Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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Trigger warning: Grief and Domestic violence
POV: Valentino "It hurts every day, the absence of someone who was once there." - Marie Lu Summer #3
318 days and 10 months
It's been 318 days and 10 months since I last saw Brooklyn.
Her absence brought back feelings and bad habits that I'd avoided for years. When the task of that day is finished, I'm left alone in my office with my thoughts. I swore I would never drink due to the effects I saw it have on my family, but the burning comfort alcohol offers somehow found its way to me.
I'm not proud of it.
That night has not left me since the day it happened, and I find myself replaying it in my head, but there is no going back. I wouldn't forgive me if I were in Brooklyn, and that's what makes it worst. Her return to Italy was something that caught me off guard; I thought it would take years before she came back. Even then, I would wait a million years.
If it were up to me, I would've hopped on the next plane to Manhattan, New York, as soon as I found out about her departure, but I had things to take care of first. The time between was good anyway; she needed time to come to terms with the truth. Scars took time to heal. In the meantime, I had to ensure nobody, not even my deadbeat father, would be able to stop me, and now he can't.
because he's dead.
It's only been a week since his departure, but the Underworld continues, crowning me as the new don of my family. I know my dad must be laughing in his grave at the ending I've been trying to escape since I was eight, but he doesn't know what I have planned.
No one does.
"Boss," Nick, my right-hand man and the closest thing I had as a friend, called for me, pulling the cloud that was floating up my ass.
"What?" I called back. It took only three long strides for me to reach the door, which Nick was currently knocking on. When I finally opened the door, he stood proud at 6'3 in an all-black suit and black shades.
Copycat.
I swear I could say I like lollipops up my ass, and some of my men would say they liked it too. The way my father ruled was strict and unforgiving, and they expected the same for his son too. I mean, I didn't get the nickname Anilius for nothing. Every man in the underworld knows the story of the snake I used to kill the man who dared to cross me; some even swear they can still hear his screams as the snake wrapped itself around his body.
I say too bad.
His wife directly contacted me after surviving years of his abuse. I normally don't intervene in personal situations, like family and relationships—it always bites you in the ass later—but this one was different. In the reflection of the woman's eyes was hopelessness; it was the same look that my mother had in her eyes too. It made me wonder if someone came a long time sooner, would the brightness in them remain?
I took the job for free.
"Your mom wants to know if you're ready for the funeral." Nick walked into my room despite the scowl I threw his way, messing with random objects on my dresser.
Even though I couldn't care less about my papa's death, I know this must be horrible for my mom. Despite all the love my mama gave him, my father still cheated, got drunk, and treated her like shit. They were high school sweethearts, madly in love before he drowned in the ways of the underworld. My papa put her in a position where she couldn't leave since she was financially dependent on him and only had a high school degree, so she just prayed.
prayed for the man she once loved.
It made me wonder where the man with the dazzling smile my mom always talked about was. My papa's smile reminded me of the wolves' before they feasted on their prey.
I shook the thoughts from my head.
"Yeah, I'm ready," I said as I walked out of my bedroom and towards the grand kitchen, where my cook, Leah, cooked a grand breakfast like she did every morning. Like I expected, my mom was nowhere in sight, but that didn't stop me from eating and leaving as soon as possible. I walked out of the black SUV, where my mom sat in the front seat wearing an all-black dress with a black veil.
The car ride to the church was silent, and so was I during the ceremony. My father's closest business partners were there, along with family members who should be emitted to the mental hospital immediately for being delusional. The tears had to be fake; if not, I wonder if my father saved his worst demons for my mother and me while he displayed his best to others.
Most likely.
"It's all about appearance and reputation, son."
I am not his son.
It was not until the funeral was over that I stood alone, staring down at the casket that had bullets scattered around it. The tradition of dumping the rest of the bullets in your gun on your loved one's casket carried on. I'm the only one who stood back; I had something else I would like to give.
I threw a gold lighter with snakes beautifully engraved on it.
Although many men patted my back after the funeral to show their "sympathy", I suspect they will be the very men who will stab me in the back. Every time a new Don took over, there was unbalance, hence an opportunity for little bloodthirsty fuckers to dethrone me. I already heard whispers of people questioning my ability to rule and live up to my father's legacy.
My papa didn't care if they stood in his way. The same legacy that destroyed the family I wished I had growing up
If anyone thinks they can do the same, I will happily give away my birthright as the firstborn child, but not before I have a little fun first. ____________________________________ Devilishly smirk 😏
