Sinful Desires (ONGOING)

P R O L O G O

N I N E T E E N Y E A R S A G O

12-year-old Xante emotionlessly watched as the members of the Mafia surrounded him, thanking the heavens that their heir was alive and safe. If that is what he was.

The large party glided with an orchestra band playing beautiful melodies and the members wore national salaries as delicate outfits and jewels. The ballroom filled with extravagant chandeliers drown his senses as well as the fresh scent of Lake Lugano. His mother and father had large, excited grins on their faces, the sight causing the room to be illuminated. His younger siblings approached him once, twice, then thrice, begging to play.

Thinking he was the same Xante as before.

my love is like to ice, and I to fire:

Omarion, noticing how miserable his brother seemed, approached Xante with his hands in his pockets, hair sharply cut close to his head. His dark Oxfords clicked on the marble floor as his caramel skin contrasted with his white button-up.

"Hey," He murmured softly.

All Xante could offer was a nod. He did not have the energy for anything more than that. Xante's vision began to swim and white dots appeared every time he closed his lids. Trying to stay awake, he ran his hand through his shoulder-length raven curls, feeling another bout of nausea turn his stomach over.

how comes it then that this her cold so great

Observing his brother for a couple of moments, Omarion shook his head and whispered mischievously, "Leave, before Mamma sees you,"

Xante looked up at his adopted brother, blue eyes filled with confusion at his words, "I can't. This," He gestured to the irrelevant celebration where the adults drowned champagne and tried to make irresponsible decisions for the first time in a year, "Is for me. Mamma would kill me,"

Omarion kissed his teeth in annoyance and gestured towards Javier, Vladimir and Matteo, who were sneakily whispering together in a group, eyeing the huge cake in front of the ballroom, "Oi, idiots. Come here,"

is not dissolved through my so hot desire,

The boys rolled their eyes and strolled toward their two friends with mischievous smirks. Javier spoke up, bored, "What?"

Omarion replied sneakily, "We need to make a distraction so X can leave,"

Chilling smiles grew on the three boys' faces as they nodded in agreement, chuckling under their breaths. Vladimir wiggled his bushy brows, platinum blonde hair shrugging over his vision as he grinned, "Distraction is our middle name,"

Matteo looked confused as he shook his brown hair, British accent prominent, "I thought your middle name was Aleksandr,"

This was true. When the four boys were born in the same year, their parents thought it hilarious to give all of them variations of the name 'Alexander'. Matteo, since his mother was just too English to reconsider, got Alexander, Javier got Alastair (after the suggestion of the Scottish woman who delivered him), and Vladimir got Aleksandr. and Xante got Alessandro.

Shaking his head at his friend's slow train of thought, Javier facepalmed and sighed, "We'll do it. But, you have to leave now, so your mom doesn't murder us,"

Xante nodded and muttered a quick thanks. He speed walked out of the hall, not caring to look behind at the song his brother and friends had just burst into at a different corner. He arrived at his room, closed the door and got into the large bed.

Stay awake. Xante, you have to stay awake.

but harder grows the more I her entreat ...

Before he knew it, his lids closed in sleep, darkness filling his senses. Then, there was fire. Everywhere. It enveloped him and his body, the orange flames licking around him. 

When he looked up, he saw his entire family drowning in the flames a few steps away from him. Their screams filled his hearing as their skin gruesomely burned off, peeling into a mess of char and ashes.

"XANTE, HELP US," screamed his mother, the pain apparent in her tone.

Xante tried to move. He tried to leave, to reach out, anything. He looked down at his feet to ty and figure out why he wasn't moving when he noticed the fire was coming from him. His palms were releasing bursts of fire that were sprayed at his own family.

"MAMMA,"

"MAMMA, PLEASE,"

"MAMMA, I'M SORRY,"

Xante woke up in a sharp burst and began to sob at the gruesome image still behind his eyes. He scratched at his skin furiously as acidic bile came up in his throat. 

I will be okay. I will be okay. Xante chanted as he sobbed in the silence of his dark bedroom. He just had to stay awake.

He just had to hold on.

N O W

The car was silent as the two occupants focused their gaze on the busy road. They had no words to describe their overwhelming emotions in the present situation. The hounding paparazzi followed their car out of the courthouse, their bright lights flashing and their voices hoarse from screaming.

Chidinma tried not to show her emotions; it wouldn't do them any good. Their toxic situation was over and it was for the better.

Then, why was it so hard to let go?

"You know what you have to do, right?" She spoke calmly, and the purr of the car engine filled the silence that followed. The person seated next to her on her right took a breath and his toneless voice answered.

"I do. You have done your part, mio regina-"

Anger erupted at his audacity to utter that term of endearment, especially all that he had put her- put her child through. At once, without looking his way, Chidinma snapped coldly, voice firm and haughty; that of a snake about to snap, "Do not call me that. You lost that right the millisecond bullets started flying at my daughter."

Silence.

Was she being irrational? Absolutely not. 18 years ago, Chidinma made a promise to herself that marriage would never be her downfall. What she had not realized was that if she stayed tied to the man beside her, marriage would not only be the reason Chidinma fell, it would be the reason she was 6 feet underground. 

The bullet wound through her chest and back was proof enough.

Telling herself to calm down, she continued, "And once this is done-"

"Everything will be over. The both of you will be safe." The man replied, voice still emotionless. Silence overtook the car filling in his words, reinforcing what Chidinma already knew, but feared nonetheless:

Xante Deliano will not be.

poem by edmund spenser