𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

51

Giovanni

I can't do this anymore, it's been three weeks since they left and I couldn't sit another day in this house without them here.

Everyone keeps telling me that I just need to give her some time and space and I've been trying, I've been trying so fucking hard but I can't anymore.

We know where they are, we have known for a while now once I sobered up and remembered that Mila's wedding ring has a tracker inside of it.

It sounds dysfunctional I know, but in my line of work, it's very much necessary, as well as in the matching necklaces I got the kids, I wasn't taking any chances.

As if I wasn't doing bad enough he walks into the room, his arm wrapped around my mother's frail body, after the incident that day at my parent's house she hasn't been doing great, she hasn't been eating, or speaking, shit she's barley even fucking living and there was only one person to blame for that, him.

I look up from my desk, already irritated at the sight of him Sergio barges into the room. "I tried to stop him."

"It's fine Serge," I tell him and he nods, gives my father one final glare, and walks out of the room, he and Dario have been coming over a lot, they say it's because they want to but I know they were silently checking on me without telling me.

I appreciated them for it because god knows what I might have done if it weren't for them being here all the time.

"Am I not welcomed in my son's home?" He asks and my anger rises, this man never ceases to piss me the fuck off, and I was starting to get sick of his bullshit.

"What do you want."

"I want my son to explain to me what the fuck is going on with his whore wife, you're telling me all this expensive tech shit you have you haven't fucking found her?"

My fist clenched at my side. "Don't fucking call me that." I seethe.

I used to beg for this asshole's love when I was younger, wanted nothing more than for him to call me his son, hearing the words now leave. Bad taste on my tongue and I fucking hated hearing it.

I am not his son, and he is not my father.

"You are my son are you not? You came out of my fucking balls you ungrateful bastard!" He shouts.

"Marco!" My mother shouts and he shoves her away from him, my fingernails dig into the skin of my palms as I watch my mother balance herself and catch herself from falling.

"You shut the fuck up, you're a whore just like that bitch," he turns back to me as he points an angry finger at me. "You don't want me to call you son?" He laughs. "If anything I should be the one disgracing you! You and your whore mother have been a burden on my fucking life, and now you pull this shit?!" I give him a blank stare.

"Either tell me what you came for or get the fuck out of my house."

"You wouldn't be shit without me, boy! Do you think you are tough now? That's because of me!" He slams a hand on his chest. "All that training I did for you when you were young so protect yourself now! Just to turn around and betray me!"

"Training? Is that what we're calling abuse now?" I tilt my head.

"Abuse? You're fucking soft I hardly touched you!" He chuckled. "He's soft because of you. All that bull shit you put in his head about love," he scoffs. "Love, it doesn't fucking exist."

"How many times have I been in and out of the hospital only to have my medical records wiped clean because you knew what was on them would have put you away for life!" I shout.