The Mafia on 6th Street

Drunk Paradise

-Unedited-

Might I say that my stomach was full...satisfied....fed. A yawn escaped my mouth, as I noted the ultimate comfort on the backseats, I was sprawled on. "You can sleep," Oliver said, his eyes fixated on the road. Kevin on the other hand continued fiddling with the colored rubix cube.

The idea was unsettling at first because I was with strangers that I suddenly began trusting in only 25 minutes after them feeding me some pizza and garlic bread, with the luxury of grape juice.

A yawn escapes my mouth as my eyelids droop a bit. "Yeah, wake me up if anything... Whatever."

That's how I welcomed sleep for the first time in 24 hours.

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3rd POV
Damien's Personal Villa
Amalfi Coast, Italy
5 hours ago...

Tsk....Tsk....Tsk.......Tsk

He hurled another poor vase against the wall. He collapsed onto his raven leather chair, a groan emptying out his mouth.

Vincent sat by the door waiting for Damien's comply of orders.

"We tried everything."

Silence.

"We need you to order us. Your men are waiting."

Vincent's collected fume-ness, was releasing second by second. Damien's irrational thinking had led them to this situation.

It was way to early to show Angelina what he did in reality. But in mere seconds he dragged her to a warehouse and showed her the exhibition of his torturing devices used on a man that was originally hanged like when a man was going to be crucified.

He silently moved his hand in sync of a cross over his chest. God forbid ever witnessing such mockery...

Vincent couldn't handle it anymore, his silence was a dangerous thing itself. He abruptly stood up. "Fine, stay here and cry like a little goat you are. I'm going to find her and order the men if you are incapable of communication."

Just before Vincent stalked away, Damien's lips parted. "We have 48 hours until they..."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "I'll kill them all if I have too." With that, he carries himself downstairs, collecting his wallet, car keys, and a change of clothes. He glances at the men standing. Luca was nowhere in sight. Anger boiled from within Vincent, when the thought of the repetitive occurrences happening; Luca was always on special missions and assignments for Damien that he had no clue about. It had always been Vincent being the right hand of Damien, but these past weeks, Damien had been pushing him away despise them being siblings.

Screw his demented being... Vincent thought. Suddenly, Luca bluntly enters the front door.

"Buon pomeriggio," He mumbled optimistically, closing the door shut. His eyes suddenly catch the formality happening between the men. (Good Afternoon)

"What is wrong?"

Vincent replies. "Haven't you heard?"

"No."

Vincent inwardly groaned, thinking the whole time Luca had been on with a plan that Damien had commanded, to find Angelina.

"The girl, Angela, escaped."

Luca paused intently staring at Vincent. "Shut up."

"No, I am serious. Boss, is sitting there like a moody cow." Vincent replies studying Luca's face.