Obsidian Hearts: I

Twenty Eight: De Santis

⚠️T.W— Self harm

— Paris Delaney

The clock ticked down to about midnight and yet it felt as if everything was moving entirely too slow. Maybe it was drugs in my system to help keep me awake or the alcohol mixed within.

It was something— it was everything.

The loud music in the background of the club helped with nothing other than keeping me from being able to think straight because if I could everyone in this section would be dead.

I looked at the Russians. They were enjoying their night, sipping away at their liquor while woman in barely there outfits pranced and dance grinding on any paying man. The sweat of bodies all around me made me want to puke but I pushed through.

I had to remind myself that this would soon be over and I'd be able to leave, going home to Sable.

Fuck, I missed her.

After our conversation earlier I could tell that she wasn't okay. It made me want to get on my jet
and fly back to her but I knew I couldn't do that. I had to make sacrifices or else everything I've did up until now would be for nothing.

Silas was passed out somewhere back at the hotel, drunk off his ass. I seriously debated slicing his throat the minute he picked up that bottle. I'd leave him dead in Sicily for my father to one day find. It was a tempting thought— one that almost pained me to not make reality.

"De Santis!" One of the Russian cocks known as Artyom called.

They only address us by our should have been given surname. It's been a long time running joke that we didn't take our Italian name— Delaney was far from acceptable in their eyes. I never gave a shit.

Call me what you want. Just don't fuck with me.

I rolled my head his way, my no doubt dark eyes glaring at him. One of the bottle girls came and brought my drink, she's been refilling my glasses all night without me even asking. I'm sure she probably wanted some attention but I didn't have any to give.

I did take the drink though.

Her lingering eyes burned into the side of my head as I sipped the aged whiskey. If I had the energy to tell her to fuck off I would have but I couldn't even find it in me.

"Why don't we get down to business. We came here to discuss a truce, did we not?"

The others fuckers grunt and nod in agreement. There were three of them in total. Artyom, Alexei, and Grigoriy.

I had their daughters locked up somewhere with my men ready to release them but only when I get some signatures on paper first.

Francesco— Silas's right hand let me know that the documents were ready to be signed and I nod for someone to bring them in. Three men came in with these black fancy ass brief cases that made me chuckle from how pretentious it all seemed. I couldn't wait until this was actually all mine, a lot of shit would change. I had power now but it was limited, soon there wouldn't be a limit on anything of mine.

Alexi was the first to pop open that brief case pulling the papers into his greedy hands. I continued with my drink not bothering myself with them.