His Feisty Mafia Princess

Not a Good Start

{ Judas }

Another day, another bullshit mafia party I have to attend to.

I maybe wouldn't hate them as much if it weren't for the fact that I have to attend these parties accompanied by my whole family; my parents and six of my brothers, which makes any party instantly lame and boring.

Ansel appears in front of me as I'm trying to do something about my appearance so I don't look like the most homeless brother of the bunch and he throws an empty gun to the floor next to me, probably breaking the floor of my room and, after yelling something that I don't even understand, he shoves me and rips the right sleeve of my jacket in a single yank.

My extremely expensive and delicate jacket, which my mother begged me to take care of.

Before I know it, I growl in an animalistic way full of rage and throw myself at him, knocking him to the floor with a loud, hollow sound and throwing my fists at his stomach and arms, but my twin is just as strong as I am so he stops me for a second and lifts his fist to punch me right on my cheek.

"Not the face!" I yell at him, hoping I won't get a bruise and I push his hands away. Ansel breaks free from me to push my chest with all his might and when I stagger back, he takes the opportunity to throw me to the floor. He sits on my tights to immobilize me and starts punching my ribs. I groan and try to get him off me, "She's going to kill me."

"This is so you don't mess with my stuff again," he growls, struggling as I try futilely to get out from under him. The worst part of all this is that I don't even know what I did to him, it's not like I need to take his guns when I have my own, "I could have f*****g died!"

"I don't give a s**t if you die or not,” I reply and effortlessly pull my arm out from under his hand.

Realizing it's the only thing I can do at this point, I bring my fist up to his face with everything I've got, not processing that I shouldn't do anything like this or it will go very badly for both of us.

"Not the face, you dumb son of a b***h!" he loudly yells at me, his face twisted into a grimace of pain. I burst out laughing as I see the red color growing all over the left side of his cheekbone and I prepare to punch him again, ignoring the pain in my hand.

"Son of a what?" demands a voice, soft and loud at the same time. And really angry, as usual. Ansel and I freeze and look into each other's eyes, equally frightened.

"Say it again, Ansel Benjamin Sinclair," she orders in a low, hard voice. "And get off the ground now."

I can safely say that in less than two seconds we're both standing firmly and rigidly in front of our mother, waiting for the punishment, waiting for the screams and waiting for whatever she wants to do to us.

At this point in my life, I suppose I shouldn't be so controlled by my mother, but we've never been a normal family so I won't compare myself to others. Also, she’s terrifying. I’ve seen her dismember someone before, she’s good at that.

"'Son of a... of, uh... I'm sorry, Mom," Ansel stammers, as he only does with her. I don't smile because I know a good scolding and surely that same humiliation awaits for me, too.

"No. Say it again."

"Son of a b***h,” he repeats, in a very, very low voice.

"Not a very smart thing to say to your own brother, is it? But you've never been very bright, so I'm not surprised,” she mutters, walking closer to us.

"You two are pulling on my last nerve,” My mother looks like an angel tonight. She's wearing a long white gown and her blond hair is curly and pretty, but she's still terrifying when she's angry because she is definitely not an angel.

"How many fist fights have you had this week alone? Huh? I know that stupid phrase your father says to you when we have something important and you feel the need to fight: ‘just not the face’ well I don't want you hitting each other at all! My children are not mindless animals or feral kids! You are brothers and I don't want you to keep fighting like that!"

I wonder how she expects us not to be wild and aggressive when she always yells at us like this, but I'd rather not mention it. She likes to pretend that she's a very nice, loving and normal mother. I would hate to be the one to tell her the truth and ruin that false image she has of herself.

"Mom..." I start to speak, unsure, "We weren't really fighting. It was... it was… we were just playing. It was just brotherly playing around."

"Brotherly?!" She yells at me, really loud, making me jump a little out of shock. She grabs Ansel's face and turns it towards me. His brown eyes unfortunately just like mine are wide open, his cheeks squashed under my mom's long red nails and his lips open as if he were a fish, "Look at this, i***t boy, this bruise was not made with brotherly love. We have a f*****g image to keep, we cannot be showing up everywhere bruised!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. But it was his fault, he... he tore my suit," I defend myself, showing her the sleeve hanging almost to my elbow. I assumed she had already noticed, but she gasps in horror and lets go of my brother's face abruptly to walk over to my arm and examine the obviously irreparable cut.

"THE PARTY STARTS IN HALF AN HOUR!" She shouts hysterically, making us both cringe. Any minute now the slapping will start, I can already feel it, "What am I supposed to do with you?!"

"Love and accept us?" Ansel asks. My mom just snorts.

"No. I don't know how you're going to do it, Judas Marcelino, but you have to find a decent jacket in half an hour," she orders, pointing a finger at me, and then turns to Ansel, "And you, you'd better control yourself with your brothers. And you'll both see later how you'll fare with your father."

She turns around after killing us with her eyes and walks away from us with her red bottoms echoing loudly throughout the house as she walks away. I'm just glad she didn't slap the s**t out of me this time.

"As long as you're ready, come to the living room for an emergency meeting!" she yells when she's out, like she forgot what she had come to tell us. Me and my brother look at each other with confusion, but just I shrug because I have no clue about what this meeting might be about.

Ansel leaves my room and I look for another fancy jacket to wear. It might not be as cool as the Ferragamo one she gave me, but it'll do.

I walk to the living room once I'm ready and everyone is there just waiting for me to start the meeting.

"Sebastian's cover in the US was blown and he was almost attacked at his office," my dad begins, surprising me. Just a very stupid individual would try to attack Dio, “He's currently arranging to return to Rome with Alessia before the threats become a reality."

"Does that mean the boss will be living here?" Kyle, my older brother, asks. "That's immediately going to ruffle some feathers. The situation in Rome may get even worse."

"It doesn't matter. Sebastian is sick of hiding, now he wants to fight back. He wants to find the people threatening Alessia and destroy them. He'll need all of our help so I need you to give everything you have to the business, okay? Stop all the nonsense distractions."

I take a deep breath and nod.

Sebastian Ferreira, better known as Dio, is the biggest mafia boss in Rome. He's in charge of most of Europe and he has some strong ties with the Mexican mafia as well. Everything that's happening in the city right now has something to do with him. And his presence in Rome means it's going to get even more dangerous out here.