《Daniel Nicholas Castello》

"When will you take Nico for a haircut, Elena?" Nonna asked Mamma.

Mamma groaned in response. "He doesn't need a haircut yet, Mamma."

"The boy can barely see through the mop of hair covering his eyes. Of course, he needs a haircut."

"Why do you call me 'Nico', Nonna? My name is Daniel." I asked Nonna.

She brushed my hair off my face, giving Mamma a patronising look. Mamma rolled her eyes. "I call you Nico, caro mio because Nico was my brother's name. And that's who you were named after."

"Where is your brother now, Nonna?"

She smiled sadly. "He's sleeping with the angels now." Mamma snorted at this, and Nonna gave her a glare. She then looked at me again and kissed the top of my head. "Wear his name proudly, Nico. He was one of the best men I knew."

-

I surprised myself when I told Arabella my name was Nico. I haven't heard that name in 15 years. Only Nonna used to call me that, and after she passed, the name was forgotten by everyone but me. I had promised Nonna I'd wear her brother's name proudly. Though I later found out that Nonna was slightly delusional, and her brother wasn't a good man- he was the worst Cosa Nostra had to offer.

But the name still reminds me of innocence, as did Arabella. So I gave her that instead of Daniel.

I close my eyes and sigh. Jesus, I really need to stop thinking about that girl. But I know I won't stop thinking about her- not until I fuck her at least once. That poses its own dilemma because I'm so turned on by her, not having even touched her; if I ever sleep with her- I'll probably be addicted to her. And then I'll do whatever it takes to keep her, probably destroying both of us.

I pour myself some vodka into my coffee. That ought to help things.

I need to find out who she is; now that I have her name, it will make it so much easier.

"You're a fucking asshole," Francis seethes as soon as he comes in, his eyes dark with rage.

I sigh in exasperation. What will it take for my family to give me some space?

"How have I managed to offend you today, Francesco?" I ask him, patronising.

He looks at me blankly before picking up a butter knife from the countertop and throwing it at me. Knowing what he was about before he did it, I dodge the knife. As surprising as it may seem to other people, we've thrown slightly dangerous objects at each other many times when we're annoyed at each other- much to Mamma's chagrin. And Mamma doesn't even know half of what we have done to each other.

I lean back in my chair and look at him mockingly. "I see your aim has improved since last time, brother."

Francis gives me a look that makes me think he wants to throw a sharper knife at me, but then he closes his eyes and sighs.

"Why?" He asks tiredly, as if he's done with my shit, and in all honesty, I'm surprised it took him this long. He usually calls me out on my behaviour sooner.

"I don't understand what you mean," I reply nonchalantly, taking a bite of a brioche.

I know exactly what he means, but that doesn't mean I will answer him.

Francis sighs, now looking more tired than angry. "Why are you acting so closed off again? Do you know how sad Mamma was yesterday when you left the office because you knew she'd be coming? She thinks it's her fault because this time, nothing happened to trigger your emotional withdrawal. She then-"

"Or it might just be because I'm an adult and do not want to open up and cry to my parents every time something bad happens in my life," I say, interrupting him.

He narrows his eyes at me. "Mamma's hurting. You may be an asshole, but I know you'd never let Mamma hurt intentionally."

"Or maybe, just maybe, not everyone can be as perfect and selfless as you and actually want to do something without giving a damn about who gets hurt in the process," I huff.

Francis glares at me. "What the fuck happened, Ace?"

"I am taking over from Nonno in less than a year."

Francis blinks in shock. "I thought you had more time."

"I do not. That's why I've been so distant. As soon as I take over, it will be a million times harder to hide that part of my life from Mamma, so I won't be able to talk to her as much then. She should get used to it from now."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I did not know how you would feel about it, so I wanted to put it off for as long as possible."

Francis tilts his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't want you to resent me for getting everything even though you deserve it more than me."

Francis glares at me and then throws another knife at me. "Are you fucking serious, asshole? Why would I resent you? You've worked for everything you've ever gotten in life. Papà knew that you could manage the company better than I ever could because you've always worked twice as hard as me. Nonno knew you were his successor because you have a way of controlling the most dangerous people on the planet that I couldn't even learn if I tried to. You deserve everything, and as your brother, no one, and I mean no one, could be prouder of you than I am."

I give him a small smile. "Thanks, asshole."

"I'm going to throw another knife at you," Francis warns, but he's smiling, so I know he's not serious.

"What the fuck is that?" He asks me, motioning to the cup in my hand that he seems to have finally noticed.

Oh, fuck me. I do not want another lecture from him.

"Nothing", I reply, to which he raises his eyebrow.

He crosses over to me, snatches the cup from my hand and smells it.

I sigh in exasperation. Jesus, here we go again.

He hits the back of my head. "What the fuck! Daniel, it's eight in the morning, and you're already drinking?"

I, being me, go into defensive mode and glare at him. "So fucking what?"

"So fucking what? I don't want to lose my brother again. You know how you get when you drink too much. You become someone I don't recognise."

"I know. I'm going to stop drinking now. I was just drinking because I didn't want to deal with everything. Now, I have no reason to."

"So you promise me this isn't going to be a problem?"

I understand why he would think that. I have a past with alcohol- specifically drinking too much of it. I haven't ever been addicted- I could never allow something to have that much control over me, but I have abused alcohol. And as much as I don't want to deal with everything, I know I can't drink anymore.

"Yes, I promise, Mother," I deadpan, and he hits the back of my head again, making me smile.

"I fucking hate you," he replies, then pours himself a drink. Who is early-morning drinking now?

"Sure."

He shakes his head and then smiles at me. "Now that you seem to be in a semi-good mood. I should inform you that Mamma told me that you must come home for lunch today."

I sigh in defeat. Mamma never gives up, does she?

"Are you coming?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I am."

Of course, he is.

"I am busy. I cannot come."

Francis punches me on my shoulder, making me glare at him.

"Mamma said that if you disagree, I must drag you there. And you told me you've dealt with all the shit that's happening, so just come and see her. She's been crying every day because she thinks you hate her."

"I do not hate her."

"Then come home and tell her."

"Fine," I mutter. "Are we going together?"

Francis shakes his head. "No, I have to go somewhere right now."

I raise my eyebrow. "Where?"

"I'm helping organise a clothing drive for the homeless."

I smile almost bitterly. Stella had it all wrong. I can never be anyone's fairy tale prince, but Francis can. He the opposite of me in every possible way. He is the day while I am the night. He is the angel while I am the devil.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Just thinking about how different twins can be."

He smiles slightly and then looks at the floor. "When did you last visit the cemetery?" He asks me while running his hand through his hair.

I freeze. "Are you going to her grave?"

Francis purses his lips, then shakes his head. "Not today, but I'm thinking of it. I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

I look at my uneaten brioche. It does not look appetising anymore, but I do not like wasting food, so I start eating. "Sure, I have not visited her in a while either."

"What about Damien?"

I close my eyes and sigh. Damien Knight was my childhood best friend and the only person who ever understood me. He was murdered three years ago by the man I hate most in the world.

"Visited him the other day."

Francis smiles sadly at me, finishes his drink, and then gets up.

"Goodbye, asshole," he says before leaving the room.

-

"Hi, Mamma," I say as I enter the kitchen.

Mamma turns around and glares at me, and I internally prepare myself for her wrath.

"Hi, Mamma," she repeats, mocking me. "You don't visit or talk to me for almost three months, and even now, when I practically have to force you to come here, the only thing you say is 'hi, Mamma'!" She huffs, then turns around again.

I run my hand through my hair. This is the first moment in three months that I realise just how much I've hurt Mamma. Her eyes looked so glassy even when she was glaring at me- like she was going to cry. Suddenly I am scared for her- about what she will do next year when she will barely ever have contact with me.

"I was busy," I say, but she ignores me. I walk to her and hug her. "Mamma, please. I promise I will never try to avoid you again. I just... needed some time."

"I understand you needed time, but you didn't even drop me a text telling me anything. You completely cut me off. Did I do something wrong?" Her voice breaks when she says that, and I hug her again.

"Of course not, Mamma. Please never think like that. I was just dealing with something I didn't want anyone to know about, and I knew you would. That doesn't explain my behaviour but just know you did not do anything. This was all me. "

"Do you want to talk about it now?" Mum asks me, looking worried.

"No," I reply, shaking my head. "I have already dealt with it. It's over."

Mamma smiles softly. "I'm glad you're okay now. Just tell me when you need time and space next time."

I nod, then hug her again. I really missed her.

"Where's Teresa?" I ask Mamma, and she smiles. Teresa Celeste is my baby sister. She was born almost two years before Amara passed away, so she's just eight. That doesn't make her a baby, but she is so much younger than us that we consider her one.

"I think she's bossing around your papà right now," she replies, making me smile.

"I will go check on them," I say as I walk out of the kitchen.

I look around the house, but Teresa and Papà are nowhere to be found, so I decide to check outside.

"No, that one is prettier!" I hear Teresa retort when I walk into the greenhouse.

Papà groans as he runs his hand down his face.

"No, it isn't!" He argues back, making me smile.

I walk around until I find them. When Teresa looks at me, her pout turns into a smile.

"Danny!" She shouts as she runs toward me. I bend down to her height and hug her.

"How's my princess?" I ask her, smiling.

"I missed you so much," she says, hugging me again.

"I missed you too," I say, kissing her cheek, and then I look at my father. "Papà."

"Daniel," He replies, smiling at me. "Did you meet Elena?"

"Yeah," I laugh, shaking my head. "She was a bit mad at first, but now she's fine."

Papà shakes his head and smiles. He already knew that Mamma wouldn't remain mad at me for too long because that's just the way she is- quick to anger and quick to forgive.

"Where's Francis?" Papà asks. "I thought he was coming with you."

I roll my eyes. "He's doing some charity shit."

"You said a bad word!" Teresa accuses me before Papà can criticise my choice of wording.

"I did not. 'Shit' isn't a bad word."

"So, I can say it?" She retorts, raising an eyebrow. I curse in Italian- knowing she doesn't know curse words in Italian yet. "I may not know what you said, but I know you swore."

"You're too smart for your own good," I mutter, and she beams.

"Like you!"

I can't help but smile. "That's right. Now, come on, let's help Mamma with lunch."

She gives me a blank stare. "I'm eight, not stupid. You haven't gotten your punishment for swearing yet."

"How about we let it go this time?"

"We can if you want Mamma to know you swore in front of me," She tells me, and I sigh. She's turning into a mini-me. I glance at Papà to see him smiling in amusement. I narrow my eyes at him. He's enjoying this. Of course, he is. I always made him do or give me the most ridiculous things when he swore in front of me when I was younger.

"How much do you want?" I sigh, finally giving in.

"Five hundred."

"No," Papà finally intervenes. "That's too much."

It's really not. Papà may not know it, but Nonna once gave me two thousand dollars for swearing. But that was after I had made a compelling case about why she should.

Teresa turns to look at him. "He swore in English and Italian. He deserves it."

Papà looks at me and shrugs. Of course, he gave in so soon. He would probably give Teresa the moon if she asked for it. So would I, if I am being honest.

Teresa turns around to look at me again and holds out her hand. I take out my wallet and hand the money to her.

"Thanks, Danny."

I narrow my eyes at her. "You are not welcome."

"Let's go and help your Mamma," Papà says as he walks towards the house.

-

"Please, Mamma," Francis begs Mamma for a cookie as we enter the kitchen.

"After dinner," Mamma replies sternly as if she's talking to an eight-year-old instead of a twenty-three-year-old.

"If you love me, then you'll give me a cookie right now," Francis says, stomping his foot on the ground.

Mamma turns around and looks at him blankly. "Fine," she says, making Francis smile. "Then I don't love you."

Francis gasps dramatically. "You just broke my heart, Mamma."

"Mamma, please give him a cookie," Teresa says, walking towards Francis and hugging him.

Mamma shakes her head and continues working.

"Please," Teresa begs. "If you do, I'll do anything you say for a week without arguing."

I smile at her offer. That's my girl! She knows how to get what she wants when she wants it.

Mamma looks at Teresa, considering her offer, and then hands Francis a cookie. Francis looks down at Teresa, high-fives her, and gives her half his cookie.

"You always were my favourite," he says to Teresa.

"You're my favourite too," Teresa says, making Francis smirk at me. I roll my eyes. She is only saying he's her favourite right now because he just gave her a cookie.

"Do you need any help?" I ask Mamma, ignoring Francis.

Even though we have help in the house, Mamma prefers to cook food herself. Once or twice a month, we have a family lunch, when all the staff is excused. We do everything ourselves, including washing the dishes, which I still don't understand.

"No," Mamma says, shaking her head. "Just take all the dishes to the patio, and set them up properly on the table." She says, emphasising the word properly because she knows how messy and disorganised we are.

-

I do not know what it is about the night sky that inspires such calm thoughts. It may be that darkness symbolises an amount of death, destruction and evil which even I have not yet reached, and I think that's what calms my soul- that I am not yet the epitome of evil. It could also be the stars and moon which stimulate calmness in me. The stars and moon symbolise good for me. They make me believe that if these tiny specks can shine so bright in the vast night sky, there is hope for me- that I am not entirely a lost cause. But in reality, it is naive of me to think that way. I have been a lost cause since I was eleven.

"It's just so like you to have such brilliant ideas as to take a midnight swim and stare at the sky like it's a movie right after a bloody thunderstorm," Francis says as he walks out of the house. I would, under normal circumstances, reply to him, but I'm too much at peace now to disturb myself for something as little as a comeback that will be forgotten soon. "You do realise that the pool was probably dirty, right?"

I shrug nonchalantly as I get out of the pool and sit on its edge. "Like I give a damn. You also seem to be forgetting that the storm didn't just end. It ended more than nine hours ago, so Mamma already had the pool cleaned."

Francis sits beside me. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing in particular."

He laughs shortly. "Yes, the expression on your face seemed to be of someone who wasn't thinking anything. Since when did you get so bad at lying?"

"I was not really lying. I was just thinking about so many things that I wasn't thinking about anything in particular," I reply, and Francis rolls his eyes.

"Clever," he replies sarcastically, and I resist the childish urge to push him into the pool.

"May I ask why are you not asleep yet?" I ask him. "It's nearly morning."

"Says the hypocrite. May I ask when you last slept?" He replies cheekily.

I flex my hands and then rest them at the edge of the pool before the urge to push my twin into the pool becomes too hard to resist. "Francesco, I think I should warn you that I am dangerously close to pushing you inside the pool, so you would do well to not piss me off further."

He laughs. "Do you really think I didn't know that? I think you forget that I've known you for 23 years. Almost 24 if you count the time in the womb."

I roll my eyes. "Let's not. Why are you still up?"

"I was studying."

"I thought your semester was over."

"It is, but that doesn't mean I don't have to study anymore. Honestly, I'm rethinking my decision about becoming a lawyer."

I look at him for the first time. I notice how exhausted he looks. "Why?"

He shrugs. "I'm going to be on the other side of the law all my life, so what's the point in becoming a lawyer?"

"Because that will give you a shot at having a normal life."

Francis huffs. "There isn't a thing such as a normal life for people like us."

"I will let you leave next year if you want to."

"As much I appreciate you saying that you and I both know you can't do that."

He's right, as much as I would like to believe he wasn't. There's no way for a Made Man to leave the Cosa Nostra unless death counts. Letting Francis walk out when I become the Don would cause a revolt.

"Speaking of, did you and Calos find Marcello's shipment?" Francis asks me, and I nod. Lucien Marcello is a boss of a French Mob. He's also one of the few people I hate most. If it weren't for him kidnapping me as a child, I would not have been the person I am today. My best friend would still be alive if it weren't for him. "What was in it?"

"People," I reply, my jaw clenching. I have done many bad things, but human trafficking is one of the few things I know I would never do. But what else can be expected from Marcello? He kidnapped a nine-year-old, tortured him and turned him into the worst kind of monster there is.

"Hasn't he retaliated yet?"

"No. I know he is going to, which is why I told Calos to be on high alert. Nonno and Lorenzo told me they caught some of his men trying to get the shipment back. They were, of course, killed, giving Marcello more reason to strike back."

Francis shakes his head and then removes a cigarette box from his hoodie pocket.

I raise my eyebrow. "Didn't you quit?"

"After the months I've had, I have decided that a cigarette or two a day wouldn't be the worst thing."

He takes one out of the box and is about to put it back in his pocket when I snatch the box from him and take one out too.

"Do you have a lighter?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

He stares at me blankly.

"No, Daniel, I came out here to smoke without a bloody lighter because I assumed that my hotness would be enough to light a bloody cigarette," he replies sarcastically, and I give him a disapproving look.

I'm really not in a mood for his sass.

Francis rolls his eyes. "You need to lighten up," he says with a silly smirk on his face as he takes out a lighter and hands it to me.

"Ha-ha, you're so bloody hilarious that I'm dying from laughter," I reply with a straight face, and he rolls his eyes, smiling.

"You're an asshole," he replies.

So I've been told plenty of times today.

I place a cigarette between my lips, light it and inhale. The chemicals entering my body make my mind relax even more.

"How do you think he's going to strike back?"

"Probably by doing something fucked up. After all, that's his modus operandi."

"Does Jax know?"

I nod. Vincente called his son and told him immediately after finding out what was in the shipment. "He already has a security detail on him."

"What about his sister?"

"Probably has one too. Vincente won't let anything happen to his favourite child."

Francis smiles. "I know everyone in the Cosa Nostra thinks that Vincente favours Selena, but it didn't seem like it when we went to dinner the other day."

"He really loves her. I've seen it."

"I guess some parents show affection to their children in ways that are a bit peculiar."

"I guess... Is she as gorgeous as I've heard?"

Francis nods. "She is. But there's something else about her, I can't explain it. It just draws you in."

"Don't tell me you like this girl."

Francis rolls his eyes. "Of course, I don't. She is my best friend's little sister. It was just an observation."

"If that's the case, maybe I should ask Vincente to introduce us."

Francis raises his eyebrow. "How are you suddenly interested in her?"

"I'm not. I just need to take my mind off a girl I met, and the best way to do that is Vincente's daughter."

Francis shakes his head disapprovingly. "I know you'll probably not listen to me, but don't do it. She's a sweet and innocent girl; let her stay that way."

"In our world, innocence is meant to be destroyed."

"Vincente and Jax will kill you if you hurt her."

"I'm not going to hurt her. My only intention is to fuck her."

"She's not the sort of girl you fuck and walk away from."

I raise my eyebrow. "Then what kind of girl is she like?"

"The one who unknowingly steals your heart and breaks it."

-

By the time I decide to head back into the house, it is already dawn. Francis left a short while after our conversation about Selena Calos, leaving me ample time to debate over the pros and cons of pursuing her. I still haven't decided. She may be just what I need to get Arabella out of my mind, but I don't want to get pulled into any drama with Vincente. He's a good acquaintance, and no fuck is worth losing a good acquaintance for. Not even one with a girl as hot as she supposedly is.

I can always sign a contract for her- a marriage contract. But I'm not ready to be married yet.

As I enter the dark house, I send a quick text to Rafael, wanting to talk to him about some trouble my men had run into in his territory.

Mamma made me promise to stay at home for a couple of days. As much as I did not want to, I did not want to anger her again.

A feeling that something is not right suddenly overcomes me, and I freeze. The sound of a loud crash from upstairs only confirms my suspicion.

I should have known something was wrong as soon as I sensed movement upstairs. But I just assumed that it was my parents. But now I'm pretty sure it is not them. I pull out my gun, send a quick text to Stefan about needing back up and hurry to the sitting room, where the crash came. I keep my footsteps as light as possible so as not to alert intruders of my presence.

I take a quick peek inside the room and take a sharp breath.

No, this can't happen. Not again. This should not be possible. I have taken every security measure to ensure it. My men are surrounding the house; no one could have gotten in.

Yet here he is.

And since he is here, that means someone betrayed me, and they will pay in blood for it.

"I know you're there," the man in the centre of the room says. I walk into the room, keeping my guns aimed at the man I loathe with everything in me- Lucien Marcello. "Hello, Daniel. It's wonderful to see you again," he greets us with a perverse smile.

The room is filled with his men, one of whom has a gun aimed at Teresa. That man would have been long dead if I weren't so vastly outnumbered.

Thankfully, Teresa's still asleep; otherwise, she would never be able to get over this. I should know. I was a little older than she is when Lucien Marcello kidnapped me for the first time, which changed me forever.

Jesus. I hate him so fucking much. He kidnapped and tortured me. He killed Damien and his whole family. And so there is nothing in this world that won't stop me from killing him if I have the chance. If anyone deserves to die- he does.

"What the fuck do you want?" I growl at him, and he has the audacity to laugh.

"You can act all brave and powerful, but I know that you are still the weak little coward you were all those years ago," Lucien says in an attempt to taunt me.

I glance at Teresa for a second, to remind myself that I cannot kill him because of her, before looking at him again. "It's funny that you call me a coward when it's you who hurts innocent children in an attempt to gain more power."

"That's not being a coward, boy; that is being ambitious- doing whatever you can to take what you want," he replies. "That's why I killed your little friend and his family. They were good friends of mine once, but they had these foolish morals that made them a hindrance in my way. So I just decided to remove them."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask Lucien.

Lucien looks surprised that I did not retaliate and then glares at me. "You stole what was mine, then killed my men and have the audacity to ask me what I am doing here?"

"Those people were never your property."

"Don't you dare tell me what's mine and what's not, boy!" Lucien seethes.

"Do you realise that I will never give them back to you? Even if it means that I die," I tell him.

"Well, then there's always your sister to hurt to convince your grandfather."

"Say that again, and I will fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!" I seethe then aim my gun at his head.

He laughs heartily as if he's enjoying this. He probably is. The man is a fucking psychopath. Other's pain and suffering bring him pleasure.

"If you kill me, then my men will kill your sister," he states in a matter-of-fact tone.

Does he think that I don't know that already? Doesn't he know that the only reason why I haven't put him out of his miserable existence yet is because of my sister?

"Leave her out of this," I say.

"Do as I ask, and I will," Lucien replies.

"I'm not giving you those people," I reply.

"I know that. I still need leverage against your grandfather, so put your gun on the floor, and I will leave your sister out of this."

After some hesitation, I put my gun on the floor. Lucien signals for his men to come and restrain me. Then, he walks toward me and injects me with a clear liquid which makes me black out in less than a minute.

-

A/N

I'm supposed to be studying. I need to study but fucking hell I don't want. Actually, I want to, but it's my brain that doesn't and there is nothing I can do about it but comply. And that is ADHD for you. At least my ADHD. Everyone who has the disorder has different symptoms so I can't generalise.

I can't believe this is my sixth update less than two weeks. Hopefully it's a good one and you enjoyed it.

Also, forgive me if there are spelling mistakes or errors in this chapter. I'm writing on my phone with autocorrect turned off (because it's so annoying it makes me want to cry). I'll correct the mistakes once I edit this chapter.