The mafia’s shared love

NOLAN’s POV 

“You’re marrying her, and that’s final!” my father declared, rising from his chair with an air of authority that filled the room. 

I stood slowly, taking deliberate steps toward the door. “You don’t get to decide how I live my life. I’ll do whatever the hell I want!” I shot back, pausing at the door frame to meet his gaze before walking away.

As I headed to my car, my mind raced with the weight of his words. Marry a girl I didn’t even know in two months? Who the hell did he think he was, dictating how screwed up my life should be?

On my way out, I caught sight of my mother standing by the doorway. The worry etched across her face was unmistakable, but I managed a faint smile before stepping out into the evening air.

Growing up, I had always been the most gentle of my siblings. Ruthless, yet gentle. I’d poured my focus into the family business, knowing my father would one day hand it over to me. The mafia world was twisted and chaotic, but it perfectly fits my type of chaos. My father was a controlling force, constantly dictating and bossing everyone around. But with me, he trod carefully, aware that I could be just as ruthless as him. 

For three generations, my family had ruled the mafia world, amassing generational wealth and a reputation that made us untouchable. I was raised alongside two brothers and a sister, but while they were shielded from the darker sides of the business, I was thrust into it early. As the heir, it was my destiny to lead. 

Despite the darkness surrounding our lives, my mother, Livia, nurtured love within our family. She was the stark opposite of my father—the ruthless leader balanced by her tender care. Sometimes, I wondered how they’d ever ended up together.

“Come in. Looks like you’re losing your mind over something,” Dimitri, my friend and business partner, said, holding the door to his condo open.

I needed to cool off, and there was no one better at problem-solving than Dimitri. That’s why our business partnership has lasted this long.

“Let’s hear it,” Dimitri said, pouring us each a glass of scotch.

I chuckled. “That easy to read me, huh?”

No, we’ve just handled too many deals together for me not to notice when you’re ready to murder someone. I’m just thankful it’s not me this time.”

“Funny,” I said dryly, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “My father wants me married in two months.”

“Well damn, I had no idea you and Clara were that serious” 

“You know Clara and I aren’t that serious. Hell, I don’t even know anything about that bitch.” I replied, leaning back. Clara and I had been in an open relationship for over a year—nothing exclusive, just convenience.

“Who the hell are you getting married to then?” Dimitri asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Just some girl whose father we’re looking to do business with,” I said bitterly.

“Oh shittt!”

That was all he needed to hear. He knew something was wrong. My father and I had been working to expand the business, forging alliances to secure our future. But after a betrayal two years ago by one of my father’s partners, the business had taken a hit—a bigger one than I’d realized.

“Exactly how bad is the business doing” he said with his calculative eyes as he tried to make sense of what I just told him. 

“As bad as you can imagine,” I admitted, swirling my scotch. For someone destined to inherit the family empire, my father sure liked keeping me in the dark. Whenever I suggested taking the reins, he shut me down, insisting I wasn’t ready. 

“It’s Friday night,” Dimitri said, finishing his drink. “Let’s hit the club, clear our heads, and figure out a plan later.”

I wasn’t in the mood to party, but I wasn’t in the mood for much of anything. Nodding, I rolled up my sleeves, the tattoos on my forearm coming into view. “Our usual spot?”

“Yeah. Let me call ahead for our table,” Dimitri said, already dialing.

We sped through the smooth streets of his estate in my car. Like me, Dimitri had been born into this life, though his family handled logistics and legalities.

We got into my car and I sped down the smooth road of Dimitgri’s posh estate. Just like me, Dimitri was born into this life. The only difference was that his own family handled logistics and the legal aspects. They knew everybody everywhere. 

“You bringing Clara tonight, or are you on the hunt for someone new?” Dimitri asked, texting on his phone.

“Neither. The last thing I need right now is a woman in my face, the thought of holding a conversation with a woman repulses me right now” I replied, rolling my eyes as we pulled into the club’s underground lot.

We went straight to the VIP section of the club as that is our usual spot if we ever come to Club Hera. “Let’s order something to drink,” Dimitri said while waving over the waitress. “ Bring in two bottles of Whiskey with ice and some shots of Vodka,” he told the waitress. 

As I sipped my drink, my phone buzzed. It was a message from my sister: Father wants us all at dinner tomorrow. I locked the screen without replying. Family dinner? No thanks.

Dimitri disappeared to chat up a group of women by the bar. At least one of us would enjoy the night. I leaned back, nursing my drink. Casual flings weren’t my thing—as my sex preferences weren’t for everyone. Only someone as fucked up as I enjoyed it, that’s why Clara worked. She understood me. My preference wasn't anything extreme, I just enjoyed sex differently. 

Dimitri came back with two of the ladies some minutes after and I excused myself to use the restroom. The drinks I’ve had were making me a bit lightheaded but it was the kind of tipsy I needed to get through the night. 

On my way back, I passed a private section where people indulged in their quick and filthy desires. What I saw stopped me dead in my tracks. Just as expected there was indeed someone there who was getting satisfied, but it wasn’t anything I had ever imagined. 

In the dimly lit room, I saw a young lady sitting with her legs spread widely apart, a man on his knees pleasing her, while another kissed and fondled her breasts.  I had heard and seen women get pleased by multiple men, but this was different. 

It wasn’t the scene itself that left me taken aback—it was the gun in her hand, pressed against the kneeling man’s temple. I’ve never heard of it being done while the woman held one of the men at gunpoint.

It was fucked up sight, but I found it hot. The man stopped kissing her and her eyes lifted, locking onto mine like she knew I had been there the whole time.