𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟎𝟗 | 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐙

There's one thing that's absolutely vital having in this life. One word - acceptance. Whatever bullshit is throw at you, you have to accept it. Yet, my father is adamant on not carrying that personality trait in his genes.

Everyone knows he's one son of a bitch, however they're still afraid. I can argue it's common sense to not trust whatever comes out of his mouth because there's been countless occasions where he fucked me over, big time.

1. He killed my dog when I was 10 because I was ignoring him at the dinner table. He argued it was because it made him look like a fool, and he wasn't a god damn fool. So, as a consequence, I caught a short term illness that made me cry for every flying seconds on that singular day. Sadness is a bitch.

2. After he killed my dog, he began projecting his anger in violating bigger, more humane things. Making it known that he wasn't going to be taken as a god damn fool by anyone.

To put it frank, he felt threatened when he started to understand his own daughter was, and still is, no match for his cruelty. Where he draws the line of killing the men who work for him, I certainly do not. You cross me? You're going to be dead, and different parts of your body will be floating in the fucking bluest of blue oceans.

Jealousy is lethal.

And god, when I found out that I was going to become the leader of this shit, confusion rattled the hell out of me. But, turns out my brother didn't show enough qualities and my mamá forced him to choose me.

Turns out, he was prepared to make my primo the leader. (translation- Spanish. Cousin.)

Son of a bitch, I tell you. The fucker didn't even want his own blood taking over his shit. Proves his respect for me in many ways other than just the one.

I gesture my older brother to speak, and he sighs, hesitating for a moment. I can sense his anxiety radiating off of him, almost like he's dripping with it.

"We should get our parents to host a ball." I'm taken back by his suggestion and I open my mouth, yet no words form and he realises, so he takes the lead of the conversation. "To get the heat off our backs, you know? Considering everyone believes you killed another Italian, we need to make it known you don't want war with them." He rambles all of this so quickly as well as wavering his hands all over the place. I'f I wasn't paying attention, I'd think he was talking gibberish.

"Considering the fact that I'm being forced to marry an Italian, I don't think that's necessary." I slump back into my chair, showing no interest in this conversation anymore. The last thing I want right now is unnecessary conversation for hours on end talking about things that I already have my own relatives shouting down my ears twenty-four fucking seven.

"Papá pissed off a lot of people, Anna. You're starting to go down the same route, intentional or not. We don't want another war again. Just, please." He begins to plead with me, and I lock my gaze with his. And only when I see the stern expression on his face, I realise he's genuinely being serious.

"Fine. But if I have to fucking entertain anyone, I will not be happy." I mumble, and instantly his demeanour changes. Andrés relaxes and his lips tug into a big smile. He's always been so happy, and that's what makes me feel bad for him. Truthfully, there's nothing to be happy about in this family.