Chapter 4: Nice Bitches

WARNING SIGNS:

LANGUAGE THAT IS UNAMBIGUOUS

CURSING

VIOLENCE, GUN VIOLENCE

SELF-INFLICTED HARM

BLOOD, DECEASE, and GORE

LUCA’s POV

When my parents set up a marriage for me, I wasn't shocked. It happens often.

My own parents' marriage was arranged, and they have remained together ever since. A marriage without love that lasts till death. What a terrible way to live.

Having to wed some woman made me really mad. And a fucking Italian woman to top it off. Italian girls are fine, but she's a member of the mafia. What would she even be like? My parents' marriage was completely loveless, would ours be the same?

I would simply put up with her and have my way with women behind her back. I didn't mind. She would undoubtedly behave in the same way.

Her name, appearance, or personality were never revealed to me. However, she was a woman.

The Don of the Italian mafia. How is that possible? Women are overly sentimental and feeble. She would be the mafia's downfall. I laughed at the thought of the most vicious and corrupt mafia in the world being brought to its knees by her.

Only a man, as everyone is aware, is capable of managing a mafia.

Maybe she was in charge because her father had no boys. However, he behaved very irresponsibly. I would have assumed that he would have given it to a man, though.

Regardless of whether he was related by blood or not.

I'm Luca Delgado, the head of the American mafia. At sixteen, I was given control of the mafia and tasked with making it the most powerful in the world. At the age of twenty six, my life now revolves around women, alcohol, and drugs. I didn't ignore my responsibilities in the mafia. I had a reputation for being harsh and unforgiving. The last thing you'd ever do is get in my way.

I'm still able to have fun despite that. The brunette was sleeping in my bed, so I looked over at her. I didn't even know her name. I didn't give a damn.

I might as well have some fun before I have to live a terrible, miserable life if I'm going to get married. Fuck damn!

My little brother barged into my bedroom without knocking and said, "You do know you are getting married right?" He gave me a bored glance.

What reason do I have to give a damn? This woman wasn't my choice; it wasn't like I wanted this, and as a mafia boss, I had a bad name to live up to.

As I rubbed my eyes, I frowned. I yelled at him, "Get out Nico," as his presence annoyed me.

Additionally, I wasn't allowed to choose my spouse, while he was.

Hell! would my parents even agree to this?

All because of some bullshit alliance. Fuck, If I wanted to, I could just defeat the Italian mafia.

Next to me on my bed, the woman moved and opened her dark eyes wide. Upon seeing Nico standing next to the doorway, she appeared frightened for a moment. She turned to me in the hopes of receiving some solace, but I was unable to provide any.

"Leave," Nico instructed, holding the door open with one hand. In her underwear, the woman hurried out of the room after collecting her clothing. While still ensnared in my bedsheets, I let out a moan. Nico generously pulled back the drapes, allowing the bright yellow light of the sun to potentially enter the space.

"Fucking hell." When the light struck my eyes, I let out a groan that brought me completely awake. Nico rolled his shoulders and rubbed his long chestnut hair while smiling.

He was a decent person, even if he was a damn fool half of the time. I let the ladies throw themselves at me since he was disgusted by it.

The way I utilized them for my own enjoyment and gain. Since my father treated my mother similarly, all I knew was that she portrays herself as the virgin mother Mary, but in fact, she is capable of competing with the devil.

Additionally, my dearest brother adhered to my example but was less outgoing.

"The Italian woman is arriving tomorrow, so clean up your act," Nico said, his lips twitching into a frown as he looked at my untidy bed. "Who even let you in?" I questioned, irritated with my lax security, as I rose up from my seat.

With both hands in his trouser pockets, he leaned against the wall and flashed his white teeth. "I'm a likeable person.

Anybody would let me in." He gave a little smile. His demeanor radiated friendliness, and that was indeed the case. A characteristic I lacked.

A mafia is not a place for weakness, after all. I don't have any, though.

After my ears bled from listening to Nico ramble on and on about being a good husband, I left the room a few minutes later. I changed into a sweatshirt and loose sweats after a short shower.

Before hitting the gym, I spent a little time on the treadmill, allowing my body to burn some energy. My house was large, five stories high, and had all I could ever want or need.

The privilege of leading a strong mafia gang. I labored diligently to achieve what I possessed, and no marriage would ever break that. No woman would ever ruin what I've created.

Dante inquired in a low tone, “How are you feeling about meeting the girl tomorrow?” with a very faint Italian accent. “I don't give a fuck,” I said without hesitation as I paused and turned to face my closest buddy and devoted protector. Why is she the subject of everyone's conversation?

Dante ran a hand through his curly black hair, his matching eyes gleaming, seeming almost let down. "Would you at least try, you might find that you like her." He uttered a sigh.

Perhaps he was aware of something that I wasn't. The water from the bottle cooled me down as I shook my head.

“Come on, you've known me all your life, that's twenty four damn years.” When do I ever like women?

They're just a nice bitches.