The mafia's fiancee

Chapter 1

POV: Chad

One would think that growing up in the family that I was born in that I was happy and loved. I wish, being born in the mafia did guarantee me money and fame, a lot of if but love and care not so much. My father owns the most feared and respected mafia in South Carolina.

I don't remember the first time I killed someone. Was I seven or eight? Whelp! Probably even younger. That's how fucked up my family is and FYI that first kill was not willingly. That day I had just lost my mother and a strange man came and rudely interrupted the funeral by dragging me to a car. This incident still haunts me to this day. Being dragged to the worst nightmare of my life called my father and his family.

" Take the gun the man" said the man who claimed to be my father. "Wh-at?" Naive me asked only to be smacked on the face. "When I say take the gun you take the gun. You dare make repeat myself?" He said. I grabbed the weapon with trembling hands, fear crippling me so much so I couldn't control my fingers. Though I didn't understand how dangerous the gun was, I knew one thing the man claiming to be my father was not human and most of all was dangerous. My kick for survival surged and when ordered " Turn right and press..." Before he could finish the order I turned right and pulled the trigger. Thudd!!! Fell a man holding his stomach and blood oozed out through his fingers. And there without even knowing it I had killed a man and saved my own. I later learnt that had I failed I would have been killed. So I had earned the right to being a don's son though illegitimate.

Since then my sanity had been tested. Hand combat, knives, guns, darts etc. I was trained day in day out. Every failure and weakness I was punished for, so I learnt to be perfect. Never shed a year and never complained. Hopefully then my father will at least talk to me once.

By the time I was fifteen I could kill without blinking or even remorse. I was angry at my mother for dying and at my father for taking me when he didn't care about me and for allowing his wife to bully me. This did not go unnoticed by my father, I was becoming more ruthless and feared even within the mafia family. Their whispers and mockery had stopped with fear of being my next target practice.

Everyone knew that my father always sent me on the most difficult and impossible missions. Almost as if he hoped I would fail and die but I didn't. God forbid I die in such a pathetic manner, sent to my death by my own father. So I crawled out of every situation just so I could stand tall infront of him. That bastard of a man who never considered me his own and took me in out of pity only to abuse me. The abuse had been bearable at first and then his wife got pregnant and gave birth to a set of boy twins. It became clear why he had even tolerated my presence at first. Now I wasn't need yet wasn't easy to dispose of. The fear that the world directed to him he knew who it truly belonds to.