The Mafia's Angel | 18+

𝙁𝙞𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣

𝘼𝙧𝙞

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

The tension in this room was suffocating.

Ariella sat in front of her brother at their penthouse in the city, sixty-five floors up and buried in the clouds. It felt like we were a world away from everything; not a sound was heard except for the creak of the building when the wind slammed into the glass, the awkward clicking of their grandmother's knitting needles, or the clearing of a throat because neither Ariella nor Erik had bothered to make a sound. They stood in a silent stare-off, the same onyx hair atop their head and green eyes glaring at each other. They are two halves of the same coin.

Truthfully, the shootouts I've been in have been less stressful than sitting here.

Elio and I stood behind Ariella, two silent guards, as we watched Erik assess her. As of right now, I am sitting as boss; I make the decisions on most things. When it came to family spites, that was something he could absolutely handle; God knows I don't want to be on the receiving end of Ariella's anger again. But I knew Ariella was assessing the situation, and with their grandmother sitting beside Erik on the lounge, she was up against the two of them, which meant that she was up against a wall of people who wanted to make decisions for her. Regardless of her being a legal adult, Erik had always thought she needed to be told what to do and what to say. He apparently didn't believe in freedom or true freedom when it came to his sister.

"Ariella," Erik finally broke the silence, and it was like a knife was thrown into the wall, splitting the barrier that had been set up. "Nonna and I have been talking, and we both think it's in your best interest to return with Nonna to Italy."

My heart stopped. Italy. They wanted to send her to fucking Italy. A whole ocean would separate us. I had just gotten her, and they were already trying to rip her from me. Elio looked over at me, and I had to stiffen my spine not to show the panic that was swirling in my veins. Italy. Fucking Italy. It made sense; she had family there, and she could heal in peace, but the selfish part of me couldn't let her go, wouldn't let her go without a fight. I needed Ariella to fucking breathe; she has been one of the only reasons I got up for so many days in the nearly ten years I've known her. To see that goddamn smile, to hear her stunning laugh, to feel alive when I felt dead inside for so long. And they were going to take her, take my reason to exist in a world like this away from me.

"I'm not going to Italy Erik," Ariella's voice was stern and it snapped me out of the spiral I was going down.

"Ariella," Erik sounded exhausted, his hand running down his face. "It's in your best interest; it's for your safety and mental stability. You need to go."

Ariella crossed her arms, and that defiant look crossed her features. It was the most attractive look, yet I would never want to be on the opposite end of that look. She was difficult to deal with on a good day, that was just her personality, but when she was pissed off, it was like dealing with an angry bull. It was equally terrifying as it was sexy.

"I'm not going Erik, that's final."

I tensed as Erik slammed his hands on the table, "Why the fuck not Ariella? You do not need to be leeching off Ari, and you do not need to be in the city anymore."

"Because you know what's best for me, right?" Ariella snapped, "Over me?"

The entire room was silent, Ariella's words dropping like a bomb in the middle of a warzone. Erik's jaw was clenched, Nonna had set her knitting needles aside, seemingly realizing that her grandchildren were about to have another fall out. Erik's personality was just as volatile as Ariella's if not worse. The Abelli children seemed to share that wonderful trait of being quick to anger, slow to understanding. Espeically when it was between siblings.