Alessandro 16+ / Book 1

Chapter 8: Breakfast

My breath quickens and my chest heaves with an accelerating rhythm, betraying the weight of my apprehension.

I stand still, filled with fear and curiosity, as my eyes lock onto two tall men in front of me, a wave of terror and dread rushing through me, blending with a desperate hope that what I'm witnessing could be a trick of my mind.

Sadly, the truth breaks through my fragile hopes because the scene unraveling before me is unquestionably real.

He is going to kill his father. My mind processes, a small gasp leaving my mouth, unable to do anything.

All this because of me?

"Do it. I fucking dare you! You are the atrocious fucking blood king and beast, Alessandro D'piero! I fucking dare you! But let me tell you, you have been nothing but a damn disgrace to this family legacy! You have the power, right? So I dare you, but remember, if it were not me, you would not have been where you are or WHAT YOU ARE!" His father roars with gritted teeth, glaring at his son with a look of irritation and fury that rages through his large body, hope, and expectance written on his wrinkled face. "I. Dare. You."

He willing to let his own son to take his life!

A gasp leaves my throat, knowing I have no doubt in that Alessandro, a man notorious in the world of mafias, holds this willingness inside him.

Known for his cold attitude and undeniable cruelty, he could kill his own father and then smoothly go back to his daily life as if nothing transpired.

To him, taking lives is a routine, an ordinary habit ingrained in his very existence.

A bitter, cold laugh leaves Alessandro's throat, his face carrying frustration and resentment.

"Do not fucking tempt me, father." He hisses ominously, his voice infused with his Italian accent, exuding a commanding aura that chills the air around us. "You know me well enough, as stated previously, so you know that I would not bluff-" death is written all over him, yet his body remains calm as a lamb.

"Alessandro!" Echoes a girl's voice, filled with terror, the words resonating with Italian accent as the rapid thud of footsteps grows nearer.

My gaze fixates on the captivating figure of a young girl hastening towards the center of the two towering men with panicked and worried look on her face, the impressive physiques of both men overshadowing her petite frame, making her appear diminutive in comparison.

"What are you doing?! We talked about this. Lower the pistol," she hisses, placing her hand on Alessandro's gun, lowering it, but it will not budge. "Now!" She yells strictly.

"Giana, step aside,"Alessandro says sharply, his body language showing he's confident and in charge. "I have no intention of causing you harm."

"Giana, get out the way. Your brother has thought about this moment for a while..." The father whispers, glaring at his son.

"You are damn right, father," he growls notoriously. "Countless times, I might thoroughly add."

Giana...his sister.

She is such a sweet looking little girl. Very much beautiful and looks a lot like her brother.

"Why is this even happening?" Giana whispers, looking at Alessandro with incredulity, shaking her head.

"Why was this happening, son?" His father repeats with sarcasm, coolly narrowing his eyes at Alessandro.

"I will retreat to my study, Giana," Alessandro's deep voice calmly asserts, his gaze narrowing before he strides away, his impeccable figure receding from view. "Adriana, it is expected that you join us at the dining table," he adds, his words tinged with a subtle command.