Bishop |18+|

Ch.36

Antonio

God this woman could ruin my life in a heartbeat.

I glanced down, watching Alia sleep peacefully next to me, her lips lightly parted as she snoozed in my arms. I watched her eye lids twitch a few times, hearing her squirm around a bit before she'd let out a mumble. It was cute—how fucking dare she look this gorgeous sleeping.

Letting out a groan, I rubbed my face and looked back down at her before gently laying her head back onto her pillow. It was late, very fucking late and my eyes adjusted enough to look around her apartment. Everything was a dark shade of blue, the hue getting lighter once I saw the linen curtains—illuminated by the moonlight. God I needed a fucking smoke.

Quietly, I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, hearing her let out a sweet groan before I slowly got up from the sofa bed. Grabbing a cigarette packet from the shelf in the lounge, I made my way towards the curtains, pulling it to the side before walking out onto the balcony. With a cig in my mouth, I glanced down at the quiet roads before flicking my lighter at the tip of the cigarette.

Something kept bothering me. And no, it wasn't just Padre. I know he's still somewhere and it sickens me that I can't somehow get in fucking touch with him. He could be doing fuck all—all for what? Only because I refused to kill off a few journalists.

There's something about power that just allows it to spread quicker than a disease. A small taste of it can get a person on their knees begging for more—the greedy cunts.

Taking a drag out of my cigarette, I looked down to feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Reaching down, I pulled it out and read the first message that flashed across the screen.

Ray: 'Dario, Ciro, Andrea, and Giuseppe are dead. The boys gunned them down after finding the fuckers trying to cross the state border. They must've gotten a tip and went on the run.'

Finally, some good fucking news. I breathed out and looked down at my phone with a frown, my jaw clenched as the white plume of smoke drifted around in the air.

Antonio: 'What about Bruno?'
Ray: 'Just got confirmation that Bruno got shot dead behind a back alley.'

My eye twitched.

Antonio: 'Is Luca alright?'

The message was read and I watched as Ray took a few seconds typing one out, my eyes on the screen.

Ray: 'Missing.'

"Fuck." I scowled before taking in another drag. Though it wasn't surprising, I honestly thought he'd live on without being caught, especially after making it as far as two months. 'Missing' meant he's either dead, burnt to ashes or border hopping, though I doubt he'd do that considering he lost all protection anyways.

I let out a sigh.

Antonio: 'Send the full amount of his predicted salary to his family. Shut em up.'
Ray: 'Got it.'

I turned off my phone and blew out a plume of smoke. Pawns. That's all he saw them as. Not lives—no. Not husbands nor fathers who were desperate enough to make a fucking living doing crime to feed their families. Giovanni never played the husband—never played the father figure.