𝑱𝒂𝒙𝒐𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒍
GLASS SHATTERS ALL over the wooden floor of the kitchen to this apartment. We step inside, trying our best to keep quiet as to not wake up a soul. If we do, our mission will not be complete.
Desmond beside me starts inside. This is an open apartment with the kitchen and living room in one. Desmond starts to raid the open kitchen in search for something.
We've been given a job to kill this man who had betrayed our Mafia by leaking information to another. But him and only him.
His wife doesn't need any harm given.
"Hey." Desmond whisper hisses at me from the kitchen cupboards. When I turn he holds a black dildo with thick veins in his hand proudly, "look what I found."
Oh Jesus.
He waves it around with a massive smile on his face as if he just won a competition. "Hey! Stop waving it around and let's get the job done." I whisper hiss back. I will not have my position taken from me because of a failed job because someone wanted to wave a dildo he found around like a fucking flag.
God knows who's ass that's been up in.
He shoves it back in the drawer he found it in and continues to search the room. Our mission is not only to kill this man but to find the evidence he has on us. So we're lucky one of our spies reported that his wife is currently out on a girls trip before we came here tonight.
My eyes roam the room until they land on a console table under a TV hung on the wall. The console table has drawers for storage. My legs carry me over and my hands automatically go to slide one draw open.
A strong smell reaches my nose, causing my head to snap in the hallway leading to the bathroom and bedroom where our target is located. Searching for any sign of consciousness. No light under the door flips on and no sound of footsteps are heard.
But a light flicked on behind me, catching my attention. Desmond stands behind me with a lighter in one hand while his other covers the flame from going out.
He feels my eyes on him which stuns him to a sudden stop. "What?" He shrugs with an unlit joint hanging from his bottom lip.
Rolling my eyes I hiss at him, he's obviously not taking this mission seriously. "Put that thing away." If I don't, my future position will be stripped away from me. And I want it more than anything.
He groans, pocketing his lighter in his back Jean pocket and keeping his joint in a small metal case. I open one drawer to the console table and found newspapers and pens. I open the second and find a lighter and some paper clips. Then I pull the third one open which reveals a stack of papers with clipped photos.
Bingo!
I bring the stack out from the drawer and close it. "I've found it." I inform Desmond who's chugging milk from the fridge. Unbelievable.
I look over the papers, noticing the notes written down are what we're doing with a photo to follow. In this picture, we were at a dropout receiving guns from sector twelve. My father has thirteen sectors in total which is also the biggest Mafia in the world.
"Let's go finish the job then." Desmond actually says something useful that I agree with. He goes first while I follow behind.
He pulls out his gun but before he opens the door but I'm quick enough to cover it with my hand. Is he stupid? We can't use guns on this mission since we're in an apartment complex; it will draw attention. He looks at me sceptically as I shake my head. I go first, knife in hand, I make my way inside.
He's asleep. The covers are draped over his naked figure. Hair covers most of his body and it doesn't look appealing. As much as body hair is natural, I hate it. I shave everywhere once they grow back. That's how much I hate my own body hair. Sleeping next to him is a blonde who's also naked.
Cheating cunt.
"Fuck man," Desmond beside me mumbles in shock. "He's cheating."
I nod, "Good eyes."
I can feel him stand straighter, proud of himself for stating the obvious, "Thank you." I shake my head at his stupidity.
"Take a picture." I order. We'll have to show his wife she was better without. I hear his phone take the picture so when he keeps it I walk over to the girl and search the draws of the bedside cabinet. I know he keeps sleeping pills in his bedside cabinet because the sick fucker likes to fuck his wife while she's asleep. Coming across the sleeping pills, I drug her with a hand over her mouth, forcing her to swallow. When she does I gesture toward the man beside her and Desmond takes him out. Slashing his throat causing blood to spew out of his mouth.
"Ew." Desmond says, not bothering to be quiet anymore.
MY HEART THUMPS in my chest; excitement crawling it's way up my throat at the beat of my adrenaline. My footsteps are heavy the quicker I walk down the hall. My father ordered to see me for a matter... a matter of what is a question. That's what's got my adrenaline kicking.
When I reach his office door, I knock and patiently wait for permission.
"Come in." a man calls out from behind the door.
Entering, I close the door behind me and turn to face the man who's sat behind a desk with floor to ceiling windows behind him. In the corner of the room is a small section of sofas that face a fireplace which has been lit. The only source of light given is the fireplace and a small lamp on his desk. The light illuminates the sharp features that we both share. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Have a seat, son." he gestures to one of the arm chairs that face his desk like he's at the headmasters office.
Doing as ordered, I take a seat and cross my arms while my legs are spread. I was told that 'the boss' wanted to see me. The boss is my father, which makes me his heir. I'm the heir to the Carnell Mafia. I've proven to my father that I'm capable of being a mafia leader; I've killed, tortured, shagged, drugged and so on. I've done all my assignments given without a problem. So I was surprised when word reached me from one of our men that 'the boss' wanted to see me.
He pulls out a black file with my name in gold cursive writing on the cover. Father always wanted to be extra and this is one example of him being extra because of his wealth and social status. To the world he's a fashion designer, his work soon to be passed down to me, but behind the curtain of lies is the biggest mafia known to man. Talking about father being extra, he also likes tradition: Arranged marriage and a ceremony that has to be done to claim them officially as ours. I've never been to an heirs ceremony because only the leaders of each sector are allowed to witness. Our great grandfather made that tradition and his reason for it was that our Mafia is one of the biggest in the world that we've sectioned it around the country; we even have some bases outside the country.
But once I'm leader, they will all bow to me. Because, though we have all these different sectors around the country, I'm the heir to the biggest. The main.
He takes a picture out of the file and slides it across the dark wood. "This, my boy, will be your wife."
When all the heirs were fifteen, we were made to take an oath, knowing that some of us won't make it out to leadership and end up in death with the mission father gives us. When that happens their mafia will collide with the biggest. AKA: mine. When all remaining heirs had survived the first part at seventeen, we were rewarded with marriage and sex on the wedding night.
There are no rules for us heirs once we have ourselves a wife. In the wedding the wife will willingly vow to belong to us, then they're ours. We can share her or borrow her to anyone but if they step out of line they are to be punished. Basically they become the heirs sub just with no limits and we can do what ever the fuck we want with them.
"No." Though heirs normally get to choose who their soon-to-be is, it doesn't seem to look like it at this moment.
His same sea blue eyes as mine stare back at me. His same sharp jaw as mine is clenched. I look more like him than my older brother ever did; and he hates that fact. He had my oldest sister when he got into power which was at nineteen. He wasn't happy that she wasnt a boy and decided to try until he got a boy to be heir. It took him four tries to get a boy, my brother, who is now dead. He had my other sister before he had me at thirtyone and then stopped fucking anything that moved when he had my youngest sister four years later. I like to compare him to Henry the 8th only with fewer wives. Henry the 8th had six Wives, my father had three.
He's fiftythree present time, wanting to retire and pass down the mafia.
I turn my head toward one of the floor to ceiling windows. The view is dark, probably because it's late at night, black SUV's are parked around the fountain and the gate is closed. When I turn back to him, I word my sentence differently, "She's not my wife."
"She is. You don't get to choose. You may have heard that heirs get to but not heirs like you. You don't get a choice." She's three years younger than me and still attending college. She had started her first year when I started my last. All Mafia children from our Mafia are assigned to a private school. I've seen her in the corridors but never spoken to her. I had no reason to. Plus she was always on her own ignoring everyone and giving dirty pissed off looks to people.
Sighing at my fathers face I pick the picture back up and look at it. She sits at the college library with a book in hand and sushi laid in front of her. She's so into her book that she's oblivious to the fact that someone is watching her and taking pictures of her. From what I can see she wears a hoodie too big for her and her hair is down in a wavy state.
"No. Why her?" I whine, shaking my head. "She's...
"Are you denying me?" My father asks, tilting his head to the side. Disobeying someone in a higher status from you could mean several things including death.
"No, sir."
"Good. We will be visiting in three days and the weddings in four days." He orders, standing from his seat.
"Yes, sir." I also stand. Then I turn and exit his office, knowing I have no way out of this mess unless I move what I've planned for my father sooner. He'll have a lovely retirement...
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Sorry for the wait!
I've been glued to The Ritual 🤭🤭