Reign of the broken

Prologue

Kick.

"PAPA!!"

Punch.

"MAMA!!"

Left hook.

Right hook.

"Non lasciarmi! Per favore, padre!"

High kick.

I keep hitting the punching bag as it swings back and forth as the sweat trickles down my forehead and back.

It's nothing, Rosa. It's Over. I keep chanting in my head.

"Rosa!" I hear my brother Marcel yell out

"What??" I yell back annoyed he's disrupted my training

"Come up here, I need to talk to you!" He responds

I punch the bag one last time before I pick up my water bottle and towel dabbing away the sweat as I walk upstairs towards the formal dining area where I notice my older brother with his 12 trusted men sitting around a large table with him at the head.

"What do you want Marcel?" I question stoically.

"We are having guests over tonight" He states

"Okay. Is that all you called me up here for?" I ask

"No, it wasn't" He states "Leave." He says pointing towards the door. All 12 men get up and leave while bowing their heads slightly at me. Marcel looks towards me and gestures towards a seat that one of our men was recently sitting on.

I take a seat and stare at my brother waiting for him to continue talking.

"Maddox said you had another nightmare last night" he states

"You say it as if I haven't been having nightmares since I could walk" I grind out

"What was it about Rosa?" He questions with a tone of concern

"It doesn't matter," I say

"It matters to me, Rosa" He softly says

"Is that all you really called me up for? Some brother-sister therapy session? because I can tell you that the last therapist I had, is no longer breathing." I say with barely concealed anger.

"Fine.." He relents

"Let's cut the crap and get to the real reason why I called you up here...where the fuck is Xander?" He spits out clenching his jaw.

And yet everyone says that I have trouble with my anger. I roll my eyes bored.

"I don't know where Xander is, dear brother of mine" I mock

"Fucking hell Roséalyn!" He shouts, hitting his balled fist onto the large oak table.

"Just fucking tell me where Xander is! He can't just go around having sex with that DeSantos girl and expect there to not be any consequences!" He spits out with anger

I just look towards Marcel with amusement twinkling in my eyes

"What's wrong Marcellus? Mad that Xander gets more action than you?" I taunt

"No! What's wrong is that Greyson DeSantos found YOUR twin brother fucking his daughter right after he signed the contract and now he's trying to find a way out!" He says

"It's not the first time either of us has ruined your plans" I snicker getting ready to leave already bored of this conversation

"Yeah, and I know it won't be the last" I hear him say as I'm walking down the stairs towards the basement, paying no attention towards the guards lurking in the halls of my home.

My family is not the average family. I mean besides the point that my family is extremely wealthy. It's also extremely dangerous, our last name alone is enough to send fear into people's heart without them actually knowing our 'extra' activities.

Obsidian

The last name that I share with 4 brothers, a father and my mother.

Marcellus Obsidian. The oldest brother amongst us. 26 years old. Inheriting our fathers Raven black hair and green eyes as well as his height. Also very temperamental as you can see.

Alexander Obsidian. The second oldest. 25 years old. Also inheriting our fathers' looks, height but not inheriting the temper. He's the 'peacemaker' amongst us, due to his ability to keep a cool head in the midst of a fight but make no mistake, he can be extremely lethal if tempted.

Xavier Obsidian. The middle child in a way. 24 years old. Yet again another replica of my father with the hair color and eyes yet he seemed to inherit our mother slightly shorter height at 5'10.

Then there is the final two.

Xander and Roséalyn Obsidian.

The Obsidian Twins

22 years old. The only thing that my twin and I have inherited from our father is our temper and that seems to have been inherited a tad too much, with matching black hair and stormy grey eyes. We were the exact replica to our mother.

With the temper that we all carry as well as the name not many people seem to want to know us, many people that my family and I come in contact with only wish to see my family's downfall.

The name that binds me to a family number well over 100. The name that binds me to billions of dollars. The name that is written everywhere. The name that binds me to my brothers. The name that binds me to my past. The name that binds me to my family's legacy.

The name that binds me to the Mafia.