Chapter 3 3

I wasn't surprised when my parents arranged a marriage for me. It's highly common. My parents were arranged to marry, and they've been together ever since. In a loveless marriage, till death do them part. What a shitty way to live.

I was fucking angry about having to marry some girl. A fucking Italian girl to top it off. There's nothing wrong with Italian girls but she's in the mafia. What would she even be like? Would our marriage be entirely loveless like my parents? Not that I cared; I would just tolerate her and have my way with women behind her back. I'm sure she would do the same.

I wasn't even told of her name, what she looked like, or what she was like. But she was a woman. The boss of the Italian mafia. How could that be? Women are weak and too emotional. She would be the destruction of the mafia. I chuckled at how the most fierce and depraved mafia in the world would fall at her hands. Everyone knows only a man can run a mafia.

Perhaps she was put in charge because her father had no sons. But that was quite irresponsible on his part. Still, I would have thought he would have passed it down to a man. Regardless if he was bloody or not.

I am Chase Rodriguez, the boss of the American mafia. At seventeen, I was handed the mafia to control and to make it the most dominant in the world. Now, at twenty-five, I live a lifestyle that involves drinking, drugs, and women. My mafia duties were not neglected. I was known to be ruthless and unforgiving. Step in my way, and that's the last thing you'd ever do.

That doesn't mean I can't have fun. I glanced over at the brunette who lay asleep in my bed. I didn't even know her name. I didn't even care. If I'm getting married, I may as well have some enjoyment before I have to settle down in a miserable fucking life. Fucking hell.

"You do know you are getting married, right?" My younger brother walked into my bedroom unannounced. He eyed me with a bored look. Fuck, why would I care? It's not like I chose this woman; it's not like I wanted this, and as a mafia boss, I had a certain reputation to uphold-a bad reputation.

I scowled as I rubbed my eyes. "Get out, Kendrick," I growled at him; his presence irritated me. More so because he was free to choose whomever he wanted to marry and I wasn't. The fuck would my parents even agree to this. All for some fucking alliance. Fucking hell, I could just take the Italian mafia if I wanted to.

The woman beside me on my bed stirred and blinked her brown eyes wide open. For a second, she looked petrified upon seeing Kendrick standing by the door. She looked towards me in hopes of some sort of comfort, but I had none to offer.

"Leave," Kendrick ordered as he held the door open with a hand. The woman quickly gathered her clothing and left the room in just her underwear. I groaned as I lay tangled in my bedsheets. The deep yellow glow of the sun threatened to spill into the room and did so when Kendrick kindly pulled open the curtains.

"Fuck." I groaned as the light hit my pupils, waking me up entirely. Kendrick smirked, running a hand through his dark hair, and rolled his shoulders. He was a fucking idiot half of the time, but he was a decent man. He was repulsed with the way women threw themselves at me, and I let them. How I used them for my benefit and pleasure. That's all I knew since Father did the same to Mother and Mother; she pretended to be the virgin Mary when she could give the devil a run for his money. My dearest brother followed in my footsteps, but he was more reserved.

"The Italian woman is coming tomorrow, so clean up your act," Kendrick remarked as he eyed my messy bed, the corners of his lips twitching into a grimace. "Who even let you in?" I asked as I sat up frustrated with my lax security.

He grinned, showing his white teeth, while he leaned against the wall, both hands in the pockets of his trousers. "I'm a likeable person. Anyone would let me in." He smiled softly. That was indeed true; his personality exuded friendliness. A trait I did not have. After all, a mafia is no place for weakness. And I have none.

Kendrick left the room a short while later, after my ears bled listening to him drone on and on about being a good husband. I took a quick shower and got dressed in casual sweats and a T-shirt.

Heading to my gym, I took some time to run on the treadmill to feel my body burn some energy. My house was big with five floors and had everything I could possibly want and need. The luxury of being a powerful mafia boss. I worked hard to get what I had, and no marriage was ever going to destroy that. No woman would ever destroy what I've built.

"How are you feeling about meeting the girl tomorrow?" Rodney asked, his deep voice laced with a very subtle Italian accent. I stopped running and looked towards my best friend and loyal guard. "I don't give a fuck." I said without hesitation. Why is she the hot topic on everyone's lips?

Rodney looked almost disappointed, running a hand through his curly brown hair, his matching eyes glistening. "Would you at least try? You might find that you like her." He sighed. Perhaps he knew something I didn't. I shook my head as I drank from a water bottle, the water cooling me down. "Come on, you've known me all your life; that's twenty-four fucking years. When do I ever like women? They're nothing but a good fuck."

When I said those words, Rodney nodded subtly and rubbed the back of his neck. Perhaps I could settle down. But it would take one hell of a woman to convince me otherwise. I'm not sure what to think. I like the life I have already.

I walked over to a punchbag that was strung up and began to beat it mercilessly. My punches were controlled and accurate, as I imagined breaking someone's jaw and cutting their air supply with a single sharp blow to their neck.

"Your parents are here." Rodney rushed the words out as he watched my muscles stiffen. Fuck me. "Who let them in?" I scowled as I flexed my hands. "Your brother." He stated as he took a few steps back, already knowing how pissed I was.

"That little shit," I growled as I grabbed a white towel and wiped the sweat that covered my neck and forehead. I made my way towards the living room, not caring for the state I was in. My parents can be insufferable at times; my mother especially knows how to wind people up.

I saw my parents in the brightly lit living room. Mother wore a cream-coloured dress as she sat on the white sofa, her legs crossed and her back straight as a pole. Father smoked a cigar as he stood by the window. He was a tall, dark man. A good man and a decent father.

"Chase darling." Mother smiled upon meeting my gaze. Her soft brown eyes met my dark-as-coal ones. She stood up and sat back down as she decided against embracing me. I doubt she would want to ruin her dress with her son's sweat despite not seeing me for several weeks now. "Son," Father greeted as he continued smoking.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I crossed my muscled arms. Fuck, I was irritated. I couldn't spend the day alone; no, the whole family had to come and laugh at my situation.

Father chuckled lowly, a husky, deep sound. Mother's smile disappeared; she hated anyone talking back to her. "We just wanted to see how you were feeling. You know about the whole marriage thing." Mother smiled, her blush pink lips pulled tight. "You know how I feel?" I scoffed, feeling very amused. "I'm against it. I do not want to get married." I stated clearly. Father walked towards me and stopped just a few feet away.

"I do not care. You will marry the girl. Our reputation depends upon it. This alliance is the best thing to ever happen." Father growled deeply, his fingers gripping his cigar tighter. "So you will shut the fuck up and do as you're told. I didn't raise an insolent son... or I will hand the mafia to your brother." He added. He was threatening me, and his threats were never empty.

Kendrick spluttered out his drink as he stood silently watching in the room. "But I do not want it, father." He gulped and wiped his lips of alcohol with the back of his hand. I could tell he was shitting himself. He never wanted the mafia.

Father's nostrils flared out in a rage, and if steam was visible, I have no doubt it would be coming out of his ears right now. "If you do not marry the girl, you will take over Kendrick. Or so God help me, I will personally murder you both and give it to someone worthy. Perhaps even this Italian girl." He scoffed to himself.

I narrowed my eyes at my father. Surely he wouldn't. Kendrick nodded and took another sip of his drink. He held back his tongue because he knew it was pointless. I have no choice but to marry. This is my mafia. Not fucking Kendrick's and not father's.

Father stared at me, awaiting an answer. I'm not stupid. "Very well," I answered, agreeing to it. Father cracked a smirk as he patted my shoulder. "That's my son."

Soon after, my parents both left to return to their homes. I took a seat on the edge of the coffee table and gestured to Rodney with my hand. He handed me a cigarette, which I lit up using his lighter. I inhaled the bitter smoke as I attempted to calm my rage. Everything will be fine.

"I'm sorry," Kendrick said as he looked down at me, still from across the room. It's not his fault; my life was written the day I was born. A life of having everything and nothing.

I reassured Kendrick that I would do the right thing. If not for his sake, for my mafia's sake. I had a hunger for power, and that woman had power. I wonder if maybe one day I could slit her throat and take over her mafia. It would be rightfully mine after all. She would be mine.

That night I tossed and turned in my empty bed. Sleep did not want to find me. I was beyond agitated. Fuck, I did not want this. Fuck fuck. But it wasn't the worst thing I could think of. Maybe it would be all right.