My stepbrother is the Mafia King

22| G O N E D A R K

SHANE

"DAMMIT!!" I push everything off the desk brushing my fingers through my hair. My office is littered with whiskey bottles, broken glass, and holes in walls. When the door opens, I point my gun at the person walking through the door, I'm in hell. The cigarette burns, the smoke blows right in front of my face, getting in my eyes. I rub my eye with the butt of the gun, then back at the intruder.

"Whoa! Man, put the gun down, it's me." I look at Enzo, I sigh in relief. He places plastic bags on my desk as he looks around the room. I've been trying to build a plan, but Mark has ripped everything out from under me. He took my house, My Fathers business, everything I have gained since his mysterious death. The Mafia world is being ripped out from under me the worst part is, he has Lexi. None of this would matter to me if she were with me right now. I don't have many resources to even walk out my own damn door. I sit down on the recliner wrapping my hands over my head. I look at Enzo, his eyes are red, I suspect the worse. I grab him by his shirt pinning him up against the wall.

"Tell me!" I screamed. Jessica stands up, continuing to pat her eyelashes. My fists were closed tightly, "Tell me Jessica." I demand.

"Gracie was killed with 552 other people in Mark's massacre that night."

"What about Lexi?" She shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders; I'm assuming No news is good news.

"Do you not care about your sister at all Shane?" I turn my back on my father.
"She's not my fucking sister, she's, my Fiancé." I walk back up the stairs and into my bedroom. It was just a few days ago we were twisted in these sheets, watching her toes curl, her, moaning my name. I open the bathroom door, her hair extensions still lying on the counter, her makeup scattered. Just in case I need to mourn her, I don't want anyone to touch what's still left of her.

"Why aren't we doing anything! WE ARE JUST SITTING HERE!" My back hitting the bathroom, I slide down, tears of frustration escape my eyes. I hold my head to relieve some of the pressure from my tears. Enzo looks at me, this is the second time he's seen me this vulnerable. I wonder if he would do this for Anna.

"Shane, we can't be irrational, don't you see it? It's just us, we can't do anything!" He sits down next to me; he fidgets with his fingers.

"Lexi isn't the only one you need to think of." I snapped my neck at him, I get up, getting close to his face.

"Like hell I can't." I speak.

I open and walk out the door, I have a business to run, I can't sulk anymore, I'm getting my girl back, even if it's the last thing I do. I quickly drive out of the driveway getting the hell out of California, if I'm going to do this, I'm going back to Spain.

Two days later

I look out the window of the limo, I haven't been gone from Spain for too long. In fact, I wonder how that wretch is doing since I saw her last. I step onto the fresh cut grass, how is grand papa?

"My boy?" He says from his wheelchair. I smile and give him a handshake. He stares in awe, it hasn't been long since I saw him, why is he acting so surprised. He begins to wheel away.

"Wait, Papa, what is going on?" He shakes his head, sharply turning around.

"you shouldn't be here." Why shouldn't I be here? His chest is moving up and down, he's either out of breath or having a panic attack. Does Mark have something to do with this? The water fountain is making the atmosphere, mystical. The butterflies have begun to fly around the special garden my grand mama used to tend too.

"I can't help you. So go back home." He looked defeated, does this have to do with me rejecting the proposal? I sigh, what did he get himself into?

"What do you need me to do?" I ask. He looks ecstatic that I even offered my time. It always comes down to business with him, but if I do what he needs I might be able to ask him for a bit of advice. I place my hands into my pockets, Enzo, Anna, and his son Zack wait for me at the entrance to the garden. Zack tries to catch the white butterfly floating near him, which eventually lands on his noise. He giggles, I smile to the sound of a child's laugh. My papa snaps his fingers between my eyes. He shows me a picture of a diamond that's locked up inside a museum. Really? This must be some sort of trick, I could walk through the door and take it right off the shelf, why do I need to steal it?