The Babysitter

11

𝗥𝗢𝗬𝗖𝗘

She was here. But she didn't look like she was fine. Why did I care, though? Yesterday, she left by herself all alone in the dark but fuck I didn't want that. But Melissa kept saying I did the right thing. She's right. I did the right thing. Tate is staying here with Angela, but not for the night. I don't trust her to be around Angela or in this house all alone anymore. Luckily, Valerie was here with them for the night because tomorrow Mama and Dad are coming home again.

"What this puta doing here?" I take a deep breath and try to ignore the fact that Melissa called Tate a bitch. That was off-limits.

"I guess she's a babysitter for a reason, Melissa?" I said, and it came out as a question.

I've always had this deep dislike for Melissa, but I found myself in a situation where I had to be with her. There were two reasons for it, one that she didn't know about, which only my family and Valerie were aware of. Another reason that she knew about it was because she came from a powerful mafia family, and my dad insisted that I marry her to strengthen our mafia's influence.

I was aware that this would happen one day in my life. And that I'll be forced to marry a mafia woman. This is the mafia world I was dragged into since I was ten years old exactly.

Marrying within the family helps to build stronger connections between our families. It creates a sense of loyalty and unity, ensuring that we can rely on each other for support and protection. It also allows us to maintain control over valuable resources and territories and maintain our influence within the mafia world. Plus, it ensures that our bloodline wealth and power stay within our family, which is crucial for consolidating our power and maintaining a strong position in the mafia hierarchy.

But I was stuck between choosing my life or choosing the life my dad wanted. The question is, should I do that? Those thoughts vanished the moment I saw Tate in the kitchen. She held a cup of water and when she turned her face looked pale. Bags under her eyes, red eyes, like a blazing fire in them, cherry cheeks. And swollen lips.

𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔. A voice in my mind told me that. Why do I care? She can cry, and she can play the victim. She's good at acting, though. I know these types of girls. They act all innocent and lovely, and they turn out to be the most pathetic ones.

"Get out from here, you little shit. And even a liar." Melissa spits with venom, her voice echoed in the room, and Tate stopped in her tracks.

"Melissa." I warn, my voice thick.

No one disrespects no one in my house. As long as I'm in the picture, all should fucking respect me and respect the others that are in the room. Except for me, I can say whatever I want.

"What? Isn't that right?" She taunts, looking at Tate with dreadful eyes. If Melissa's eyes had lazer, Tate would be dead by now.

"Melissa I said fucking stop!" I yell with a tough tone.

I look around, and thankfully, Angela wasn't here to hear me yell. Angela is my everything. She's the most important person after my grandmother.

Melissa utters a curse word in spanish under her breath, rolling her eyes she storms out of the room. Tate turns to leave, but she stops when I call her name. "Tate."

She freezes, her legs stopped and her whole body froze. She turns around, and something in me waved like a god damn cold freezing air. It stings like a bitch. Seeing her in this situation, it broke me, and at the same time, I feel like she deserves it. She deserves what's happening with her because of what she did to me.

"I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything tonight. If you want to hear it come to this small café at eight. I'll send you the location." She simply said and walked out, taking with her my breath.