His eternity

Chapter 2

Francisco's POV

He was whining and whimpering loudly, like a beaten dog. Well, actually that's exactly what he was. A disgusting mutt who dared to betray us. He knew exactly what was to happen if we found out, everyone knew that. And yet he had the audacity to sell the goods that he should pick up for us at our supplier and then transport to us.

He sold them on his own and put the money he got into his own fucking wallet. Fucking 12 pounds of the purest cocaine, all gone. That was a loss of  roughly 400.000$. And since I was responsible for these transport operations, I was in deep shit not only for one but two reasons. No goods and the trouble with the Don, my father.

One might think that as a grown man, I should not worry about having trouble with my father. But if that said father was a hard-to-calculate, weapon-wielding, bipolar mafioso, then you should better worry, no matter the age. My gaze fell on the filthy traitor on the ground, who was beginning to choke on his own blood. I could see in his eyes how he was begging me to finally kill him, end it once and for all.

But I did not want to give him that satisfaction and to let him off that easy. He had burried me under a huge pile of shit, he should pay for it. I swung my leg and hit him again, with full force. My polished shoes found their way into his bruised face as I continued to shout at him. I had to find out if there was a bigger motive behind his actions, cause sometimes these rats were working  for other clans and rival families.

He cried and begged, blabbering into my  ears that his wife and children would be waiting for him at home and how they needed him. As if that interested me in any way, besides, it was a lie. Paolo was a damned good Capo, maybe the best in his field. His special talent consisted of fast tracking and spying. He had sent me the name and all other important data about this little fucker and there was neither a wife nor children.

He would disappear from the world without anyone even caring, unloved and his name dragged through the mudd. As the whimpering slowly started to annoy the fuck out of me, I reached into my waistband with my hand and pulled out my beloved Glock. I twisted and turned it in my hand a couple of times before pressing it against his temple and putting my hand on the trigger.

"One last wish, any last words maybe?"
I asked, knowing that he was no longer in any shape to talk.

"Mmmm pity, I thought you would open your mouth, talk shit and give me another reason to kill you."

I enjoyed the moment of his greatest fear to the fullest extent. A dark, sinister smirk curled my lips upwards as I watched his pants turn darker and him crying loudly in shame. I laughed out loud and pulled the trigger. In a state of pure ecstasy I watched as parts of his brain spurt out of his head, along with the blood, turning my hand a dark red color.

Taking people's lives had become an absolute routine. Instead of disgust or panic I felt an intoxicating feeling that took ahold of my entire body, pretty much as if I just had snorted a line of coke.

I watched his lifeless body drop to the floor. The only sad thing about his demise was that he had soiled my new designer suit with his blood and you would never be able to wash those stains out. I could hear the sound of the door opening behind me and turned to look into my father's angry steel-gray eyes.

"What the fuck is this supposed to be?!" he exclaimed. And i knew I was in deep shit.

"This is the little bastard who has sold our goods." I replied.

"Yes, but look at this mess! I told you to be ready around 11 and to wait for me in the lobby! Today is an important day. I specifically bought this suit for todays event and now, look at it! It's ready to be thrown in the trash..."

He grabbed his head, presumably because of his migraines and to suppress his urge to strangle someone, or more specifically me. He lifted his hand and smacked me in the back of my head.

"Idiota! You are an idiot! Why do I have to leave my life's work to this idiot...
It is time you get tamed by a woman!"

Amused, I shook my head and stepped out of the cell. I waited in front of the door for my father to leave the cell and followed him as he moved down the hall to the cellar's exit.

"What is this whole fuss even about? Why is it so urgent that I'm on time, looking like some stuck-up snob?"

"Stupido, I'm warning you! Do not lose respect and manners towards your parents, or I'll give you a little  revision class to remeber! And besides that, stop asking questions. You are expected to follow the orders givin to you."

We exited the cellar and he pointed towards the stairs.

"Go to your room, take a shower and dress in the most expensive suit you own. I'm waiting here. I expect you to be back in 15 minutes. Andiamo!"

If one could get the idea now that I would let everyone talk to me like that without consequences, I would like to refer to the headless body in the cell again. My father, my mother and my godfather were the only people I had absolute respect for and to whom I was subordinate.

But hopefully not for too long anymore. I've been working day and night for years to take my father's place. But he took all the time in the world and always turned down my offer to take over. He told me I was still too young, inexperienced and impulsive. He said I should start by  finding a woman to make my wife, start a family and then I would officially be a real man in his eyes and ready for the job.

Because as my father always said: "Only a man with a family is a man to whom you show respect".

A woman, what a joke. For years he had sent me all around the world, working day and night to do dirty jobs for him, there had never been time for a woman. I felt like a thirteen-year-old boy when it came to my experiences with women, not like a 25-year-old man.

Where was the woman even supposed to come from? The daughters from our "family", my fathers men, were all spoiled rotten, rude, had no manners what so ever and slept with every man who looked like he had money and power. None of them were real wife material.

After I quickly washed the blood off my body I exited the shower and trimmed my beard as neat as it was possible in such short time. I picked out my dark blue Dolce & Gabbana suit and quickly combed through my black curls. Looking at myself in the mirror, I was satisfied . As I reached the lobby I saw my father standing at the door and my mother trying to straighten his tie.

She gave him a happy little peck on the lips and stroked his arm. God knows what had attracted her to my father because they were polar opposites. While my mother could definitely be honored as the loveliest and sweetest woman in the world, my dad was an ice cold businessman. And while she always managed to lighten up the room when she entered, even in the most tense situations, one would never want to cross my father's path at night.

They had heard my footsteps and both turned to face me. My dad gave me an approving nod and my mother came up to me and pulled me into her petite frame.

"Angelo, look what a handsome young man we raised! Well of course that's mostly my acchievement".

She laughed and I had to smile.

"Alright, go now, I'm curious how it's going to go! " She looked at my father excited.

"Mama, can you at least tell me what exactly is going on, I'm completly clueless over here."

My mother beamed at me.

"Tesoro, it's time for you to meet your wife!"