Empress Of Wrath, Blood And Desire

Chapter 5: Finding her

Marcellous (Marcello) Di Capo POV

While growing up, I couldn't help but feel envious of my younger brother, particularly the affection he received from the world, especially in romance.

My brother, Malachi, met his future wife, Ruth, a decade ago when he was merely seventeen and she was sixteen. Their connection was immediate, and as time passed, they found themselves deeply and passionately in love.

During their times of bonding and romanticism, I happened to watch their tenderness of affection exchanges from afar. Still, I never had the chance to experience what they had, even though I desired it to the point of jealousy.

I was perpetually busy preparing to take on the role of the Italian mafia that was bestowed on me as the first-born son of the Italian ruler, and an ounce of emotion from me could cost me my life or disownment.

I was forbidden from dating, falling in love, showing emotion, or extending kindness to anyone, as these were strict rules enforced by the mafia and my vicious father.

My father was vile and ruthless, committing atrocities against anyone regardless of gender or age.

These qualities kept him in power for many years, until I became who I am today. I followed in his footsteps, as it was all I had ever known and tirelessly taught to do, suppress emotions, shun love, forsake humanity, and show no mercy.

Those privileges were reserved solely for my brother, as he was not the firstborn son. Unlike me, he was not raised by our father and was subjected to becoming a heartless, cold-blooded killer.

He was grown in a separate part of my father's home with love and I wasn't.

I had been beaten, tortured, cursed, compelled, and brainwashed, but I did have a sort of emotion and that was sheer envy.

I grew up with cold, bitter eyes, observing Malachi being treated with care and tenderness until he reached an age where he was granted freedoms I was denied. He began dating, going out, making friends, having access to electronics, and experiencing love, emotions, and people who cared for him, while I could only envy it all from afar.

For years, I observed my brother and his partner with envy, a feeling that only intensified during my two-year stint in the army, a path my father forced me to take.

Upon my return home, I found myself colder and more distant than before. It was then that I learned of my brother's engagement and subsequent marriage to the very woman I had left him with. It fueled my envy to a level of hatred I had never known before.

To be honest, I never truly loved him from the start, or anyone else for that matter, not even myself. All I ever wished for was to be loved by someone. From a young age to my older years, I longed to have a woman of my own. However, I was forbidden to pursue love until a certain age, as chosen by my father who deemed it a distraction from my supposed destiny.

By the time I reached that age, love had been erased from my mind entirely, and I became what they had molded me into- a womanizer, not by choice, but by the circumstances imposed on me.

Even though I kept sleeping around while ruling my mafia, I never stopped envying my brother because he got what I always wanted so I murdered his wife before his very eyes then I murdered him five years later for having the life I wanted and then having the romanticism I also craved. I waited long for his demise so he could experience a series of pain.

Ending both of them for causing my misery brought me an indescribable relief.

Relief feels like an understatement because when I met her, Mio, it was as if I had stepped into a world of flying hearts and cupids. And fantasy brought to life.