The Mafia's Heir

Someone once told me that death is not the opposite of life but rather a part of it. They were right. Death brings no suffering especially when one has witness so much death you just become numb to the suffering. I cant tell what is worst feeling pain or feeling nothing at all.

Luckily for me all I feel is pain as my blood flows onto the dirt road and I glance at my surroundings, a war zone. Soldiers who blindly followed there leaders into battle. Some wincing and limping others not even the slightest movement shown.

*whack!* My head whips as a fist connects to my jaw. Barely able to see and high on adrenaline I do what any insane man would I smile a big ass smile which only makes me look batshit insane.

"Die Already!"
"You should know by now Capo..." I say with distaste. "The Prince of Darkness can't be killed so easily," my smile shifts to an evil smirk which only irks him further. He sends another blow straight to my face and I go down. I couldn't help but let out a dark, sinister chuckle. This is what I was born for... my family's very own killing machine.

This was the world I was born into. Gathering what strength I have left I rise up from the ground. The dried up blood mixed with dirt sticks to my skin while my wounds make it even more difficult to move. Before he has a chance to strike me again I grab a broken off branch and stab him with the sharp end of the stick. He falls forward and I catch him by leaning him against my own batted and bruised body. He starts gurgling blood when I lean close enough to whisper, "What do you think of the monster that you created...Uncle?"

My name is Myth Perez and this is my story.

This is the story of Myth Pérez who finds out after moving to New York City that he is the Heir to the Spanish Mafia. Myth has to deal with a whole lot of family drama and of course secrets that start to come out into the open.