Mafia Prisoner

Ch. 72 - My Vow

Niko POV

For days I paced my floors, wearing out a clear line in the carpet. I didn't know what to do anymore. I closed myself off for so long I'm not even sure I can be anything but a beast, like Viv calls me.

I walked the halls of my house, feeling everyone's hard glare on me. The look in my men's eyes were of disgust and I felt the same way about myself. Vivian has been here for months and I did nothing but try to put her under my thumb.

She is a fierce woman with a compassionate heart that I should have never tried to silence. Viv could stare a beast in the eyes and tell me to fuck off, not even thinking twice about it. She didn't deserve this. I only knew I had a child after he was gone. She knew for weeks, if not months.

I caught glimpses of her laying lifeless in her bed and I couldn't think of anything to do to help. I wanted her more than anything. I wanted to comfort her, mourn our lost child together, but I had no right to her anymore. I had so many opportunities to do right by her and I didn't. I was an idiot that wouldn't let my pride go.

I leaned down to my parent's grave with tears in my eyes. If they were here my life wouldn't be this way. My mom would have slapped me upside the head for even thinking of treating her that way. My father would have probably beat me. He wasn't an abusive father but he wouldn't have stood for the treatment I gave Viv.

"Help." I whispered with my eyes closed, tracing my mother's name. "I need help. I can't do this on my own. I can't fix this. I don't know how." I cried, praying my mother's sweet embrace would magically take hold of me. I felt like a hopeless boy again wanting to crawl in my father's lap. He was a large man, like I was now. His embrace was strong yet gentle and always loving.

I remembered sitting on his lap in his study, like I did many nights. I was a withdrawn child to the world, but to my parents and sister, I was the little boy of the house. My father would sip his whiskey, sometimes smoking a cigar, while my sister and I would read a book laying on the floor. The both of us always liked to be close to him. When he worked we often read quietly in the same room just to be in his presence. When he moved to his chair to rest I always crawled into his lap. He was busy or traveling a lot, but when he was home, he was a father first.

My mom loved baking and knitting. She could handle the other wives like a true Queen, throw the most lavish of parties, but at home she was like a grandma with her hobbies. She was always giving us snacks she just baked which is probably what gave me such a sweet tooth.

Both my parents would always listen to even the smallest of our worries. From monsters under the bed, to mean boys at school, to our little crushes, they listened and comforted us. I only needed my family in life, only wanted my family.

The outside world never interested me. The city life was too loud and extravagant, the parties always boring with an air of fakeness to it, school made me irritated how everyone feared me. Home was the only place I was just a child with no expectation to be anything else.

"Nikola, your teacher called me this morning. She wanted to apologize for a little girl pushing you. Do you want to tell me what really happened?" My father's voice was soft, but he always had a warning to it. A warning to speak proud and truthful.

I shrugged my little shoulders at him not wanting to tell him the truth.

"Nikola! I asked you a question. Tell me what happened and we can work out a solution." My father's blue eyes, just like mine, stared at me.

"The girl gave me a flower. I took it and I felt... I don't know, happy. She is cute, but she doesn't speak to me often. During recess I overheard her tell her friend that her mom was making her be nice to me. I was upset so I crushed the flower. I told her I would never be friends with someone so far below me." I hid my face in my father's chest, knowing his stare was one of disappointment.