The Missing Princess

17: Done

"Fanculo, Enzo! Che cazzo stai facendo?" (Fuck, Enzo! What the fuck are you doing?) I cried out as his tight and harsh grip on my arm started to hurt.

I was obviously powerless against my older brother.

I let out a cry and scream when he suddenly twisted my arm at an awkward angle and only stopped when we both heard a snap. FANCULO. My own brother fucking broke my arm!

Enzo let go of my now broken arm. I cried, but before I fell on my ass, he held the back of my shirt and supported me by my right shoulder.

"Now you know exactly what that boy feels." Enzo began to say.

"I am only going to say this once, Nicco. No one is allowed to hurt that sweet little girl, not even you or Alessandro; I won't tolerate it. Do you understand me?" He hissed in a warning tone to me.

I was still pathetically crying. But I don't think I'm crying because of my broken arm now.

What does that girl have that I don't?

Why couldn't I make him care and love me like how he cares and loves her?

I tried my best to be good at my academics, but I just don't have the same brain as Gio. I tried my best to be good at football, but he doesn't even know that I play. I tried my best to be good at the mafia, but I'm just not as skilled as Sandro, and he doesn't even trust me because he wouldn't even fucking let me in. No matter how many good things I did, he just never noticed or just plainly didn't give a flying fuck, and I thought that he was just busy being the Don of the Mafia or the CEO of our company. So I turned to trouble, and trouble became what I do best, because it seems like it's the only thing that makes him notice me; it's the only thing that makes him have a conversation with me; it's the only thing that makes him give a damn about me. So I just always get myself into any kind of trouble as much as possible for him to notice me.

I just want my big brother to notice me and care about me, that's all. Is that too much to ask?

But since that girl has been home, I realised that it's not because he's busy with the mafia or the company; he just doesn't really give a damn about me at all.

I'm done.

"Ho finito, Enzo." (I'm done, Enzo). I let out a heavy sigh while still sniffling, trying my best to blink back my tears, but it was almost impossible; my tears were like waterfalls.

"Che cosa?" (What?) He asked in confusion.

"I'm just done. Continue to punish me as you see fit; I don't care anymore."

I'm done trying to make him to notice me.

***

-Lorenzo Di Luca-

"I thought that finally having that big, genius brain of yours we'd finally get a lead on Papa. But we're still nowhere closer than we were sixteen years ago. Fottutamente inutile." (Fucking useless) I hear Alessandro irritably hissing while looking at Giovanni as he lay upside down on the sofa.

All that guy likes doing is killing and fucking.

"I'm a genius, yes, but I'm not a fucking magical wizard! It's hard to find someone who doesn't want to be found, especially after all the years that passed by. And this is Luciano Di Luca we're trying to find, not just some random hobo. Fottuto idiota." (Fucking idiot) Gio gritted his teeth, trying his best to ignore Sandro, who has been up his ass since he got home, and continue his work on his computers.

The two of them have been at it with each other for the past hour, but I was just in no mood to scold my two fully grown brothers. So I let them be.

I never imagined that I'd see this day, with Gio working alongside us, our principessa finally found after thirteen years, and the five of us finally together.