Hateful obsession

Chapter 9

Charlotte
"Home. Sweet home. Italian style for American girl and Russian wife."

I drove through the big massive golden gates with my head held high, as I was always taught. The car is not mine - it belongs to my Russian husband, the house I will soon enter is also not mine - it belongs to my Italian brother, so at least the confidence will be mine.

It's easy to be intimidated in such a world, but that's what makes you tough. Most people, including my "relatives," are cold-blooded killers. While it's a disgrace in the outside world, it's a badge of honor for the mafia. But I'm not that far from them, am I?

We hadn't even gone a few meters when the head of security, Angelo, came out of the small guard house. He is old, in his sixties. His once fair hair is now completely white and washed out by time. Although the years have made him older, he still seems the same as on my first visit to this place. I try not to look at him now that I know that since I became the princess of this Italian clan and have seemingly turned into an enemy.

He comes to the glass on my side as I lightly press the brake and leans over, urging me to roll down the window. As I do, his voice is completely at odds with the calm expression on his face.

"Miss Kirillova, how can I help you?"
"Oh, it would be nice to say hello, Angelo." I pushed my sunglasses up my nose a little so he could see my gaze. "And for you to shove your stubbornness up your ass and let me in."

"With all due respect, you don't dare give me such orders." His jaw twitched slightly.
"Oh, with all due respect, but I'm afraid Alex will kill you if you don't let me through." All the sweet smile immediately disappeared.
"You're passing."
"Thank you, you're so sweet, Angelo." I snorted and closed the window and stepped on the gas again.

"They clearly don't like you." My ponytail for a week twitched. "Why?"
"I don't really care." I shrugged. "The Italians don't really like the wife of the Russian mafia, you know."

We drove along the gravel past the hundreds of bushes and trees of the garden to finally reach the house. The house is huge, as you would expect from the residence of the Italian mafia in New York. A wide marble staircase leads to a large door. Pathos is my brother's middle name.

"God, I am in heaven!" I turned my head towards the voice of Lin who pressed her cheek against her window. "Tell me that I can marry your brother."
"I'm afraid that's not entirely possible because he's married and has three children, dear." I rolled my eyes as I turned off the ignition.
"No luck," She clicked her tongue, getting out of the car after me.

Exhaling, I began to climb the steps, wanting to hear the sound of heels for even more confidence, but since it would not be appropriate for shorts and a simple T-shirt, my huge brother would squeeze my 5'7 body like bread in a toast box.

Hearing quick footsteps behind me, I pushed open the massive doors and entered the cold room. A wide marble staircase leads to a large hall with a light marble floor. The gold rim of the Chesterfield sofa in the middle, the columns and even the carpet are visible even from the entrance. The ceilings are vaulted, and in the middle is a painting of angels fighting demons. They are literally everywhere. This usually makes visitors stop and stare at the intricate detail inserted into the image.

On the other hand, it is also usually the last thing they see before they are "taken care of". While the hosts invite their partners here, their enemies are always invited too. Heaven and hell. Angels and demons. So different, but without both there would be no balance in the universe.

"Your brother is waiting for you in the living room." I saw a body silhouette in the dark corner, Karl, my brother's assistant."
"Long time no see." I smiled falsely again, moving closer to him, because that was where the open entrance to the living room was. "You seem to have matured." I tossed him the car keys. "There are my and Lin's baggage in there, take them to our rooms."