𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | [𝟏𝟖+]

one: the broken vase.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐯:

It's bullshit really. I mean of course it is, life is complete bullshit, but being born a twin in the mafia?

Bullshit.

I've been training to be heir my whole life. Beating myself up over and over just so I can be better than my asshole of a brother and enough for my even more of an asshole father.

Sorry, kind of throwing this all at you without a proper introduction. My mother would've been scolding me right now if she was reading this monologue. I'm Stella, Stella Rose White. The daughter of American Mob boss, Rafael White. Oh, how could I forget, and twin sister of the most charming, most daring unconfirmed heir of the American mafia, Stephen White.

You heard that sarcasm right?

Why unconfirmed? Well, since me and my brother are first born twins we both have a shot at being the heir. That shit should've been determined when we were born but my father decided to wait until we're 20 to make his final decision. For years my father has been pinning us against each other to see who could be the strongest, physically and mentally. He has an advantage, being apart of the male species, but I was born exactly 7 minutes and 35 seconds before him. Which should automatically make me heir, right?

No.

As soon as my father saw that his heir came out with a fucking vagina, his mind completely flipped.

"Rose," I hear a familiar voice from my door as I'm laying in my warm bed.

My whole family calls me Rose. My mother's name was Rosa and since my middle name is Rose and well, you know, my mom's kind of dead, it's just kind of stuck.

Yeah, we'll get to that some other time.

"What do you want, Markus?" I respond, slightly irritated that they interrupted my train of thought.

My younger brother, Markus, swings my door open and stands in my door like a kid who's trying to tell their parents they just threw up.

Oh my fucking gosh.

"What did you do now?" I ask as I immediately stand up from my bed and walk towards him. Markus is how most 17 year old boys would act. Immature, annoying, wears a t-shirt, shorts, and Nike socks 99% of his life. He scoffs and he follows me as I walk downstairs knowing that's exactly where whatever he's broken is.

"Why do you always assume it's me? What if it was Greyson, huh?" he defends.

I abruptly turn around, making him stop in his tracks and chuckle in his face. "Trust me, Greyson is a lot of things but he's not as much of a fucking idiot as you are and knows when and when not to play."

Geez, mom. Pipe down a bit.

Oh, you shut up bitch. Might as well be their fucking mom being's though I practically raised them.

Am I seriously arguing with myself right now?

I continue walking downstairs and immediately stop in my tracks once I find the last vase mom brought completely shattered on the floor. I gasp and turn towards my fuck head brother and see him scratching the back of his neck with a "what do I do now?" look.

"Sei uno stupido fottuto idiota. Non puoi semplicemente crescere per una volta? Questa è stata l'ultima cosa che la mamma ha comprato e tu vai a romperla? Papà ti ucciderà," I yell in my mother's tongue, making his eyes widen and him step back as I walk towards him.

[You're a stupid fucking idiot. Can't you just grow up for once? This was the last thing Mom bought and you just go and break it? Dad is gonna kill you.]