Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
I shut the door before he could finish, cutting him off.
*Giovani*
I was not unaccustomed to misery and how it kept me company. On nights when silence was too loud, and when the weight of the world seemed to crush me under its burden, it was the only friend that I had.
It would be a lie to say that I enjoyed its company, but it was also a lie to say I did not. Sometimes, when the night was dark and everything was too much to bear, misery whispered in my ear. It was comfortable, safe even, despite how much I knew its words were only half-truths.
I couldn’t bear to retreat to the bedroom I’d shared with her, not when it was so empty. I yearned for the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the security of having her in my arms where I could tell her how much I loved her while she slept away.
But now, I was utterly alone with misery and the moon.
The light poured from the open window, illuminating the glass bottle in front of me. Beads of condensation were already growing on the untouched glass, hitting the mahogany-stained wood underneath it.
If Gabriele could have seen it, he would have lectured about using coasters to protect the expensive wooden study. All of my predecessors had used the desk before me, and their shadows watched me in disappointment.
They could get in line, I thought, as I stared blankly at the amber liquid inside, not even having the strength to take a sip. It was a poison, I knew. To my body and to my mind, it was like drowning myself in a drug to numb everything.
Maybe that was why I came back to it every time I couldn’t handle the stress of my life. I didn’t have to feel anything under its effects, and right now, I craved the lack of sensation it would bring.
“Drink it,” my mind whispered like an addict without restraint, “and all your problems will vanish.”
It sounded just like misery when it whispered how much better off I was being alone.
I sighed, pouring out the glass as I removed the temptation from my sight.
How many hours had I sat here already, waiting out the night so that I wouldn’t have to return to my silent room and my empty bed? Her scent had permeated every inch of the sheets, and I wasn’t going to torture myself with what I couldn’t have.
I thought it would get easier as the hours went on, but I was wrong. It only drained me more of my strength to refuse the tempting liquid courage I had filled my study with.
The bottle now sat beside me on the desk, half-full. A drop slid down the side, a reminder that I could forget for the night if I just downed the whole thing.
But it didn’t matter how much liquor I drank; she would still be angry with me.
She would still be out of my reach, and there would still be that look in her eye, the one that screamed that she was going to run away.
I looked at the clock hanging on the wall. It was already past 2:00 AM. She would be asleep by now, curled up with Dahlia when she should have been with me.
I’d never been envious of my younger cousin before, but I was downright jealous at the moment.
But this argument had not been a surprise. Our disagreement had been building for weeks now. I knew how much stress she was under, how shaken she had been after being thrust into all this.
I’d had a lifetime to get used to it, and she only had a couple of months. She was still so young, so innocent. It was only natural that she didn’t know how to handle all of this as well as Dahlia or Tallon did.
The two of them were raised in this.
But truthfully, it wasn’t Olivia that was the problem. She was right that she deserved to know what was going on. Being with me painted a large target on her back, and if she was going to be involved, it would help her to be prepared for what she might face.
But that didn’t mean I wanted her to know the truth.
If I told her about James and the family, about Mikhail and why Dmitri hated us, would she even understand? She was kind and trusting, and she believed in people. I had no doubt she would sympathize with the man for his losses and try to find some kind of humanity in his blackened soul that just wasn’t there.
Dmitri was so lost in his hatred for me–for the Valentinos–that nothing could pull him away from that path. This wasn’t going to be solved like in movies or TV shows. Friendship, love, and compassion couldn’t stop people like him.
He would kill her in front of my eyes just to prove a point, to make me suffer.
How could I tell her that, explain that to her, when she had only ever seen the good in people? She saw kindness in me, but not the red that coated my hands. I had to keep it that way.
I was the leader of a mafia family. I killed and stole and lied on a daily basis. We made a living from piling bodies at our feet and committing crimes behind closed doors. We were not kindhearted people–compassion and selflessness were not tolerated in our line of work.
And to lead those kinds of people, the kind of people willing to commit atrocities for their own selfish benefits, I had to get my hands just as dirty.
If she knew of the darkness I hid from her, the stains under the wallpaper, and the blood under the floorboards, she would never look at me the same again.
She would run.
But it was far too late for that.
I fucking loved her with every fiber of my being. I refused to lose her. I’d given her chance after chance to run, to not get involved, but now… I was a possessive man, and even if she begged me to, I could never let go of her.
No, I had to keep her safe, from Dmitri and from the truth. The longer she remained oblivious, the safer she would be, no matter how much she hated me for it.
I sighed, rubbing my temples as I leaned back into my chair. I was exhausted, about ready to collapse, and my head was beginning to pulse. A headache was beginning to form right there on the edge of my mind, and I knew it was going to be a bad one.
As I shut my eyes, it only took a few minutes of me relaxing before things went wrong once again. I heard the hurried footsteps of someone rushing down the hall, and my door burst open, just barely stopping before it hit the wall with force.
I groaned, glaring at the intruder.
It was Gabriele, and I stiffened at the dark look on his face.
I knew that look.
“There’s been a hit,” Gabriele growled out, stepping inside as he slammed the door behind him. It was loud enough that it might’ve woken the whole household, but I was more worried about the content of his message.
“Who?” I demanded, gripping my hands together painfully. Another one of my men killed on my watch?
Fucking hell.
Gabriele glanced at me, a mixture of remorse, pain, and fury in his eyes. He’d lost control; I could see it on every inch of his tensed-up body. He was barely restraining himself from tearing down the walls and trashing my office.
I grimaced, preparing myself for the worst-case scenario.
“It was Vincent.”
And at those words, my world came crashing down around me. The wreckage was deafening and I glanced at Gabriele, thinking for a moment that this must be some kind of sick joke.
“Vincent was sent to the States,” I said slowly, “on a mission. He’s not coming back to Italy for another two weeks.”
Gabriele shook his head. “That’s what we thought. He arrived at the airport one hour ago. He didn’t tell anyone. I guess he thought he’d surprise us. But he was alone and they….”
“Killed him,” I finished, blankly.
“Yeah,” Gabriele swallowed, and the grief washed out of him in waves.
“They killed Vincent?” I asked for a final time, barely comprehending the words.
