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The Mafia's Ruination - Episode 43




The  Mafia's Ruination - Episode 43

Subtitle; {Between Love and War} 

Authoress Rejoice            



Alexander's POV

The past two weeks of my life were incredible, spectacular, and profoundly amazing. Alice had become an integral part of my life. Those two weeks were blissful; it felt as if I had discovered love. However, disàster struck when my father invited me to our family home. I chose not to inform Alice about it and made my way there.


As I parked my car in the mansion's driveway, a wave of unpléasant memories washed over me. This house had never been a home to me; it was more akin to a príson. I had spent twenty tumultuóus years in this place, an experience I wouldn't wish upon my wórst enémy. Guards were stationed all around, as if they were safeguarding a déity. With a deep sigh, I exited the car, ignoring the greetings from the staff.

Upon entering, the maids froze in their tracks, bowing their heads in respect. I didn't want to be here. My long-dormant migraine was returning, my hands were clammy, and my breathing was erratic. I forced myself to maintain composure. 

"Hey bro, what brings you here?" Madison's voice rang out cheerfully. "Mom's upstairs." 

"I'm not here for her," I responded, struggling to keep my breathing steady. "Where is..." 

"Oh no, you're here for Dad." Her cheerful tone evaporated, replaced by a look of fear in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't know he'd call you over." 

"Where is he?" I asked in a monotone voice. 

"Second living room." I made my way towards the second living room. 

Panic was setting in; my hands were trembling and damp, my vision was blurring, and my heart was racing. There he was, seated in his throne-like chair, engrossed in something on the TV. 

I exhaled, revealing my presence to him. 

"Finalmente sei qui," he said in his usual detached tone. "Sedere." 

Translation: Finally, you are here. Sit down. 

I complied. I wanted this ordeal to end quickly so I could return home to Alice. Her comforting scent and warmth were exactly what I needed to calm my nerves. 

"Vedo che hai perso le buone maniere oltre che il cervello," My father stated, his black eyes glaring coldly at me. "Vado dritto al punto dicendo che ti sposerai prima del prossimo anno." 

Translation: I see you have lost your manners as well as your brains. I'm going straight to the point by saying you'll be married before next year.

Involuntarily, a laugh erupted from my mouth. His volcanic eyes sent me a piercing glare, shutting off my laughter. "Cosa intendi?" I asked. 

Translation: What do you mean?

"Ti sposerai con Peyton Alfonso entro dicembre," he replied as if it was no big deal. 

Translation: You're getting married to Peyton Alfonso by December.

I stared at him, dumbfounded and speechless. He wants me to get married to his friend's daughter? Should I be surprised? No, I shouldn't, but I am. I thought this matchmaking act would stop, but obviously it didn't. I was fórced to give away my first kiss at the age of thirteen to a girl I didn't know, all because of my father. 

He's pressuriñg me to marry her now, but I simply can't. It's an impossibility. I refuse to marry someone of his choosing. I should have the right to select my own life partner; in fact, I've already chosen. I'm in love with Alice and I planned on confessing my feelings to her soon. Why is this happening to me? Can't the universe just let me be happy?

He announced with a grin, the first one he's shown me since I was born, "Domani tornerà dalle Hawaii, quindi sii qui per dare il benvenuto alla tua fidanzata." 

Translation: "She will return from Hawaii tomorrow, so be here to welcome your fiancée."


"Cosa intendi per no?"  

Translation; What do you mean by no? 

"No, non sarò qui," I clarified, rising to my feet. His smile faded, replaced by a frown. "Perché non la sposerò." 

Translation; No, I won't be here. Because I won't marry her.

"Sì, lo farai," He insisted, nodding his head. "Sposerai Peyton Alfonso, che ti piaccia o no." 

Translation; Yes, you will. You will marry Peyton Alfonso whether you like it or not. 

"Non puoi fare niente per farmi sposare Peyton, non mi piace. " I snapped.

Translation; There's nothing you can do to make me marry Peyton, I don't like her. 

"In realtà, ho qualcosa che posso fare per farti sposare. " my father's voice replied menacingly. He crossed his legs, smirking. He turned on his phone, scrolled through it, and then showed me something I had no interest in seeing. "Dai un'occhiata, Alexander."

Translation; Actually, I have something I can do to make you marry her. Have a look, Alexander.

My eyes were drawn reluctantly to the screen of my phone. Swiftly, I recognized my house. There was a red dot on Alice; she was seated on the living room couch. My bloód seemed to freeze in my veins as I watched the red dot remain on her. 

"Vuoi sposare Peyton, Alexander?" That voice spoke again, pulling my attention towards him. I stared at him, shaking my head in disappointment, disheartened by the fact that this man was my father. "Sapevo che quella ragazza ti avrebbe rovinato, guardati, stai piangendo. Solo due parole e vedrai il suo sangue sgorgare dal suo cuore." 

Translation; Will you marry Peyton, Alexander? I knew that girl will ruín you, just take a look at yourself, you're crying. Just two words and you'll watch her bloód flow out of her heart. 

I glanced at the screen once more, hoping to see Alice had moved, but she remained stationary, still engrossed in her sketchbook. My gaze returned to my unfeéling father, and I let out a weak sigh. The thing I feàred most in the world was about to happen, regardless of whether I said yes or no. Either way, I would lóse Alice. If I agreed, I would marry a girl I knew nothing about and lóse Alice in the process. Alice wouldn't stay with me if I were married; she was not that kind of girl. If I refused, I wouldn't have to marry a stranger, but Alice would suffer because of me. Either scenario was unbearable. Lósing Alice felt akin to dyíng.

Alice was my first love, my first real kiss; she was my everything. She had transformed me, reshaping me from the robotic entity I once was into the human I am now. I loved Alice, but I knew I couldn't be with her. Fate was cruel to me. All I wanted was a moment of happiness in my otherwise misérable life. Was that too much to ask?

"Qual è la tua risposta, figliolo?" 

Translation; What is your answer, son? Son? 

He didn't just address me as such. Never in my twenty-seven years of existence have I felt akin to his offspring. I was treated wórse than a servànt in my father's household. I restrained myself from acting impulsively. I slipped my hand into my pocket, retrieving my phone. 

"Non osare fare il furbo con me, Alexander. Lei sarà morta prima che la chiamata vada a buon fine." 

Translation; Don't you dare outsmart me, Alexander. She will be déad before the call gets through. 

I clutched my throbbing head, pleading, "Per favore, non farlo, per favore." 

Translation: Please, don't do this, please. 

My father, Aidan Romano, rose from his seat, advancing towards me. "Stai diventando debole, molto più debole di prima. Alessandro, fai la tua scelta. Il tuo matrimonio o la sua morte?" 

Translation: You're getting wéak, much weakér than before. Alexander, make your choice. Your marriage or her deàth? 

"La sposerò," I responded, no longer hesitating. "Per favore, non fare del male ad Alice in alcun modo." Translation: I'll marry her. Please, don't hàrm Alice in any way. 

"Bravo ragazzo," he muttered, patting my cheek. "Peyton è così felice di conoscerti." 

Translation: Good boy. Peyton is so excited to meet you.

"Sure," I replied, absentmindedly. 

"Abbandona quel comportamento entro domani," he ordered. "Voglio che tu sorridi con lei domani, ok?" 

Translation: Drop that behavior by tomorrow. I want you to be smiling with her tomorrow, okay?

"Sorridente?" I retorted, angrily. "Come cazzo vuoi che sorrida, padre? Come?!" 

Translation: Smiling? How the héll do you expect me to smile, father? How?!

"Non alzare la voce con me, moccioso," he responded, doing what he does best - slapping me. "Farai esattamente quello che ti chiedo di fare, sei mio figlio." 

Translation: Don't you raise your voice at me, you little bràt. You will do exactly what I ask you to do, you're my son.

"Figlio?!" I yelled out in disbelief. "Quando mai mi hai trattato come se fossi tuo figlio? Sei un cattivo padre, maledico il giorno in cui mi hai generato.." 

Translation: Son?! When have you ever treated me like I was your son? You're a bàd father, I cúrse the day you fathered me.

Another slap struck my face, tears cascading from my eyes. "Ti odio, ti odio, ti odio così tanto," I spat. 

Translation; I hàte you, I hàte you, I hàte you so much. 

"Certo che lo fai, sei solo un debole sfortunato per mio figlio," his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Guarda il clan spagnolo, hanno un grande leader. Guarda il clan messicano, il primo figlio guida perfettamente il clan. Non puoi essere più simile a loro? Smetti di essere inutile e senza speranza e fai qualcosa." 

Translation: Of course you do, you're just a weakling compared to my son. Look at the Spanish clan, they have a strong leader. Look at the Mexican clan, the first son leads the clan flawlessly. Can't you be more like them? Stop being useless and hopeless and do something.

The pàin of being compared to others by your own parents is unbearable. The agóny is even more profound when it's the person whose approval you crave. Despite his words piercing my heart and soul, I yearned for the same things - for my father to love me, to treat me like his son, to be proud of me. I would give anything in this world for that.

"Beh, mi dispiace per non essere stato utile e pieno di speranza," I choked out, a large lump in my throat. "Hai ragione, non sono come gli spagnoli e i messicani ma non è colpa mia. È tuo." His confused gaze snapped to me. "Se solo ti tenessi il cazzo nei pantaloni, non sarei qui, vero?"

Translation: Well, I'm sorry for not being useful and hopeful. You're right, I'm not like the Spanish and Mexicans but it's not my fault. It's yours. If only you kept your díck in your pants, I wouldn't be here, right? 

"ALEXANDER!" His voice echoed through the entire house, a cold and icy look on his face. "Se non ti dispiace le tue parole, giuro che lo farò..."

Translation: "ALEXANDER!" His voice echoed through the entire house, a cold and icy look on his face. "If you don't mind your words, I swear I'll..."

"Cos'altro sei in grado di fare?" Non appena ebbi pronunciato queste parole, me ne pentii. Lui sorrise con sufficienza, prendendo il suo telefono. "Mi dispiace, davvero. Mi dispiace." 

Translation; What else are you capable of? 

As soon as I uttered those words, I regretted it. He smirked, taking his phone. 

"I'm sorry, truly. I'm sorry."

"Stai diventando un burattino, ragazzo. Questa ragazza ti ha completamente sconvolto." 

Translation; You're becoming a puppet, boy. This girl has completely rúin you.

"Posso andare via, per favore?" 

Translation; Can I leave please? 

"Certo, non mi importa." 

Translation; Sure, I don't care. 

"Come posso essere sicuro che non lo farai. . ." 

Translation; How can I be sure that you won't. . . 

He smiles evílly, rubbing his hand on his neck. "Non farò del male alla tua ragazza se mi darai la tua parola." 

Translation; I will not hàrm your girl if I have your word. 

"Hai la mia parola, sposerò Peyton Alfonso." I replied, maintaining intense eye contact with him. "Ma se succede qualcosa ad Alice prima che io torni a casa, giuro su Dio che scatenerò l'inferno." 

Translation; You have my word, I'll marry Peyton Alfonso. But if anything happens to Alice before I get home, I swéar to God héll will break loose.

"Forse hai del sangue mafioso in te, dopo tutto," he said, patting me on the shoulder. 

Translation: Maybe you have some Mafía blóod in you, after all. 

I recoiled, shaking his hand off my shoulder. "Purtroppo," I replied. 

Translation: Unfortunately.

"Sweetie, when did you arrive?" My mother's voice echoed from behind me. I turned to see her approaching, arms open for an embrace. "My darling son, how are you?"

"Good," I answered, forcing a smile onto my face. 

"How is Alice?"

"Good. Mom, I need to go. See you tomorrow." 

Before she could respond, I made my exit, desperate for a breath of fresh air. I got into my car and drove away as quickly as I could. I'm set to be married by December to someone I'll probably despise at first sight. Isn't that just fantastic? I couldn't even confess my feelings to Alice. But at least she'll still be alive, while I spend the rest of my life in a metaphorical càge.

TBC 📖✍️

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