Heartless People

ONE

There are four kinds of homicide;
felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praisewartliy

Ambrose Bierce

Lauren Jauregui

So, today was the day. I drank straight from the brandy bottle. Fuck the glass. I was too tired to move.

"You plan on sharing?" Nancy asked as she rubbed her body against mine.

Handing her the bottle, I leaned back, watching her pour the liquor down her throat. God, I was going to miss the throat but that was about it.

"This is such a sad day." She frowned when I took the bottle back. If only she would leave our "meetings". But there was no point kicking her out right this second. Our meetings were officially over, or my mother would demand my heart and my father would hand it up to her.

"What's this girl's name again?" Nancy asked, rolling on top of me.

Brushing her hair back from her face, I thought of all the things I'd rather be doing instead of talking but had to restrain myself.

"Karla Camila Cabello," I said, taking another swing.

She pouted, and it was ugly, Most of her facial expressions were ugly but I didn't keep her around for her face, or her brain form that matter.

"Arranged marriages are so circa the eighteen hundreds. How can you get married to a girl you've never met before? You don't even know what she looks like. What is she's ugly, or fat?" She asked. It would have been a good point if it didn't matter who my family was and what we did for a living.

I've explained this to Nancy. The Cabello's are one of the more powerful family in Italy and most of Europe. My father wants an end to the rivalry between the Irish and the Italians. So, even if she's ugly, or fat, or covered in bloody warts, I will do my duty and marry her." Pushing her off me, I rose to my feet.

Michael, my father, had spoken of this marriage for the past twelve years. I was only fifteen and wanted to prove myself, so I was willing to do anything that needed to be done to make the family proud, like a good bloody idiot. I should have just let Chris marry her, but he had already hacked into his first major Swiss bank account, robbing the Russians blind. Veronica, who is my cousin. Had already found herself the perfect arm candy. Like all kids, we wanted to impress our fathers. I thought I had no other option, but like I said, I was a bloody idiot.

"You can just marry me. I am one quarter Italian." Nancy laughed and rolled around the bed, I was going to have to burn those sheets or maybe get a new bed.

"Not even if hell froze over and my mom was six feet deep," I replied, grabbing a towel.

"And why?' she yelled, holding the sheet to her chest as if she had any modesty to protect.

I looked her dead in the eyes. "Because you are a whore, a woman of no importance or brains with nothing to note but a good ass and a deep throat."

Walking over to her, I kissed the side of her cheek before holding on to her sweet throat. "But don't be sad. We all have our role to play, and you have played yours. Your service will no longer be needed.

"Letting go of her, I grabbed a few bills from my wallet before throwing them in her direction.

"I am not a prostitute." she held back a sob.

I hate criers. I smirked at that.

"Yet, you're going to take the money anyways."

I headed to the bathroom, and when she didn't reply, I turned back to her one last time.