Song : The Weeknd - Wasted Times (Slowed+Reverb)
Rocco
I officially know that now, all I want to do is kill my father.
Kill him for making me sign that stupid fucking contract, and kill him for threatening me. Of course he would, because there's no way I would do it otherwise.
I run my hands through my hair and sigh out in frustration.
I've never stared like that before, and I'm never going to again, but there's just something so... innocent about her.
I don't give a fuck, whatever type of husband she was expecting, she's not going to get it. She can't be attached to me like that because she's only going to break her own heart when she finds out that I don't give a shit about her.
I can't let her get into my head, or I'll do something stupid which will only disappoint my father, and God only know's I've done that too many times already.
I need to stay away, or something is going to happen that I'll regret, and I can't afford regrets at the moment.
I've never really cared for power, but if I want to rid myself of my father's influences, then I need to bust up my shit and prove myself worthy of becoming a leader. I can only handle so much toxic control, and twenty one years of that kind of abuse is enough.
I situated Mia's room far away from mine in the hopes that I can keep my distance from her, avoiding any unnecessary contact.
I can't let myself get distracted. I have a business to run and a potential mafia to lead and I can't afford to be a softie just because of one stupid girl my father forced me to marry.
And that goddamn dog of her's.
I open the door to my office, which sits away from the other bedrooms, off to the left of the house near the big living room. It's convenient for me to easily just open the door and be in the living room because some nights I'm too tired to walk all the way up to my room on the other side of the apartment.
My office has those same floor to ceiling windows that offer me a wide view of the city. It's the late afternoon now, and the clouds have seemed to retreat from their place in the sky, allowing a light blue to spread and warm rays of late sun to filter through onto the floor.
I fall back onto the sofa and stare out of the window, watching the birds fly by, completely unaware of me.
I feel my phone vibrate against my back pocket and fish it out, bringing it up to my face so I can easily see the alert.
It's the security cameras that are located next to the entrance of the elevator. I press on the notification and a live feed pops up on my phone.
A girl. Her black hair is pulled up into a messy bun on the back of her head and she's trying to swipe the strands that have escaped, out of her face with one hand whilst holding that insufferable dog in her other arm.
From this angle of her face, I can easily see the frown settled upon her lips and her deep blue eyes seem distressed. In fact, all of whole body language shows she's distressed. Her shoulders are slightly slumped and the black hoodie she's changed into seems to be falling off one shoulder.
Her skin looks so soft-
I shouldn't be thinking about that.
I watch as she presses the elevator button and waits for the doors to open, absently patting behind the ears of her dog.
I'm so caught up in watching her that I don't notice her starting to walk into the elevator. Then she's disappeared from my view.
I exit the stream and press on the live recording for the inside of the elevator.
I don't even know what I'm doing, and it seems my hands have taken control of me without my permission.
I'm not supposed to be watching her, but I push the thought to the back of my mind and continue.
The elevator is now moving downwards, and she's leaning against the hand railing on the back wall. Her hoodie seems to be straight now, and she's no longer trying to push away her hair, instead letting it frame her face perfe-
No.
I exit the recording and throw my phone across the room. I can't be doing this. I only met the damn girl today and said exactly nine words to her.
I can't be doing this.
I have no idea where she's going, and I text Leonardo, making sure he keeps an eye on her just in case she get's herself into any unwanted trouble.
I have a bad feeling that she's quite careless.
I decide to research.
I know next to nothing about her and her family, and my father has only told me how this marriage was proposed by Carlisle Hayes, Mia's dad. Apparently he seemed pretty desperate for some unknown reason and my father took pity on him, deciding to take this as an opportunity to unite the families therefore eliminating them as a threat and potential enemy.
I still don't get why they chose marriage though. And to me. Matteo is easily eligible, even though he's older than me, but I don't see why that may cause a problem if this marriage is only of convenience, not love.
They could have easily called a truce or signed a peace treaty, but marriage? That just seems a bit odd.
I mean it's not uncommon, but still, from what I've heard of Carlisle, he seems pretty cunning.
There's something else going on, and I plan to find out.
I seat myself in my desk chair and turn on my computer, pulling up files and documents on the Hayes. Carlisle isn't the leader of the American Mafia, he's just a normal clan member.
Being the son of the Italian Mafia leader has it's perks which means I can access almost every file on necessary clan members within our Mafia and outside of it too.
That includes every other organisation and group down to the smallest, which contains only three families.
There's information about Elizabeth Hayes, Mia's mother and her brothers. Her mother left when she was only ten years old.
I click on Mia's personal file and read through the information, storing it all away in the back of my head.
Born on the fifth of April and nineteen years old.
So fucking young to be married.
There's not a lot about her that's useful to me.
My phone rings.
I pick up.
It's the front desk.
"What?" I hate it when they call me. It's always about useless clan members wanting to get a drink with me or invite me to a party, and frankly, I want nothing to do with it.
"Sir, there's a girl here claiming to be your wife. She says she has no way of getting back up to the top floor, and I wanted to-
"I'm coming. Keep her there." I end the call and get to my feet, cursing out as I walk through my apartment and towards the elevator.
When the doors open, I walk inside and press the button for the ground floor.
I had a feeling that this girl would be trouble, and she didn't even think about trying to ask me about getting back into the penthouse before she left.
I guess that's my fault I didn't tell her anything.
The doors open, and I walk to the front desk, already spotting Mia sitting on one of the armchairs that occupy a small table with a flower pot on the top. Where the fuck did they come from?
Remind me to get someone to throw them away.
When she sees me, she quickly stands up and grabs a bag from next to her feet, still holding that dog of hers. I swear they're inseparable.
I walk over to her and grab the bag from her hand, not paying any mind to her shocked expression from both her and the receptionist.
Looks like she finally decided to come into work today.
I make a mental note to fire her and get a new one.
Footsteps are following behind me as I enter the elevator again and press the button for the top floor, unlocking it.
We stand in silence, with her leaning against the back wall and me standing ramrod straight with her silly shopping bag clutched into my hand.
Maybe I shouldn't have carried it, because now I'm starting to feel like an idiot.
She's the first to break the silence.
"I think I'm going to need my thumbprint on that keypad so I can easily leave and come back." Her voice is so soft and silky, and I so much want to look at her, but I keep my eyes locked on the doors in front of me.
I can feel her eyes on my back.
I only nod my head in response, and I hear her sigh.
Nope.
"I need to go back home tomorrow to collect my things." She speaks again, this time slightly quieter, and I don't know why I hesitate.
I don't like the thought of her going back to that house.
Wrong. I just don't want to talk.
"Leonardo will take you." I reply.
She doesn't say anything else, and when we reach the top floor, I step out, dropping the bag on the floor and heading to my office again.
I don't think I'll be sleeping in my bed again.
I don't bother looking back at her as I walk away.
Thoughts?
How do you all like Rosso's POV?