Obsidian Hearts: I

Seventeen: Off The Bitch

— Paris Delaney

The darkness of my room surrounds me.

Turning over to face the left side of my room my hand slips under my pillow to grace the hard cold steel of my gun.

I clutch it in my hand ready to pull the trigger before my bed even dips. "You have five fucking seconds to leave or else your brother will be getting a call from the funeral home."

Silas groans, still tossing himself beside me, the smell of alcohol strong on his person. He gets under my covers not caring that I'm nudging him with my gun. "Boy you and I both know—."

"That I'll pull this trigger. Now I'm trying to be nice." I told him eyes slanted even in the dark.

"This is weird for me too but that couch was uncomfortable and you live like a damn peasant. You have more than enough money to get a bigger house, why in the hell is there only three bedrooms?"

I sighed harshly and ran a stressed hand down my face. "It was big enough before you moved those two in with me. I don't need all that space it's not like I'm hosting fucking family reunions or some shit."

Silas yanks one of the two pillows from behind my head and gets entirely too comfortable in my shit. What I didn't want to do to this man, it was almost frightening at how much I had to restrain myself from repeatedly stabbing him.

I had to remind myself who he was.

I couldn't kill the Don. I couldn't kill the fucking DON!

"Solo un idiota sceglierebbe di vivere così male." My uncle mumbles in his mother tongue, Italian thick in his accent.

[Only an idiot would choose to live so poorly.]

I brush off his plain disrespect and insult. "Is there something that I can help you with uncle?" I asked even though I didn't want to.

"No." He said with a tone that screamed I had the audacity to ask such a thing.

"Then why fuck are you here?"

"I have news which I do recall telling you before passing out on that ridiculously hard couch."

My couch wasn't hard, he was just a pampered idiot who liked everything fancy. If it didn't cost thousands then he considered himself too good to ever buy it.

"How you remember anything is beyond me."

Silas's deep laugh resonates through the room. "Until you've been doing this as long as I have you'll never understand. Alcohol can only affect you for as long as you let it. If I say I'm sober then I'm sober."

It didn't work like that but I'm not arguing with him anymore tonight.

"Anyways," he clears his throat, turning serious. "Seraphina will be flying in sometime next month. Her father decided to send her first before he arrived because he had some work to finish up back home. Him and his wife will arrive two weeks after which should be enough time for you to get acquainted with the girl."

"Of all the things you have asked of me this has got to be the stupidest. You know my father warned me against them saying they aren't as right in the head as you claim."