Page 2 of Revenge

I scowled as I hadneverbeen a people person. People were idiots. I preferred my own company.

Glancing around the hoard of men, women, and their brats, I scrunched my nose in disgust. Theentireroom had that old money smell and every man there was in it for a power play. A big dick contest where members of our extended family and friends flaunted their wealth and extravagance. All of which had been accumulated through questionable means. The guests swanning around before me were no better than common criminals so why try and dress that fucker up?

That stifling smell of flowers was almost choking; there were far too many scattered around the hall. It looked borderline ridiculous; like a florist threw up in there.

Thankfully I had managed to get out of the church ceremony and had just been dragged along to the after party.

The wedding reception was being held locally in the main hall of Queen Mary’s Primary School where me and my friends used to go; during those days when I’d had some. Once I moved up to High School and started Blackwood Academy; my contacts in that neighbourhood dwindled.

Now there was only one person I liked enough to call my friend; Nico Rossi, he was half-Italian but I didn’t hold that against him. We’d met at the Academy and although we got off on the wrong foot, we were now as thick as thieves. And I mean that in every sense. We were both born into criminal families so stealing was a given.

Unfortunately, Nico was still at school and so I was stuck at the wedding alone, having been shoved into a suit that was as scratchy as fuck against my skin. I looked like a cunt, there was no other word to describe it. If Nico could see me now, he’d be laughing his arse off which would probably tempt me to knock the twat out. I had a temper, what could I say?

Slipping my finger into my shirt collar, I tugged the material away from my neck. Wearing a tie felt like torture. Da said that I had to get used to wearing fancy shit. The right clothes earned you respect; whatever the fuckthatmeant. I felt like a fucking circus clown. The one I was currently wearing had to be specially made; I was fifteen, almost sixteen but tall and broad for my age. Old Sean, one of my father’s men, said I’d be bigger than him one day. Sean was over six feet with shoulders the size of a fucking car. I sure hoped so; strength made people cower.

I hatedanysocial function, especially ones where I had to dress up like a monkey on display, ready to perform on cue. I sure wished I’d stayed the fuck home today.

Scanning the crowd of guests, I smiled at all the aspiring gangsters my age, falling short of what was expected. They were just boys, punks trying to look tough.

The afternoon was bleeding into the evening and you could see those sad cases that had come without a plus one; all eyeing up what was left; the dregs of who was the best to go home with at the night's end.

No one was there to pay their respects. It was all about the free bar and food, fucking freeloaders.

I checked the time on my phone before sliding it back into my jacket. Mob weddings went one of two ways, they usually ended up as messy as hell or, as messy as hell. Someone would always start a fight towards the end of the evening, usually over pussy. I intended to be long gone before any drama kicked off, I just couldn’t be bothered with it.

A noise erupted in the corridor behind me and I dragged my eyes away from the crowds of people dancing. As far as disco’s went, this one sucked arse. There weren’t even any decent sets of titties to stare at. The girls there were all covered up, mainly because they were mafia princesses and their daddies were close. A woman’s existence in the mafia was as dated as fuck; they were like second-class citizens. Bred purely to be married off as a business arrangement; it was always about building power and making connections. No one seemed to give a shit that women had feelings.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Generally, women were the weaker sex and the need to protect those less fortunate had powered through me since puberty; it was the way I had been raised. My late mother had brought me up to respect the female of the species as did my father, to acertainextent. I still enjoyed eyeing up a decent rack, if I knew I could get away with it, but I didn’t treat girls like shit.

Shouts and jeers; juvenile voices bled down the corridor behind me.

What the fuck?

Pushing off the door frame, I turned into the corridor. I still knew my way around; to the left were the toilets and exit, and to the right was the old gym. The voices were coming from there.

The noise of laughter increased and my pulse raced at the thought of unearthing something interesting.Anythingto make my day more exciting. I was bored to fucking tears and I’d only been there an hour. I’d spent most of that afternoon on WhatsApp with Nico and the other scrolling through shite on TikTok.

As I made my way towards the noise, I glanced around, there were artwork displays, showing primary-aged kids’ work; finger paintings and shit like that. One picture caught my eye, a painting titled ‘My Family’ and I found it amusing that the father of that family appeared to have three arms and one leg; interesting. There was also some graffiti defacing a pastel image;Barbara takes it up the arse. Good for Barbara.

Apart from the scuffling around the corner, the only other sound was the brogues I’d been forced to wearclickingas I walked. The whole area smelt as musty as fuck.

As I came to the edge of the corridor, my thirst for drama dried up as I saw through the crack in the doors to the gym. It was just a bunch of kids fucking with each other. Boring.

Girls and boys between seven and ten were laughing and jeering and just pissing about; like little kids do. Great. My spirits sank and I turned away. It was time to go back to my previous non-activity of leaning and people-watching.

“I’ve heard that she doesn’t even knowwhoher daddy is,” a girl's shrill voice filtered from behind me. I didn’t stop walking, why would I?

“Tommy told me that he’s a greaser who ran away when he knocked up her mom.”

More bouts of laughter ensued and I paused, torn between carrying on doing fuck all or getting involved in whatever the little shits in that gym were doing.

“That’s why her hair is so greasy,” a girl barked with a giggle. Kids could be so fucking cruel.

“I don’t know why you are being so mean Tasha, aren’t we sisters now?” Although faint, that had to be the sweetest voice I’deverheard.

“Sisters? You’llneverbe my sister. You’re trashjustlike your mom. Daddy only wants her so he can have sex. You’re not true mafioso and youneverwill be.”

Sibling rivalry. Fuck that shit. I couldn’t be arsed with that and so I turned and moved away.

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