TWO| Feelings

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"Marco, make sure everything is set for tomorrow

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"Marco, make sure everything is set for tomorrow. I don't want anything to go wrong. We go in there, get the girls out. That's the priority. When you find Nikolai, bring him to me. I want him alive, Callan." I order.

This bitch, Nikolai, has a sex slavery ring in new York. He has girls as young as 8. That's fucking disgusting. We're gonna get the girls out and also get him.

Callan, my third man and best friend, nods. He then heads out to make sure all our other men were prepared.

The Italian mafia and the Russian mafia had always had problems. But it became more than just a problem, when they killed Isabella. When they took her for two years, leaving us with basically nothing to bury her. It became more than a problem, when Maria died in a car crash. It became more than a problem when Roberto killed himself because every part of his family was now gone.

They took away Maria and Roberto. They were like my family. But most of all they took my Bella.

And now that the Italian and American mafia have joined. We're stronger than ever. I'm gonna get that
figlio di puttana, and I'm gonna torture him until he is begging to die. (Motherfucker)

"You're doing this for Isa, aren't you?" Marco says, sitting at the chair in front of my table.

That stupid nickname.

My body tenses, my jaw hardening at the mention of her. "Marco, get out." I grit out through my teeth.

I'm not doing this for Bella. I'm doing this for Maria and Roberto. It's for them. Definitely not her.

He puts his hands up in defeat. "You know, I cared about her too." I get even angrier, looking up at him from my seating positing, a scowl on my face. "I don't know about you, but Im definitely doing this for her." He says, protectively.

I feel the dark sense of jealousy springing up. Making me want to punch him.

"Marco, levati dal cazzo di qui." I yell. (Get the fuck out of here.)

His eyes harden, but he accepts defeat, knowing better than to piss me off. It's true that he was my brother, but I was still the Don of this mafia. When my father got older, I became the Don. And Marco had to respect that.

He gets up, getting out of my office.

I sigh looking down at my tattoo covered hand. But the thing I'm looking at is the ring on my finger. The ring that I gave to Isabella just a couple weeks before she went missing. The ring that came back with her death note.

"Rest in peace, Bella." I mutter under my breath, before I leave a kiss on the ring.

Suddenly Callan waltz through the door.

"Callan, fucking hell. I'm your Don. It wouldn't kill you to knock." I yell, angrily.

This is why you don't make friends with people who work for you. Especially in the mafia.

A tribute Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu