Sold to the mafia boss

Logan’s P. O. V.

The day I found out that Santiago DeAngelo had been killed by someone, I didn’t know what to think. I’ve lived all my life feeling like he was too immortal to be killed, I never saw the part where he was still human with flesh and blood who could be killed by the pack of enemies he made for himself. He was my model and I adored him, always looked up to him. I believed in him so much that I forgot that he could be someone’s target.

That’s when I knew that there was more to the world I know than I’d thought.

You know that feeling you get after you’ve been doused in ice cold water and just for a few seconds it feels like you’ve been frozen in a glacier or something like that?

That was the feeling I got as I stared down into the seemingly dark, fathomless pale blue eyes of my uncle as he laid lifeless at the end of the dark tunnel leading down the water wash next to the bushes, a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead. I knew that if I hadn’t found him, his body would’ve been washed away into those forests.

I can remember my chest tightening. I remember not being able to breathe that I actually began to wonder if I had a history of asthma that I didn’t know of. I’d screamed my heart out, my eyes watering in anger. I tried to breathe, I wanted to unleash my anger on anything. I kicked my car, kicked a couple of my men who stood around watching the drama I performed. They were all pained too. My uncle was their boss before me.

Nothing could ever compare to the pain I felt that day. I spent the whole day screaming in my room, knocking things off and smashing the walls till my hands were all wounded.

Santiago DeAngelo was the closest thing I ever had to a father, love and everything in between. He nurtured me into the man that I am today.

And as I walked out of the car that drove me back to my former home again tonight, I carried a lot of guilt. Questions kept running through my mind like stray bullets. I wasn’t guilty for my uncle’s death. I knew my father was going to mention it and try to pin it on me but I knew he could easily go down for it if Jamie Templeman didn’t go down. My father never loved his brother, Santiago. They were hardly ever on the same page and that was enough to go on.

As I reached the foyer, I heard the loud chatters coming from inside the room. I tried to recognize each voices but it was impossible. I could only recognize the voice of my mother, Graziella and a distant cousin of my father’s. As soon as I stepped inside, I spotted my mom, heavily dressed in her green bodice dress with a long pearl necklace hanging off her wrinkling neck. She’s standing at the window, having a serious talk with my father’s cousin, Martello. On the rugged floor were two little girls not looking older than seven involved in kids play with a couple of toys.

Around the corner stood a somewhat chubby young woman, dressed in a nude gown that exposed most of her body. She’s watching some photo albums from the counter next to her, a wine glass in her hand.

I could see movements in the wide kitchen. I caught sight of Graziella dashing in, what looked like apron tied around her back. The rest of the noise was coming in from the kitchen.

” Ah, Logan, you’re here” my mother called, sprinting towards me as soon as she spotted me.

The chubby woman who standing closest to me but failed to notice my presence because she was too consumed by the photo album she was looking at turns around to see me. ” This is the Logan?” She asks. “So this is the man everyone’s been talking about”

I titled my head slightly towards her, wearing my amused smile for the first time tonight “and you are?”

“It’s a shame how you don’t know me, ” she spoke elegantly, stalking towards me to fill the little space between us “I’m Elina. Wife to your uncle, Martello”

I took the hand she’s pointing at me, feigning gladness and bent over to peck it “how wonderful to have you here with us tonight”

I agreed instantly that the black haired kids playing on the rug were hers and Martello’s kids.

” Logan DeAngelo, ” the said Martello speaks from behind my mother ” the legendary son of the DeAngelo dynasties. I’m honored to be in your presence tonight ”

“Pleasure is mine, ” I replied, getting rather upset with the fake pleasantries ” shall we have dinner already? I don’t have all day”

“Come with me, papi!” Graziella speaks from the kitchen exit. I turned a look at her, smiling back. She doesn’t appear dressed up for a family dinner. Instead, she’s covered in flour and all sorts of food. She beacons with her hand to follow her and I did, towards the next room.

” I’m just gonna dust myself and slip into my dress, ” she explains as she pulled me towards the bedroom.

“Not tonight….” I mumbled in between.

“It’s only gonna take a minute! Then we can join the rest of the family at the back!” She pushed, running into her closet as soon as we entered the bedroom she currently stayed in.

I sat down on the bed, waiting for her. The room had been a spare room back in the days. It was where Dylano and I would come to play war fights, dressed up as Nazis. The memory causes me to smile. The memory is short lived when Graziella walks back with her dress zipper open for me to zip. Grunting annoyingly, I rose up to zip it up for her.

Somethings just never change, does it?