Page 22 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

His connection to the Italian mafia only aids in that. Without their money, I doubt we would be staying afloat.

With a sigh, I kick off my shoes, not caring if they scuff the wall when they bounce off the tiled floor. Irritation courses through my veins as I yank open the hall closet and throw my backpack inside.

Of course, he's giving me the silent treatment instead of talking to me about what happened. Sometimes I think I'm the adult.

This isn't the first fight we've had, and I doubt it'll be the last. It seems like the two of us can only agree for a day or two before we are back at each others’ throats.

Most of the time it seems like we're two diametrically opposed people who are bound to never, ever get along.

My counselor at school says it'll get better as I get older, but I think she's full of shit.

I don't see how any of this could get better. None of it.

I slide out of the blazer and hang it on the hook inside the closet. I hate the blazer. There are times I think that it would be better to burn the damn thing than to return to private school.

Dad seems to think that the only way to get a good education is to attend a private school with a bunch of uppity assholes.

One of these days, they're going to figure out that the only reason I can afford to go to private school is because my dad loves the mafia more than he loves me.

“Are you even here?” I shout to the empty house around me. “I know you didn't have to go away tonight, which means that you have to be here since you're always home before me. We need to talk.”

Groaning, I walk down the hallway, footsteps heavy as I push open one door after another, searching for him in the lounge room, the formal dining room, and his office.

There's no sight of him in the rooms he normally hides from me, so I head to the home theatre.

As I shove thick burgundy curtains out of the way, I prepare to talk to him, trying to explain my side of the story yet again.

“If you would only leave the mafia behind, we might actually be happy. I could see a world in which we would finally get along.”

No matter how many times I tell him, it doesn't seem to clock with him that he's losing out on living life with me.

“The day I turn eighteen, I'm out of this hellhole and never looking back. There's no way I'm going to get wrapped up with them like an idiot.

As soon as I can be free, I’m running. Dad can either come with me, or he can stay, but I won’t allow him to drag me down with him anymore.

There’s only so much I can love him and try to save us before I have to give up.

With the curtains shifted to the side, all I can see are the empty leather recliners and the dark screen at the front of the room.

There's still more house to search, but my stomach growls, prompting me to walk to the kitchen.

It's only when I round the island in the center that I see the blood on the ground. The blood smeared on the floor leads to my father’s body, his arms outstretched as if he’s still trying to drag himself to the phone that’s sitting on the counter.

The scream that comes from me sounds more animal than human, high-pitched and terrifying. I scream until my voice is hoarse. Until I can't make another sound.

Sobs wrack my body until I'm sure that I have no more tears left to cry, and it's only once I stand, blood staining my hands where I try to revive him, that I see Nicolo.

“We'll get revenge.”

***

Sweat dampens the back of my neck, sticking my hair to my skin as I sit up in bed, pulling my knees tight to my chest and holding them. It feels like there's a hand, squeezing the air from my lungs, forcing me to take quivering breaths, trying to get enough oxygen to breathe.

It's been nearly a year since I last dreamed about his death.

It still hurts.

I would give anything to be able to go back in time to come into that kitchen before his death, maybe even an hour sooner. When the paramedics showed up, they said that there was nothing I could do, that he'd succumbed to his wounds. If I had been home a little bit earlier, I might have been able to help him.

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