TRAPPED

TWENTY ONE

Yes, David and I have the most dangerous rivalry, but we aren't just business rivals as people might think. He is the next in command of the Italian Mafia, and I am the heir of the American Mafia. Most people are unaware of this because, until now, my father has been in command. I have a year to prepare to take the throne. I have to step into my father's name, Salvatore Sinclair, which is my mother's name, taken for my business. After assuming control, the entire nation will be introduced to the new Mafia in line—Salvatore Sinclair Tereso.

It's been two days since the chaos, and my hands ache with the desire to pummel the soul out of whoever dared to look in my direction. I have to admit, my brain is cunning enough to believe I've identified the real person behind this. However, I have a nagging doubt that he's not acting alone; someone is giving them instructions.

They are currently receiving their treatment in my basement, and after attending a few parties, I plan to unleash my fury on those wretched minions for their lives.

I enter a hall filled with mafia figures exuding nothing but luxury. I spot my father sitting in his chair, commanding their right for some work. If I'm not mistaken, he has some business in this party. I know my dad is the most cunning man; he never wastes his time on these kinds of gatherings without a purpose.

At the parties, he always has something on his mind, so his presence here indicates that there's more than meets the eye. I can sense a certain tension in the air, and the prospect of some bloodshed excites me the most.

I glance at my father, and he nods at me, signaling that he's free to talk. I've learned most things from my father, but my mother is an innocent soul, always a treat for my father who must protect her at all times. Every spot poses a threat to her, which is the reason she can't attend any parties. My father is a cruel man who cares for nothing but his business and throne, and I believe I'm a replica of him.

I moved to my father, and he nods to his fellows to leave. I hugged him in a slightly less fatherly hug.

"How have you been, son?" my father asks.

"Less bloody hand today," he chuckles at my answer. I've never been one for meet-up pleasantries.

"Oh, that's not so great, son. Enjoy the party," he says.

"Anything but enjoyable in this party, father," I look at him, amused at my response.

"I see my son has some interests. Be careful with playing," he walks away, fully aware of the recent incident. One thing about my father is that he never cared about my interests, and that's good for me.

I moved to the bar counter to get my drink. That's when I hear Raphael behind me.

"Alone today, buddy? No company for the party?" he questions.

I smirk at his inquiry, "No one questions me about company, Raphael. My party doesn't have to care about company, and for me, any girl can ditch her company and be ready to spend the night with me."

"Sure thing," he raises a glass to toast.

I glance around to inspect potential threats, Raphael by my side. When I sense a familiar scent, I mutter,

 "Violate." 

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