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Post Malone ~ A Thousand Bad Times

I should have known it'd be those darn Americans. They know nothing about being loyal. You'd think after Adam's betrayal I would have learnt my lesson but I guess not.

Here I am fixing another rat problem.

Ahh.... My life.
Back to the matter at hand.

I untangle my legs and stand up straight to my full height, flexing my toes in my pointed black heels. I pull back my sleeve to take a look at my watch for the tenth time since this interrogation began.

My heels click against the tiled floor as I stalk with power and grace towards an almost lifeless Mateo. I look down at him and tut slowly.

"Remember this, you chose this path" I murmur loud enough for him to hear before walking away from him.

I get to the rusty old door, waiting for Butcher to open it for me. My heart softens at the gesture, only for people like him do my heart beat for, He holds a special place in my heart.

Right before I completely leave the forsaken kitchen, I glance back at Mateo then at Butcher.

"lock him up with Cerebrus. It's time they had a new chew toy" I order coldly.

Mateo's screams start afresh as he shakes violently in his chair. My index comes up to adjust my glasses and I stride out.

Walking down the hollow halls, I smile bitterly to myself.

I've been leading the mafia for five years now in the absence of my late Father, the ex-Don. Died in a car accident which I still strongly believe to be a setup from the enemy side but still haven't found who did it.

It's ironic how good I am at solving cases and sniffling out rats but for six good years, I still haven't gotten the enemies involved in my dad's death.

Anytime I feel like I'm getting close to a lead, something happens and everything is destroyed.

I'm not giving up and I know papa will be turning in his grave till those who were behind his demise are destroyed.

I walk out of the abandoned building with fast strides to my parked red Lamborghini Veneno. A birthday gift from uncle Max.

If there is one thing Uncle Max is very good at apart from business and management is buying expensive and exotic gifts for his Niece.

I take out my keys from my black Armani blazer pocket. Open the driver's door and slid into my posh black leather seat.
My baby roars to life, I take a swift drift into the main street and speed along the empty lane.

With the roof of my car open, the night wind breezes through my auburn curls, lifting my mood.

A smooth drive home.

The large white gates open automatically as I get closer to it. I drive into the estate, the paved path aligned with beach pebbles.

The water fountains gush down every corner I turned till I get to the garage where I parked my baby along with other expensive cars.

I pick my channel office bag from the passenger's seat and step out of the car. Staring at the all-white marble walls with tall glass windows with golden night light emitting from them. The mansion stood on a hill, surrounded by beautiful big trees, engulfed in the embrace of nature.

This has been my home for decades, a place where my world began, the only place I'm allowed to be real and vulnerable.

"Welcome home, Miss" Martha, the house keeper and my nanny welcomes me in with a warm smile, motioning to the other staff to take my bag, my blazer coat, and black pinstripe fedora.

I smile warmly at her in return and walk up the stairs to the Dinning hall.

The clattering of utensils and low chattering can echoes across the halls as I ascend the stairs but the moment I step into the scene, it becomes dead silent. They all turn their heads to watch me strut over to a seat and settle down.

After a few seconds of settling in my seat, I raise my head and stare right back at their faces, mirroring each expression they each send at me.

Gracie, my uncle's last born's face contorts into a look of disgust, she sneers at me and I sneer back.

Isabelle, the second born looks at me like it is her first time seeing me. I nod my head at her and she does the same.

Gloria, the first and eldest has a look of contempt on her face  but she tries to conceal it with a fake ass smile. A smile I don't even bother to replicate.

Melissa, my Uncle's wife, grins widely at me.

"I'm glad you could make it home for dinner," She announces too ecstatically for my liking but I smile back at her still.

I notice the absence of my uncle and my eyebrows furrows.

"where's Uncle?"

"Your uncle is running a bit late, he's been caught up with a certain issue" She explains and I nod my head in understanding.

Maids begin to serve dishes at my front, my tummy grumbles at the sight of Lobster Thermidor, and my tongue salivates at the oven-baked scent of cheese crust. Donald really gets me.

I dig in.

The stress of the day starts to roll off my shoulders the more I eat. Food brings me peace and fulfillment. Call me a foodie, I don't care.

At first, it is the odd scent of oak and sandalwood that makes me lift my head but what appears into the hall has me starstruck.

Walking alongside my uncle into the hall is a magnificent Greek god-looking man.

Tanned skin with tattoos poking out inquisitively from the collar of his dark blue three-piece suit. A mix of oval and oblong face shape, long Jet black curly hair that reached his neck, black arched bushy eyebrows, striking Cobalt blue eyes, thin pink lips with a chiseled jaw.

I gawk at this unholy-looking man. His strides oozed of power, dominance, and confidence.

Damnnn...

The way his lips moves as he mutters to my uncle almost makes me drool.

A loud clunk breaks me out of the trance and I immediately get a grip of myself before I get caught staring.

I look over to the clumsy idiot and just like I thought, it's Gracie.

Of course, I'm not the only one entranced by the beauty of the stranger that just walked in.

I don't know why but something tugs at my chest at the arrival of this man.

He screams danger.