NFTMB)Chapter 61
Alessandro
(His Fifteenth)
I had always known who I was and what I was meant for.
So much more than regular.
I knew what I signified in my family and in society in general.
Nicholas Rossi, my father would always tell me that as the firstborn child and firstborn son, that I was invincible, untouchable and indestructible.
He made me believe that I was a god.
He drilled it into my head that I was the price. Besides, I was what he prayed for in a child even though I ultimately sent him to his early grave.
He told me countless times that the world was just beneath my feet and that being born into his family wasn’t only a wake up call to the numerous responsibilities placed upon my shoulders since birth, he made me see it as a gift.
I was on top of the world. Nicholas Rossi ruled the world during his own time as Don and now that it is my own turn to be Don, the world was my fucking oyster.
I owned that shit. It was mine to do with as I pleased.
Right from a very young age, my father made it known to me that money, women and power were already at my fingertips. They were all mine to possess and control. All perfect servants for me.
My father was a messed up piece of garbage who was given more power than he should have and that’s why he misused it and ended up hurting the people beside him including me.
He made me into the monster people see me as today and I’m fucking grateful for that.
On my fifteenth birthday, my dipshit of a father after an intense fighting training where I was made to fight his fully grown, adult and able bodied men that almost ended my life. He told me he had a surprise for me.
Would you believe that?
He called it a birthday gift of some sort. I was quite surprised to hear that knowing my father was not an affectionate or emotional person, I was quite excited to know what the great tyrant Nicholas Rossi would give his heir on his birthday.
It was the best news on the best day of my life. I won the fight and my father was going to appreciate me for it. I was over the moon.
As much as I had mastered the technique of ending a person’s life swiftly and painfully since I was younger, but then at the young age of fifteen, I couldn’t still deny that deep down I was still a normal teenager, a child. A broken and twisted one nonetheless but still a child.
My little brain conjured up different types of gifts that parents usually give their children, maybe it would be a racing car or a computer system or maybe a nice pair of shoes.
I would have honestly wished I got the shoes.
I had been blindfolded and taken to where I couldn’t make out and I was shaking with excitement.
What I saw when the blindfold came off wasn’t what I had expected. Never.
Instead of a giant race car, I was now face to face with a very naked woman.
Fear.
Cold fear.
My father was there behind me and I still remember him whispering into my ear, “Happy birthday, son”.
He forced me to do it. I told him that I didn’t want to do it and I asked why she was crying and why she was tied up to the bed and her mouth was gagged.
He said it’s all a part of the excitement of what I was about to do. That she was crying tears of joy.
Silly young me didn’t think that maybe she didn’t want to do it.
He told me he was doing me a favor and making me a man. He told me that I would one day thank him for that day.
That was my first time seeing a naked woman and also being with one. It felt very weird.
My father stood there all through that nightmare yelling out what to do. He kept telling me to do different things that the girl underneath me reacted painfully to. She didn’t seem like she wanted to do this.
He stood there with his arms folded watching me. Each time I turned to look behind me and see if he was still there or if he had left, my eyes would immediately meet his.
It was uncomfortable and awkward but still nothing close to the terror that occurred afterwards.
After making me have sex with the girl he picked up from God knows which side of town, he told me to kill her.
I had barely recovered from what he made me do when he placed a dagger in my hand and told me to slit her throat.
I couldn’t bring myself to kill the girl I had just slept with. I didn’t like the way the command sounded.
I killed for the first time when I was thirteen and that was different. It was in training and I had to kill him to show I was stronger.
He threw insults and derogatory and degrading words at me telling me how much of a pussy I was to allow a cheap whore sway me into sparing her life just because I fucked her.
He pushed me and pressed my buttons and even went as far as saying he wished that I had Niccolo’s temper and rage.
He told me that he was disappointed in me and that I would cease to be his heir if I don’t do it.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it, I remember looking at the girl’s crying face and continuous shake of her head begging me not to kill her. She couldn’t talk because my father had her gagged and tied up throughout.
She could only cry, shake her head and squirm.
No matter how many times I tried to tell myself that I could slip right back into the past version of me that killed a man in cold blood for no reason, I still couldn’t do it.
The switch just refused to flip.
My father must have then sensed my internal battle with myself as he could notice my sagged shoulders and hesitant body language as I sat on top of the girl whose tearful eyes I couldn’t look away from, he switched up his game.
He attacked me where he knew I couldn’t defend or resist. He hit my sore spot.
He used my family against me.
He threatened to slit my mother’s throat, marry off Bianca to a drug lord pervert and force Valentino to do what I couldn’t do if I didn’t slit her throat on ten counts.
I couldn’t imagine my little brother, Valentino, who loved to play with animals and take pictures of everything with his toy camera being forced to have sex with a girl and kill her afterwards.
It would break Valentino if he had to go through half of what I was forced to do.
I didn’t need to be told twice what to do.
Before he could count to eight, she was dead. I did it. I killed her in cold blood.
I was forced to have sex with her and I was also forced to kill her.
But was it really forced? I ask myself sometimes.
Nobody held my hand, I did it by myself. I dragged the sharp blade with so much force across her neck that I could see what lay beneath.
I still remember the warmness of her blood across my face and hands while I looked into her now lifeless eyes.
I was almost scared to look at her. It felt creepy. One moment she was moving and alive and the next she was dead.
I don’t know why I always feel that way whenever I think of her considering that she wasn’t my first kill.
My father slapped me proudly on the back and told me how much of a man I had become and how proud he was of me.
He said I had made him and our ancestors happy. He said that I had proved to be his son.
My father was so proud of me that he happily spread the news to my family who looked nothing less than shocked.
They all looked at me with fear and shock in their eyes, like I was going to hurt them when in reality they were the ones I sacrificed my little drop of humanity for. Especially Valentino.
They looked at me then just like how Victoria looked at me now.
Fear.
She was frightened of me. I could see it in her eyes and her words even her fucking movements around me screamed fear.
But then.
There was a great difference.
With Victoria, I reveled in the fear. It made me excited, it made me happy.
I loved seeing her afraid of me. It made me sure that she was still in line. I had her under control.
It was that same fear that made her accept me into her body wholeheartedly without questions and without a fight.
I know she saw my gun that was under my pillow earlier today and that was why she relaxed and stopped fighting me.
She was afraid that I was going to snap and maybe shoot her there and then if she didn’t let me inside her.
She was scared of me and I was fucking ecstatic about that.
I could think of a few things that she might think I was going to do to her as I gripped her hair and led her to the bed. I’m always the bad guy and the maniac. Well, aren’t I?
She thrashed and resisted so violently thinking I was about to fuck her. That would be later.
For now I needed to show her the concrete evidence I had of her lies and betrayal.
I dragged her to the bed before tossing her there and watching her hold on to her stomach like it was slipping.
Her hair was messy at this point as she sat obediently and cried like a child.
I walked to the other side of the bed before extracting the photos that Carlo had supplied me from Victoria’s day out.
She had a look of confusion as I held up the brown envelope for her to see.
“See this, Victoria? This is evidence of your lies, my dear wife. I had you followed only to watch you flirt with a man you lied about being your friend shamelessly”. I hastily opened the envelope to retrieve the photos.
Holding the pictures in my hand, I threw them at her watching her turn her face away to prevent them from hitting her eyes.
“Take a look at it!”
“Alessandro, stop this please”. She begged with tears running down her face. “I lied to you and I apologize. My friends were busy and bailed on me. Simon and Grace couldn’t make it and that’s why I was with Leonard. I’m sorry I didn’t inform you”.
“Shut the fuck up and pick the damn photos up!”
She was telling a half truth and expecting me to believe that someone like her that staged a grand meet up at a secret rendezvous where Curt didn’t even know, was not aware that those two idiots wouldn’t be there?
She really thinks I’m dumb.
She slowly picked up the photographs with shaky hands only for her eyes to widen and she looked at me immediately while I arched an eyebrow at her.
What can she say in her defense now?