Leader Of The Mafia {h.s}

74

Bree Tyler

Sip, sip, followed by a chug from the vodka bottle.

Bringing my lips close together around the tight brim or the glass bottle made me feel like home.

For some reason, I'm so stressed out. But, I don't know why. The only thing that makes me feel better when I'm sad is vodka or Harry.

But Harry isn't here right now.

Vodka it is, then.

Harry Styles

I took the polaroid.

The small photo of Bree's father and her mother resting in between my hands. Her father had so much fun that night, told me all about it.

It's a shame he didn't live to see another rock concert.

I crouched down by his grave, and handled with the dirt coming from the ground in my fingertips.

"I shouldn't have done it." I whispered, looking at the gravestone that shouldn't be Bree's father's.

Even though he threatened to kill off all my mafia members if I didn't kidnap Bree, he's still apart of my life. He was a good man, that was underestimated and brainwashed by the thought of an overruling power. Anything, he'd do anything to find his daughter again. But what he doesn't know, is that Bree is mine. He doesn't know her like I do, she's all mine to keep. If he would've survived that plane I hijacked, Bree wouldn't be at my house or love me. She would've been with her father if she complied to go with him that is.

So, I simply did the easiest way out into getting what I want.

I killed him.

Yep, that's right. Unbelievable? No, not necessarily. But, I hijacked that fucking plane he was on, Niall helped me out with it also. Fuck, Bree would be so pissed if she ever found out that me and Ni did that. And she's not going to find out about it, no way in hell.

"I shouldn't have done it." I repeated to the engraved gray stone dome with a sigh.

Who am I kidding? He's not going to listen. He fucking hates me, well everybody hates me and now I see why.

I don't stop until I get what I want, and I wanted her. She's the lady of my dreams. I shouldn't have to kill someone to have her. But, I'd kill the whole worlds population for her.

Anything for her.

I remember what Clinton always told me.

"If you aren't trying to do anything and everything for them, do you truly want them?"

His raspy voice rang through my head like an endless chant. Those were the words he scolded to me with before boarding that plane flight, and once he said those words.. I felt guilty for having already killed him and I had already hijacked the plane by cutting the wired circulation off of the rotating stick mid-air. So, I couldn't do anything about it now. But it's what he told me to do, right? Killing him was also apart of the "anything and everything."

In the beginning, I told Bree I was only possessive of her ass.

But the truth is.

I'm possessive of her.

Anything and everything about her is perfect, I needed her, Clinton. Don't you realize how perfect your daughter is? I couldn't let you just take her away from me, not that easily. You left her, and once she has someone you want her.

Pisses me off that guy sometimes.

I shakily put the polaroid down on the mount of dirt, and pulled the brittle daisy from my flower garden out of my back pocket. I cannot believe that I'm actually doing this. I rolled my eyes slightly, and lightly placed the torn daisy right next to the polaroid picture on the bed of mossy dirt.