The Storm

Chapter 1

Present, O'Sullivan's penthouse

Declan O'Sullivan has just woken up, feeling that something was wrong. He heard a scream downstairs. His mom's scream. He rushed downstairs and saw his whole family around something.

- Mom, is something wrong? - he asked as he was slowly approaching the rest of his family.

- Jacob... Jacob... those bastards! They killed Jake, my only family left. - she answered and turned around.

Her whole face was covered in tears and pain; she stepped out and let Declan see what was the thing that everyone was shockingly looking at - his uncle's head. Declan grabbed a side of the table. He was shocked and broken. His uncle, who always helped him whenever Declan was in doubt, who always listened to him, who was the only one caring for Declan just because of who he was and not because he was an O'Sullivan, he was dead. Not just dead but killed. Declan took a few minutes to calm himself down and then straightened his back and lifted his head up.

- They'll pay for this. Every single one of them. He didn't deserve to die like this. He didn't! - Declan shouted and clenched his fists.

- Son, calm down, - his father made a step forward and looked into Declan's black eyes full of revenge.

- You don't understand. They won't stop. What stops them from coming here and killing all of us?
Nothing! Weren't you the one telling me that family comes first? Did you forget your own words, father? They killed my uncle: one of the closest people to us. But you never liked him, why would you even care if he was dead? - Declan spat those words at his father's face.

- You have no right... - started his father.

- No, I have every right. I'll be on a small vacation in Spain. Don't call me, I'll be fine. - he said and walked away.

Of course, he wouldn't fly to Spain. Italy was his destination. Declan needed blood, the blood of the Italians.

He quickly rushed upstairs and took out one of his small suitcases. Declan's hands were shaking while he was packing everything he might need - guns, knives, clothes. This was the first time he was scared. He never even thought his uncle would get killed by the Italians, probably because his uncle wasn't an O'Sullivan in the first place. However, everyone knew that Jacob Michaelson was his mother's brother and Declan's best friend; although Jacob was ten years older, Declan saw him as a man of his age: Jacob was nice and pure unlike many people related to mafia. He was always the one Declan asked for advice, and he was the one who helped him any time. Declan lost his brother, John, two months ago and with Jacob killed as well, Declan had every right to seek revenge for them.

Declan could feel the tears starting to form in his eyes and he swiped them with his hand. His uncle always told him that it was fine to let your emotions take the lead.

"Crying is how your heart speaks, when your lips can't explain the pain you feel"

Jacob wasn't an emotional type, not even close. Death changes people; strongest people collapse mentally when someone close to them dies. Declan cried once before Jacob's death - his brother's death. They weren't too close: his brother lived in the States with his family. Liam wasn't involved in any family business, he always wanted to become a doctor and save people; mafia world was quite the opposite. Death, robbery, drama and many different things associated with mafia and they are all true. Unlike Liam, Declan liked to be a part of his family and he liked his image of being the "prince" of the Irish mafia. The thought of power intoxicated him with desire to finally be the boss of hundreds and thousands of people.

A sudden call on Declan's phone threw him back into the cruel reality.

- Your car's ready, boss, - Dave's voice was lower than his usual optimistic and confident self.

- I'll be downstairs in a minute. - Declan tried to hide the pain in his voice but it didn't work.

Declan took his documents and his suitcase and rushed downstairs. Different thoughts were running through his head. He needed a place to stay in Italy and communicating with anyone there was too dangerous; he needed someone to find out information about the Italian hideouts. Dave. The only person Declan trusts as much as he trusts his family.

- Please, don't be upset mother, everything will be fine. May God punish the people who caused pain to my beautiful mom, - Declan sad hugging his mother and gently brushing her back. He then kissed her on her cheek.

- Be careful, honey. I don't want you to be in any danger, do you understand me? - she raised her left eyebrow looking intensely at Declan.

- I will try to stay out of trouble but can't promise you anything, you know that. See you very soon, mother. - He hugged her again and whispered the last words.

- Are you not going to say anything to your father? You know he'll be furious when he finds out you left. Talk to him, he's hurting as well. - Charlotte raised her head and looked into Declan's eyes; she didn't like their cold relationship and always tried to bring Declan and Alec closer.

- Tell him I left to Spain and I'll be back in a month approximately. - Declan walked up to the main entrance and looked back for a second thinking whether he made the right decision, but then shook his head and opened the door for new adventures.

A new BMW was parked right in front of the O'Sullivan's penthouse patiently waiting for its owner. Dave went out of the car and opened the back door for Declan.

- Dave, you'll be flying with me. I'll give you money to buy yourself a change of clothes because you can't go around Rome in your suit. - Declan laughed at the last word: he imagined Dave in his grey suit walking into a pub or a shop and people staring at him with their annoying gazed of judgement.

- Boss, I thought we were leaving to Spain. Was I misinformed? - he quickly took out his phone searching for the message with information.

- No, I changed my mind, we'll fly to Italy. - Declan's confident self returned and he sat in the back seat of the car with a proud smile.

Declan was in deep thoughts and didn't even realize how fast time went by. They were already at the airport.

- Good afternoon sir, Declan O'Sulluvan and Dave Walker are the passengers. Yes, two people. We're flying to Italy. Okay, thank you. - Dave's voice came back to normal: work was far important right now.

Dave quickly stepped out of the car and opened Declan's door. He came out and glanced at the city. It was peaceful and quiet. He knew he would never get the peace he wanted but becoming the owner of everything his father has paid off the sacrifices he had to make. Declan took his suitcase out and slowly walked to the airport entrance. He didn't know when he would return and whether he'd return at all. Being a part of mafia always had the uncertainty. One day you could be with your family and the other day you could be shot by an enemy. He took a step into a whole new world he knew nothing about.

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Hey! Hope you are well during this difficult time. Thank you so much for reading my story. I would be beyond than happy if you'd leave your thoughts and voted for my story.

Published on: 23.09.2020

With love, gulya_0411