

Arrogance, anger, selfishness and determination.

I heard the doors to the kitchen open, before Madeline stepped in.

Her eyes glared at me before she went back to the spot she stood when Beverly was in here.

Her eyes continued to stare up at me, as I raised my elbows off the counter and straightened my shirt.

"What is it now Madeline?" I asked in annoyance.

She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't say anything."

I rolled my eyes, before growling. "I know that you want to say something, so go ahead and tell me."

A small smirk came upon her lips, before she laid her hands flat on the counter.

"I just really think you outta treat that poor girl with more respect." She said.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why? It's not like I care about her. I am only in this for the-"

"Yeah. Yeah the deal I get it. You want to be king of the Mafia. Yeah, I know." She said overexaggerating.

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes. I am. And you know that, so why should it matter what she thinks."

A hand went to her forehead before she shook her head once again.

"God Anthony. Just because you are being forced into thus marriage, doesn't mean you have to make it the worst one ever. I mean, have you ever thought maybe she DIDN'T want to do this either?"

I gulped and didn't say anything.

Her eyebrows went up before she responded. "See? You know absolutely nothing about this girl. Yet, you are already giving her orders and judging her."

I felt the anger and frustration began to rise in my chest. I knew that Madeline was right. But the thing is, I didn't WANT her to be right. I wanted her to be so off track.

"So. Go and at least TRY and be nice to her. For the love of God. I don't want to hear about another Rosaline and Enzo story."

"Rosaline and Enzo Story?" I asked. "How do you know about my mother and fathers relationship?" I said immediately stiffening up.

Her head titled to the side as she gave me a 'are you serious?' Look.

"Anthony. Me and your mother talk. Plus, she wrote a book about it remember?"

Fuck.

I completely forgot that she wrote a book about their love story.

I didn't even read it. And honestly, I probably never will.

I don't want to hear all the good things about my father when he was alive. Because the more I hear, the more I will pity my mother.

And she has already been through enough, she has TOLD me enough stories about him, that I am satisfied with what I know.

I sighed before rustling my fingers through my brown locks.

"Ok. Well, I will think about what you said. But I will not make any promises."

She rolled her eyes as I gave her one last smirk before making my way upstairs, as I shut the door separating me and my office.