𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐙
"Andrés?" I call out, roaming through the halls of an almost never ending mansion. The white walls and shiny black marble floors blinding my half awoken self. Technically speaking, I should be used to the fact our family house is so big, but considering I'm stuck on the first floor and rarely make an appearance on the ground floor, unless it's for food, it's not that hard to understand that it's possible for me to get lost.
"Andrés I'm not repeating myself again, dónde estás!" I can feel my anger rise, I don't do well with repeating myself no matter who you are. Why have ears if you don't use them appropriately? (translation - Spanish. "Where are you?")
Next thing I know, a body collides with mine which causes me to slightly lose my balance . I look up to see who was so idiotic for not watching where they're going, only to see the exact same copy of my green eyes looking straight down at me. "Andrés, tu coño, watch yourself," I seethe, knowing that the tiniest bit more of strength put into that coincidental push would've had my ass flying on these slippery floors. (translation - Spanish. "You cunt")
"What did you want that bad that you resorted to screaming at me and damn near waking the whole house up at such early hours?" my brother raised an eyebrow in somewhat confusion however annoyance was evident in his voice. His messy bed hair and purple under eyes confirmed my theory that he only just woke up. I rolled my eyes and turned around, in which I heard loud footsteps trailing behind me, following.
"Papá said we have to go to the drug cartel, a delivery is due from Italians. And you, need to get ready." When we make it to his room I turn around, looking up to my older brother. "I'm not making a fool of myself because you take too long to get dressed." I poke my finger into his chest and then push him into his room. Hoping he takes that as a sign to stop moping around. In return, I hear him mutter a whatever after he's closed his door which only makes me roll my eyes once again. He was a real pain in the ass at the most inconvenient times.
I wander down to my room and strip out of my pyjamas just to immediately slip on a black skin tight jumpsuit and zip it up, up until my breast area. I walked in front of my full length mirror and quickly slicked my hair back into a ponytail, making myself look presentable enough to receive a drug delivery. A seventeen year old taking care of drugs? It's a yes in my book.
I took the extra time I had on my hands to admire myself and the small features that probably not a lot of people notice unless up close. Little scars scattered my body, more specifically on my chest and arm area. If you looked close enough, you could also see my stretch marks lining my breasts, which once again remind me of what a pain they are for my back every single day.
"How ironic is it that you tell me to hurry up yet you're the one admiring yourself in the mirror?" Andrés appears in my doorway dressed and ready, which disrupts me from my thoughts. Surprisingly it only took him 20 minutes, 5 minutes shorter than usual. I raise one of my eyebrows at him whilst looking at him through the mirror and open my mouth to shoot a reply back to his snarky comment, however he quickly cuts me off. "Before you say anything I'm going to the car, don't shout at me." He scurries off which just leaves me in a much better state, my morning started off horribly which took a massive toll on my mood. It doesn't help that when I went to the bathroom, I was greeted with blood everywhere, even though I'm on birth control my periods are still very much the same, not even effected the tiniest bit.
Getting myself together, I make it downstairs and ensure I've gathered all the necessary items if things indeed went wrong and I'd have to handle yet another aggravating Italian. They were a massive pain in the ass not only towards the Spanish but towards many other mafias as well, they didn't know when to stop but considering they were such good suppliers for drugs, they were somewhat respected.
Except from me. They don't deserve my respect, they haven't earned that privilege yet.
I slipped my 6 inch knife into the band wrapped around my waist and accompanied it with a small pistol. This life meant having to be prepared for the worst even on the simplest missions, sadly my mother didn't understand that and is now laying on her death bed, waiting for what she thinks will happen - the angels will take her. Too bad this family is going to hell with satan himself.
♠
"Te ves como una puta," my older brother decides to comment, as to which I just send him a glare whilst I slide into the Mercedes. "Papá would kill you if he saw you walk around like that," he gives me a side eye to which I ignore when I buckle my seatbelt. "I suggest you watch the way you speak to me, I'm in charge of you. Two words to my men and you're dead." I answer calmly but still burn my eyes into the side of his head whilst he starts the car. "Anyways, I don't need permission from anyone on what I can wear, regardless of how much cleavage I show." I spit. I hate males, even though I know he didn't have any harsh intentions, it still pissed me the fuck off. (translation - Spanish. "you look like a whore")
He laughs.
Andrés laughs.
It wasn't even funny, and he's laughing.
"Mátame entonces princesa de la mafia" his voice full of humour. I squint my eyes at him. 10:00 am wasn't the best time to be laughing right before handling business. "Conducir a un imbécil" I say, already annoyed at his somewhat childish comment. (translation - Spanish. "Kill me then mafia princess" || "Drive you imbecile")
♠
Around 15 minutes pass and during them all I did was look out the window. I didn't want to talk, I never genuinely want to anyway. From when I was a little girl, my parents believed there was something wrong with me. I never spoke, unless I was forced or I felt the need to, all the doctors and therapists my mamá took me to all said the same exact thing, "there's nothing wrong with her, she just doesn't want to talk." Yet my parents never stopped trying, not until I turned 9 and they finally gave up. My brother was the complete opposite of me all my life, when I was failing my classes, he was passing all of them with the highest grades, when I had basically no friends, he had a massive group surrounding him. Yet I never complained, I always believed having no friends was better, at the end of the day all they are, is a weakness. And living this life, you can't have a weakness, it can get you killed.
"We're here Anna." Andrés suddenly says, interrupting my thoughts. I nod at him without looking in his direction and make a move to get out the car, as to which he stops me. "Adrianna, please don't kill or injure an Italian again, we'll be cut off. We can't risk that, papá wouldn't like that." He frowns down at me. He truly didn't understand my reasoning for my previous kill no matter how many times I went over it with not just him, but with the majority of my close family. "I'll tell you this once again Andrés, I didn't kill just for the fun of it, he was trying to scam us yet you was too distracted by the Italian don's daughter. If you was paying attention, you would've realised." I hated the fact that he blamed me, I was the one who had the whole family's back and yet he's still oblivious to that fact.
And with that conversation over with, I step out the car and am greeted with a slight breeze. I heard a slam of the car door, indicating that my brother had got out the car as well. My heels clack against the floor as I make my way to the building. "It really isn't you if you don't wear high heels at the most inconvenient times is it Anna?" My brother releases a sigh in which I turn around to face him and squint my eyes. "And it's never you if you don't make such stupid comments at the most inconvenient times is it Andrés?" I snap back, clearly not in the mood to allow him to continue irritating me. He rolls his green eyes and I truly hope one day they get stuck there.
We get interrupted, even though there was nothing to interrupt, by the Italians getting out of their SUVs, carrying 3 duffle bags, each one filled with the same white powder. My brother and I greet them with a simple nod of our heads, and I step forward to shake the head of what seems to be the Italian don's son. He truly was the spitting image of his mother, such a shame she's dead.
"Adrianna," his Italian accent is thick as he takes my hand in his to place his lips upon my knuckles, as to which I snatch my hand out of his grasp. "No need for touches Lorenzo, keep your hands and lips to yourself. You know how I work." I sneer, his eyes showing a hint of grimace. Good. "Tell your men to hurry up, I don't have all day." I continuously tap my foot onto the concrete beneath it, growing inpatient.
A sudden sound from around the side of the building catches my attention. I look around, everyone who was meant to be here was in their spots. My brother was talking to the Italians, and the capo's son was near the car, waiting for his men to finish up. This perked my curiosity further, making me want to investigate. In which I did.
My feet carried me round to the corner of the building, in which I was met with a tall, muscular body which had a pair of lifeless grey but also blue eyes, but every other facial feature was covered with a black balaclava. You could sense power radiating off him, and that took me by surprise, most men in this world didn't carry as much sense of superiority around with him. And just that small amount of information, more like an assumption, I gathered he was an assassin, a very powerful one at that. My hands immediately reached out to the pistol which was tucked into my band. He was an intruder, a very random one and intruders are destined to be killed.
However, he was too fast. One lift of the sniper in his hand, he managed to aim a perfect headshot at one of the Italians, this was the one time in my 17 years of living where I was genuinely shocked. It took him only the time of 10 seconds to spare me no glance, shoot, and escape.
Havoc erupted around me.
Screaming.
Running.
All of it.
"Qué coño Adrianna?" My brother's Spanish accent could immediately be recognised whilst he shouted. "Lo prometo no fui yo," I replied to his vulgar words with a stern voice. Andrés instantly ran to me and began blaming me yet he didn't know anything that happened, for gods sake I don't even have that good of an aim. (translation - Spanish. "What the fuck" || "I promise it wasn't me")
Who the fuck was he and what business did he have with the Italians?
♠
first chapter is finished, and I'm honestly quite happy with it. I think it was a good start and wasn't that boring, I wanted to include as much as I could without rambling on💀
I made a TikTok, a video has already been posted and includes a minor spoiler for a scene in my book, more will be coming. User is sultrylover
next chapter will be posted before next Monday x