Alarico Este had everything a man could ever wish for. A beautiful wife, money and most importantly power.
However what would happen if he lost all he held pride in in a single instant?
What if those beneath him, were suddenly above him instead?
R...
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"Quit talking such nonsense. I would be a fool if I believed a single word that left those cursed lips of yours, son of a bitch." Alarico boiled with anger, his dark eyes sparked with fury and his voice was gruff and nauseated. He felt his muscles twitching and as if his whole body had been run over by a truck. He would for sure enjoy punching this carnivorous grin out of the dun face of his manservant.
Right now, however, it took an almost risible amount of strength to in- and exhale steadily and sufficiently. What in the bloody hell did this scabious Bagnaletto pour into his fucking drink? He wasn't a, ready to be raped, 20-year-old hooker for god's sake.
His whole memory was blurry and muddled. Almost like it was located behind a thick wall of glass enabling him to recognize its shadowy silhouettes without actually grasping them. They all sparked a similar emotion within Alarico though. Hate.
He was full of rage. Not rarely had he been called hot-headed, barbaric or bloody-minded. Alarico Este was indeed no man one needed a deep analysis of character of or a psychology degree to understand his motives. Several of his features were rather animalistic after the lack of motherly love prevented the difficult boy from flourishing. Salvatore Este had not been a loving father and even less an appropriate role model. He was unable to recognize his son's mental issues in time before they could consume his whole being.
Therefore, it was no wonder that Salvatore had chosen Lorenzo Este as his successor, not minding the order of births of his two sons. But never would Alarico's narcissistic and egocentric worldview lead to this realization.
In this very second his whole existence was blinded by rash, consuming rage. He was furious with Salvatore, with Serena, with Benito and - most of all - with Lorenzo. He was furious with the whole family Este who seemed to tolerate this injustice and the obvious mistake of their senile Don without further comment.
However, it was the rage that drove him. Determined he swallowed the feeling of nausea that flooded his body like a wave and rose in one surprisingly elegant movement. Before the smirking servant was able to react Alaric's fist had already hit him hard right into his mocking face. With a yucky crack the roman nose retreaded under the weight of his punch. Immediately blood ran over the alabsta-coloured skin and Benito howled with pain.
Briefly, Alarico had to recollect himself to hinder himself from throwing up while continuing to stand firmly in front of Benito. He expected the returning punch at every second but to his wonder the black-haired simply laughed. The smile on his bloody lips and teeth was grotesque and diabolical.
Alarico growled. "Sei una minghia secca. I'm going to kill you, you fucking, useless prat. Just you wait till I tell the family what you have done, fuckturd. For this you're going to die slowly and painfully, I'm going to ensure that with the greatest pleasure."
Again, the manservant only laughed, to Alaric's disapproval.
"Salvatore is death, Tesoro. They believe that you've murdered him. As soon as you return, you're going to be the one that dies painfully." His voice was amused and frolicking, green eyes twinkling.
