Sei Pazzo Novels & Stories

" I ignored him. Group chat. 'Same time next week.' I wanted to ignore that one, but I put a thumbs up emoji. I couldn't risk them releasing the video before my finals. My whole junior year would be a waste if that happened. Fu8ck them. I would give them no emotion. They would get nothing from me except what I decided to give them. If I had to have meaningless se8x to get through this, I would. But fu8ck them both. ----- ----- -----

Solana “Are you even hearing yourself out, Abel? I must obey you without question, because why? To massage your fragile ego? To make you feel superior? To fuel your arrogance and make you feel big? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to do that.” “Well, you have no choice, sunflower. You either heed my words and do things my way, or face the consequences. And I promise you, this time, it'll be triple times worse than what we did back in your bedroom earlier.”

There's no way I'm ever leaving with him again while he's angry. “I’m sick in the head, Keila,” Sebastian claims. It's the kind of tone that doesn't hold a single hint of disguise. A voice of despair. A voice of agony. It's not the same tone I used to hear every time he promises not to hurt me again, but a sincere despair. “I’m mentally unstable. Crazy…insane…demented. I'm sick in the head, Keila. I'm clinically diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Disorder. My whole family knows that, including Jordan. A sociopath you might want to call.”

Who am I kidding, they are all staring at me right now. ‘Hey! Don’t y’all know that it’s rude to stare?’ Okay, forget their manners, how come the only seat left is the one right next to Luciano? ‘Well, crap!’ Dinner’s going well, they're all speaking in fucking Italian which I understand but I'm pretending I don’t just for the fun of it. They were just talking about some boring ass shit anyways until they mentioned me. "Come facciamo a sapere che non è una spia per Il pazzo?" Some dude with brown eyes and a weird haircut said.

Bacha ma culo – kiss my ass Bastardo - bastard Cagacazzo – lame ass dumb Capeesh – understood Cazzo – dick, like Americans use the word fuck Che palle – what balls Maria’s favorite phrase Che te pozzino ammazza – you shall be butchered Chi non va non vede, chi non vede non sa e chi non sa se lo prende sempre in culo - if you don’t go you won’t see, if you don’t see you won’t know, if you don’t know you’ll take it in the ass every time

Fucker. I flex my hands on my thighs, something I do when I am stressed. I don't like to act out of the moment. A sober action is the longest-standing and most satisfying one. My eyes flicker at Giovanni, who is on the verge of blowing up some steam. I have never seen him this angry since the day of Maria's disappearance. My voice is as calm as I feel. "How are they getting away with all this destruction?" He snorts, punching the seat of the car furiously. "It is Lyyam Rodriguez. It is his new campaign. He is coming after us, boss.."Giovanni laughs, shaking his head like the psychopath he is. "We can't let go of living."

Curious, I pick up. “Is she going to be okay?!” The stranger automatically says. “Who is this, and who are you talking about?” I reply. “Selene! Who else? And I can’t tell you who I am, but I promise I’m a friend!” “A friend? More like a creepy stalker! Don’t call me again unless you want a report against you!” I hung up. What a psycho! I thought to myself. Who was this guy? And how come he couldn’t say who he was? How weird. I start to doze off, while thinking about the weirdo. I decided not to say anything to Selene about the weird phone call. Part of me wondered if I had dreamt it!

He kindly explains as his ocean-baby blue irises study me. "What has this Burak person done to earn your interest in bringing his company to an end?" I enquire with curiosity, the name oddly sounding familiar. "Let us simply state that the Esposito family does not accept cazzate (Bullshit) from any family with whom we do business. Especially the Turkish mafya (mafia)." He sneers, his eyes becoming clouded with contempt.

My head lolled back, a moan escaping my lips. "Cazzo, micio. Anche la tua figa sa di fragole." (F*ck, kitty. Even your p*ssy tastes like strawberries) I understood the gist of the statement given the mention of 'p*ssy' and 'strawberries'. The dirty Italian pushed all reservations to the wayside. Bracing one hand on the couch, I slid the other into his hair. I ran my blunt nails across his scalp and felt a shudder ghost down his back.

he smirks sitting down "Okay but you do know that you'll have to undergo the process of Omertá" "No problem" he shrugs "Wait I didn't undergo Omertá" I quiz looking between Matt and Seb "Considering you pissed yourself just from having a gun pressed to your head I doubt you can handle the process of Omertá," Seb says calmly but it came off rude as hell "You're a little bipolar shit aren't you" I spat leaning forward "Just cause you have a degree in psychology love it doesn't mean you can go on diagnosing people," he says in a bored tone