➳ capo dei capi // l.s.

1.0

   " Here, sweetie. If you need anything else just ask Greta to bring you. " His mother's sweet tone warmed his insides, the peck on the forehead enhancing the warmth in his stomach. Oh, how he missed her calming voice.

    Harry only nodded quietly, his hands reaching for the food presented in the tray in front of him. He missed being treated like the prince he is. It's been two days since he escaped that hellhole, both of them being spent in his bedroom after he quarreled with his father.

    " You can't just let them roam freely and let them act like they own the world! You have to send them to prison! Press charges or anything! " Harry slammed his fists against the wooden table, wincing immediately at the pain he was already feeling in one of them.

    " Harry. I can't do anything of the sort. I'm implicated in shit, too. " His father tried reasoning with him, before his phone started ringing up in his pocket. This only caused his son to clench his jaw and breath in deeply in attempt to calm himself.

    " But- " He was silenced by a simple motion of the hand of his father which sent him storming out of the room, the door slamming loudly against the frame.

    " They're going to pay. "

    He was still pissed off that his father refused to do anything, but he understands that will only ruin his image. Of course, the only thing he ever cared for. At least his mother gives a shit about him.

" Mr. Styles? " Greta's wary voice echoed through the walls, reaching Harry's ears. " Your father requests you. " Her strong Russian accent is enhanced at the 'r's .

Harry scoffs, holding himself back from rolling his eyes. " Tell him I'll be down in a minute. " He puts down his phone, pissed off at his inferiors that they won't stop bugging him and he scrambles to his legs, going for the door.

    Greta bows her head down politely as Harry passes her, his feet thumping against the expensive floor, to show everyone how pissed he is. Lately that's the only emotion he felt. Anger.

    " What could you possibly- " He stopped himself mid sentence when he saw the person positioned in front of his father. " Hello, mr. Goodwill. " He cleared his throat, trailing towards him with tiny steps, his shoulders slightly slumped.

    Mr. Goodwill scrutinized Harry from head to toe, his small eyes burning the boy's flesh as they did so. " Are you sure he's the right choice for the successor CEO of the company? " His raspy, low voice boomed in the room.

    Harry's father let out an awkward laugh trying to play it off. " Of course, Stein. He may not show it, but he's very responsible and mature. " That made Harry mentally roll his eyes. " He'll be a wonderful husband to your daughter. "

    Those words made Harry's heart drop in his stomach. " Husband? " He choked out as he struggled to find a seat next to Mr. Goodwill.

    " Of course. Lydia can't wait to meet you. " The man rested his palm on Harry's shoulder, causing to boy to wince pathetically. He's not looking to settle down. Not at all. " I've heard you have wonderful manners. And you know how to treat a lady. "

    " Oh, he knows that too well. " He could hear his father's smirk disguised as polite words.

    He doesn't fucking want to get married at nineteen. Or ever. He's used to having multiple distractions wrapped around his fingers and pleasing him every way he desired. Harry wanted to shoot back, but he knew he's going to regret it, so he kept his mouth shut until the conversation was over. Did he mention he was pissed off?