ONGOING
{Book one in the 'Dark' Mafia Series.}
"Kill me," She rasped, her voice hoarse. It was confusing, she wanted this, she wanted me didn't she? What an actress she is. My laugh was now bitter. "That would be too easy," I smirked before releasin...
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"Fuck, he should have been here by now." Max swore and slammed his fist onto the wheel.
"Have some goddamn patience," Roman spoke calmly.
Max's head snapped so fast to his right, I reckoned I heard a cracking sound in his neck. His eyes bulged out of their sockets. Slowly his lips tugged at the corners with a notorious smirk sporting there.
"Thought you wouldn't come out of your 'buddha' phase." Max chuckled using his fingers to air quote buddha.
Roman shot him a glare that had 'don't you dare motherfucker,' written all over it.
"How many days has it been, huh? Two, three?" Max asked smugly, proceeding with his playfulness.
"Fuck you." roman cursed back.
"No thank you, I've got that covered." Max chuckled.
Roman grunted something, although not loud enough for anyone to hear. That was the thing about the two of them, they were constantly acting like school girls, quarreling over boys.
Max's the son of dad's business associate. His father got killed while protecting my father, leaving his 15-year-old hormonal son in my father's care. We practically grew up together.
Roman and Ivan were from the streets, the duo is walking trouble and always have been. They fled from human trafficking. That's when mama found them in a dark alleyway.
Beaten and bruised.
Hiding.
Barely surviving.
Mama was visiting an old friend of hers downtown when she saw two teenage boys hiding behind the garbage. She took them in. Papa was annoyed, pissed even. But somehow mama always found her own way to get through to papa's mind and heart.
That was my Mama and Papa. They had ruled their era like the fucking king and queen. Taking in stray kids, raising them as their own. Even when my bastard of a father made a shitty mistake, she never once hated him. Even when he hid it from her.
He's a good man, I'll give him that.
A good father.
But I won't ever be able to forgive him for what he did. I still sometimes can't wrap my head around that shit. Knowing he is my father. But we grew up together.
Fighting together.
Forgiving each other.
I met Phoenix on my eighteenth birthday. He was an underage waiter in one of our clubs, lads below eighteen weren't allowed in our clubs and he was one with a good fake identity. When papa did a background check on him, he found him still in school. When Phoenix was interrogated for it, all he said was he wanted to go to fucking Harvard. Papa being the sly fox he is, gave Phoenix what he wanted in exchange for his brain.
