*NOT FULLY EDITED*
Adelyn Laurent; the only child to the rulers of the French Mafia. Treated nothing less than a princess her whole life, she dreamt of travelling the world, escaping her father's strict gaze and starting her very own French Patisser...
"What the fuck Carlos?" Ophelia says in annoyance, "How the fuck do you only own vodka? Did it ever occur to you to buy another kind of alcohol?"
"Well then how about you bring your own alcohol next time you come over then?" Carlos replies sarcastically, smirking at the annoyed girl standing in front of him. "I might just do that," she says stubbornly. Carlos chuckles and hands her a bottle, "You do that then Fia," he says softly.
Fuck, he's so whipped.
It seems like Ophelia is too as her cheeks burn pink when Carlos call her the little nickname he made up for her and she turns to face Adelyn. "Cheers," they both say with the same amount of enthusiasm as they clink their bottles together and let the liquor pour down their throats.
Carlos gives me a sorry look before doing the same. Adelyn grins at me before lining up shot glasses, waving me over with her hand as she fills them up. "Don't be a bore," she whines, "Have a few drinks," she bats her eyelashes at me and I roll my eyes.
My wife has me wrapped around her finger and she knows it.
I walk over to the bar and watch as Adelyn stands at the other end of the line of shot glasses. "First one to the middle wins," she giggles, "You know you're gonna lose," I tease, but she simply dismisses me with a wave of her hand.
"Three...two...one...GO!" Carlos shouts, vodka spilling onto the carpet as he signals the beginning of our race with his bottle.
I immediately start grabbing the shot glasses one by one and flinging my head back as I take shot after shot, easily making my way to the middle before Adelyn. She soon catches up and stumbles into me, "Lightweight," Ophelia teases, laughing at her very tipsy cousin.
"Shut up," Adelyn glares at her cousin, her eyes shining, probably from the alcohol but also partly from the excitement in the air.
"Winner plays on?" Carlos suggests, refilling the shot glasses as he smirks at me. "If you want me to kick your ass," I laugh, the alcohol loosening me up more than I would've liked it to.
"You better win husband," Adelyn grins sloppily at me and I give her a wink, "Always wife," I grin back.
"Enough of this sloppy bullshit," Ophelia whines, "Hurry up and drink," she orders, and as soon as the words leave her mouth both me and Carlos start gulping down the shots as quickly as we can. I go to grab the middle glass but he wrenches it out of my hand and pours the liquor down his throat. "I win!" he laughs triumphantly, grinning at Ophelia who's now clapping for him.
I feel my senses getting weaker from the alcohol so I sit down, I need to be sober enough to look after Adelyn later tonight.
I watch as my wife dances with her cousin, both throwing back shots as if there'll be no consequences tomorrow morning, and part of me wishes I could do the same, but I promised myself years ago I would stop drinking.
I carry the addictive gene my Father passed on to me, and alcohol triggers and anger me too easily for my liking, something I never want Adelyn to see, and I fear that if I start drinking again I'll pass the gene onto our future children.
Carlos understands this, that's why he looked so apologetically to me when he first drank tonight, he knew I wouldn't drink too much but he felt bad for doing it himself. He tries not to drink around me, ever since I got alcohol poisoning a few years ago, I overdosed and almost died. After that it scared my family shitless so they put me into alcoholics anonymous for a year and I've been sober ever since.
I'm not letting myself slip up tonight, instead I can protect Adelyn from succumbing to the same fate I almost did.
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