Heirs

FIFTEEN

Saint's POV

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I felt like I waited for hours on her to get back.

I didn't have feelings for Aria, I would never say something like that. I would be lying if I say I haven't grown to like being around her, though. Aria and her friends have always been the loud, wild, troublemakers. Sure there's never any evidence, but everyone knows it's them. I always thought Aria was the bitchiest of the group. I still think she is, I've just come to learn that it suits her.

She's also different when she's by herself. She's still wild and crazy, but she tones it down from an eleven to an eight. She jokes around, comes up with creative pranks. Hell, some of them are so creative they scare me. Normally after I hook up with a girl, I'm walking out of the door before they're even dressed. With her though, I keep finding myself wanting to stay.

I know it sounds cheesy and stupid, but I like sleeping with her. Fucking her? Definitely, but also just sleeping. I like how she curls into me as she doses off, like she wants me to protect her. One night, I was up thinking and she started talking in her sleep. I couldn't help but talk back, just to see what goes through her mind at night. I sat there for almost thirty minutes, listening to her explain why grasshoppers should be able to drive cars.

I waited until almost midnight to hear from Aria. I knew she had to be back by now. Even if her parents were pissed off at her, they wouldn't pull her out of school. I decided to just go to her dorm room and see if she was back yet, but I stopped when I opened my door. My hoodie was folded right in front of it, the one I had given to her. A bright pink sticky note laid on top of it.

"Fuck you"

What the fuck?

We were fine until she left, which only meant one thing.

Those fucking Italians.

Something must've been said over their dinner that made her angry with me, with my family. They always act so fucking entitled because they're in the top four, like the Americans aren't as well. I knew there was a reason I didn't want her to go tonight. Deep down, I knew it would fuck everything up. 

Being around your family, especially families that are a powerhouse for their nations, it comes with a sense of pride. A sense of pride that could easily be lost with the slightest missteps. Sometimes, our pride is hurt by ourselves, knowing we did something we shouldn't. When our families get involved, it's much worse.

I remember the first time I brought a girl home. I was fifteen and had met her in Brazil. I thought I was head over heels for her, that it would be worth bringing her into this life. My father though, he thought I was a disgrace. He told me if I wasn't going to marry someone from our world, the least I could do was marry someone from our country. Since then, I've vowed to never be with anyone. If I marry someone from our world or country, then I'm just some little bitch following his rules. If I don't though, then I'll have to face the shame of disappointing my father and disgracing my family.

My father and I have never gotten along. It wasn't because he was necessarily a cruel man or that he beat me, he just never cared to be a father. My parents had their first kid when they were still kids themselves. Instead of holding his new born son, he was busy with work. I was born a few years after the war between our parents ended, but the American mafia was still working hard to keep up and maintain their rankings. My father is always worried about the mafia and how we are viewed by others. Like I said, one misstep and I could lose my title, hell maybe even my life. 

I didn't like him, but at the end of the day he was still my father. No matter how much I hated it, I would do anything to earn his praise. Maybe it's an heir thing, maybe it's a kid thing. I don't know but, at the moment, I didn't care. I was so angered that I did the one thing I could think of, earning me both praise and revenge.