Dragna
It’s one in the morning and I can’t focus on anything other than a girl who I know hates me.
Sitting in my home office with a glass of whiskey, my laptop open and my phone in front of me, I realise I’m in over my head.
I couldn’t help myself by texting Willow earlier tonight. It was harmless, just a simple text to let her know I’m here to help should she ever find herself in need of it. She never replied and I’m not too surprised considering how our only interactions so far have consisted of me being a jackass.
It also means she’s a smart girl because what twenty two year old would really reply to a thirty four year old unknown man’s message on the new phone he sent to her work address. The work address she also never gave him.
Blyat.
I set my drink down and scrub my hands over my face while breathing deeply. What the hell am I doing? She’s a kid, and an innocent one at that. She doesn’t need me trying to enter her life and putting her in any kind of danger. Especially now with this shit with the Italians and Nero. Ironic that this shit with Nero runs deeper now because of her.
The Italian scumbag cried too easily giving us all the information we needed about his guy who drugged her, which is the second reason for me being awake this late.
I’m currently sat watching the cameras we installed outside his house, waiting to see my men grab him and take him to one of our warehouses.
I watch as they pick the lock to his back door, silently making their way inside the house while a few men stay back outside to keep watch and I turn the sound on to listen in for when they let me know they have got him. The house is in darkness but we know from the cameras that he’s home.
I watched him bring a girl home, a girl who isn’t his wife, who we know is currently away for a girls trip in Rome, and I waited until the girl had left before giving my men orders to proceed.
I keep watching, trying to focus on this mission and wanting to see him in my mens hands.
I’m disgusted in filth like him. For starters he drugs women, secondly he cheats and lastly, he’s Italian. I don’t know how my mother ever put up with my father and his roulette wheel of women or how he treated her so bad for so long.
I would find her some nights crying in bed and as a five year old boy who thought his mum was sent from Heaven just for him, I would get in beside her and comfort her. I was only young and never understood why she was so unhappy when we had everything we could ever dream of.
It wasn’t until I was around fifteen years old I heard my grandfather, my mother’s father, and her talking one evening that I realised what my father was doing.
It was after we had dinner at my grandfathers estate, I was in the dining room with Lev and some of the other kids whose parents were also there for dinner keeping an eye on them all. My mother was crying in the kitchen saying she caught my father with one of the maids, again.
I had seen my father kissing a woman before in his office when I was younger but I was walking past quickly while playing with a remote control car, it never dawned on me that it would of been anyone other than my mother. It sank in then that thewoman I had seen in his office maybe wasn’t her and I had seen him being unfaithful with my own eyes.
I hated him then.
He was never a present father to begin with, he was Capo to Matteo which is how back then, the Italians and Russians had a truce. He and my mother married for business and then once I was born, he was always busy with Italian business, but the fact he was hurting the woman I loved most in the world, I despised him from that day forward.
A year later my mother was sick. She said she had fallen down the stairs and thats why my grandfather had moved us in with him, so that his staff could look after her.
I heard her sobbing uncontrollably to him one night, so I got out of bed and made my way to her bedroom door. I saw through the open gap that my grandfather was holding her and brushing her hair away from her face.
“He will pay for thismoya doch”He said to her.
I found out through talk of the maids the next day that my mother had been pregnant. She had lost the baby, most likely from the stress of my father and when he found out, he beat her. She had never fallen down the stairs, the marks and bruises were from my disgusting father. He had beat my mother, I could of had a brother or a sister and it was just all too much for me to handle. The anger, the sadness, the pain.
I ran to the woods at the back of my grandfathers estate and stayed there all day until darkness claimed the sky. My grandfather found me covered in dirt, shaking and with split knuckles from the trees I had taken my anger out on.
“Moy sil’nyy mal’chik.” He said to me, even though I didn’t feel I had a single ounce of strength left.
“You’re going to be the man of the house soon. You know what that means don’t you?”
I did know. I had grown up in the underworld so I knew exactly what he meant.
He was going to kill my father, which not only was going to cause the truce to end, but that my father was going to cease to exist, and even as a sixteen year old boy, I could comprehend that just fine.
“We have him boss.” A voice comes through my laptop breaking me out of the memories and I press a button on the keyboard and speak.
“You know where to take him. I’ll be there in the morning.”
