Morituro - Book 1

14

| CHAPTER FOURTEEN |

Raphael

THERE'S A LOT I should be grateful for. I'm rich, feared, and handsome. Women flock to me like a moth to a flame and while I give them what they want for a night, I don't have to justify my actions when I leave in the morning. I could spend a million dollars right now and not leave a dent in my vast bank account. All I have to do is say my name and I get whatever I want, whenever. The words won't ever be heard coming out of my mouth, but I'm bored.

As a young child, I was sheltered. I was homeschooled by a family friend, never had any classmates or other kids to play with. On the Sicilian farm, my friends were the pigs and horses. My father never let me venture into town, too afraid of the Don living on top of the hill in the city and his army of idiotas.

Yes, I was born into the mafia but was never mafia royalty. I took the crown myself, putting the family name on a pedestal and encasing it with thorns. Back then, Salvatore family was nothing but a lineage of farmers. But today, we're a lineage of Mafia Kings.

I worked hard to get where I am today. I worked to the bone, painted walls with blood, and made many sacrifices. There has never been a point in my life where I could truly say I was relaxed. If it's not one thing it's another, but superficial and material things are never far from my reach.

It's because of that, that I am so bored.

I hear about many peoples problems each day. I am a Godfather to many, after all. I hear many stories of what men have gone through to what they want, from extortion to addiction - vengeance to happiness. I provide my help with a price, loyalty and service. And when they break our verbal contract, my beast reveals itself.

In the mafia only so many people can survive. The ones who don't already have a natural craving for what lurks in the dark and aren't comfortable living in the dark, they never make it.

My beast loves the chaos, the twist and turns, the madness. It keeps me sane. The rush I get when my beast quenches the thirst of my bloodlust, is like heroin.

But lately, I haven't been needing my drug as much as I once did. It's all because of her.

Layla, mio fiore.

Her hair, so silky and soft like the petals of a precious flower. Her eyes, as brown and beautiful as a coffee bean. Her body, oh how much I want to explore her temple with my mouth.

She's delicate but her spine is still as strong as steel. Something I very much admire, and am also curious about. How far can I push her? How far can I take her before she snaps?

There's a part of me that craves to know the answer. I want to push her as far into the darkness that I can until her body turns from that delicious caramel to black. I want to consume her, I want her to be mine.

The more rational side of me knows that if I did so, I could lose her forever. She wouldn't be Layla, she would be Layla Salvatore taken over by evil and sin. She would be just like the other girls in the famiglia.

Which is part of the reason I gave her the ultimatum. As much as I want her to be consumed - by me, I know she wouldn't be her if she wasn't free.

Mio uccellino.

I knew from the moment she gave me sass in my office, the day I almost rearranged Will's face, that Layla was special. I want to treat her as such.