Wicked Games

Hello everyone!! 

First of all thank you very much for reading, it means the world to me. But before you start reading you should know that the Lemontes and the Cavanaughs are two crime families, who are arch enemies. A bit Romeo and Juliet style, but this story is going to be nothing like this. Well now you know this. Read on! 

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There's a hole in my soul, can you fill it?

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“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Frank Lamonte folded his arms over his broad chest as he looked at the helpless boy in front of him. “This is our spy?”

Everyone around him chuckled with disdain. It was hardly believable that the frail boy in front of us had tried to infiltrate in a dangerous crime network. He couldn’t be older than fifteen, sixteen at most, hardly a threat to all the muscled men around him.

But still I felt a strange admiration for the boy. Despite his frail appearance, he had been able to sabotage an important mission. That took skills and most of all courage.

“What are we going to do with you?” Frank circled the boy predatorily, a mean glint in his eye. It was obvious that he was going to enjoy torturing him. I hated my cousin for that. He was too cruel.

This was again proven as he swung his meaty arm at the spy, letting his fist connect with his nose. The sickening crack that sounded throughout the room made the other five guys laugh.

He hit the boy a few more times until his face was nothing more than a bloody mess. Only then did he get to business.

“Whom were you working for?”

I rolled my eyes at this. Everyone with more than two brain cells already knew that answer.

“The Cavanaughs,” the boy said through grunts of pain.

I balled my fists at his. Even though I knew the answer beforehand, hearing it made the hate inside me boil even more. There was nothing in the world I despised more than the Cavanaughs.

For as long as anyone can remember two crime families had ruled Los Angeles: the Lamonte family and the Cavanaugh family. They had been fighting a war for centuries and it still wasn’t over. I believed it never would be, since both families were just as strong and powerful. Neither was ever going to give up.

As the mafia princess of the Lamontes, I had learned that the one thing I should hate more than cops were Cavanaughs. And it wasn’t difficult for me to abhor them. They had killed many of my friends and family and for that I hated them.

Another crack of bones snapped me back to the scene in front of me. I watched lazily as Frank kept torturing the boy and asking him questions everyone knew the answer to. I leaned against the wall in the back and decided to enjoy the show for a while.

“Do they really think they can overpower us?” Frank asked, while he inspected the knife in his hand. With they he obviously meant the Cavanaughs.

“They will,” the boy spat, grinning as if he was going to enjoy the next part. “Especially now the principe has returned.”

At this everyone started murmuring. Even my head shot up at this. The principe was Italian for prince. It was the term the Cavanaughs used for the adopted son of the leader: Harry Styles. He disappeared two years ago and everyone believed him to be dead. Until now.

I pushed myself from the wall and made my way to the boy. All men looked up and moved away to let me through. I stood in front of him and made sure to use my full height, just like my trainers had taught me.