and expects nothing

Vicenzo De Angelis

I supported my hand letting all the contents spill onto the floor, she was mine too, she was what I couldn't have from him. And now, I have neither and neither man has a heart.
Stefano loved the sight of his pain and I?
I loved destroying every really good part beating in that heart by holding his face tenderly as he pulled our babies out of her womb, because she wasn't him, and none of them were worthy enough to bear a De Angelis.
I wiped the back of my hands over my lips, wiping away the bitterness of loss and the poison of envy as I remembered those dilated pupils asking to talk to Giovanni about the deal, the silky touch of his hand on my skin causing shivers that only he and she were capable of cause.
Goosebumps crept up my spine like an omen.
I strode to the SUV calling a smiling Dominus for the morning's gift, took the driver's seat pulling the car towards the center of town with my mind swarming with tortuous thoughts.
I reached the heavy traffic on the avenues at lunch time right in the center of New York, the silence inside the car, the people passing by. One moment in the middle of the city and the next entering the silent street of condominiums, stopping at a house far away, I went down accompanied by the soldier.
Pausing on the now-dead grass of the small garden, I walked to the back entrance, taking the key hidden in a false bottom of my wallet, grateful that no one was in the vicinity. I entered the dark house being greeted by the smell of dried blood, I walked down the hall towards the bedrooms, past the larger suite towards the bedroom, our bedroom, opening the door to find dust and mold covering the bed, floor and turning the immense painting towards the wall, his present, our present.
In the huge picture, the river of blood running through the fissure in the earth, the tiny bodies numbered in five, the small feet with names chosen by her. I made her choose while begging her to stop, while crying on her knees looking at the painting. The sentence painted by her shining in letters distorted by a white paint.
' The heart only serves to beat'
It was after that, after her gaze penetrated a few centimeters into the shadows of my mind, I tried to convince Stefano to kill her, deep down I could say that she deserved some rest with death, but that she only wanted to kill what she and he are capable of light up.
Even so injured, Doctor Alvez was still amazed at the capacity of that uterus recovering in a few months, ready to generate life again wanting to prevail amidst the darkness that took her more and more. It was only when I realized that the same darkness painted in Giacomo's eyes had taken over hers that I couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't stand having her and not having him, wanting her and hating her.
The desire for his screams while I was beaten until he miscarried, the times I stroked his hair and Alvez did his work, the medicine put in his food and the pain stamped when counting the five bodies, understanding taking shape in the mute scream trapped in his throat .
Her tiny body pinned against mine as she collapsed, the delicious smell of washed hair taking away any guilt over my decisions. I needed her alive, I needed her to be mine, to have something of mine and that meant not soiling the family's blood even though her blood was a gift coursing through her veins too strong to resist.
I walked to the dusty painting, caressing each imprint of her hands in black as I took her body from behind forcing her to look at the river intertwining our hands and marking the guilt for the blood shed, each drop of guilt etched into the painting.
Blame her for being Costello
Guilt for being his sister
My fault for wanting it
My fault for falling in love with both Costellos.
I rested my head on the painting reviewing the lifeless body lying on the floor, the marks of Stefano's hands mixing with the marks I painted on his body and the blond hair forming the most beautiful art that the monalisa herself and even in death to beauty, but only for her, for my Beatrice.
I left the same way I came in, my mind swarming until my head ached with spinning, I let Dominus drive around town aimlessly and when night came I pointed out into the streets towards the bar.
Staring at Tip behind the counter was nothing new except for the surprise in his eyes making it clear that none of them knew what had happened and only they had the location to deliver the cargo. I felt the twinge forcing itself again when remembering that they didn't go to the port to leave the weapons, but to the terminal with the indicated container number, even before the girls arrived, I tapped my fingers on the wood impatiently leaving the bar completely dissatisfied with the information useless from that heap of worn and filthy leather. May God have mercy on whoever took my merchandise.
Across the street a girl with long dark hair wearing leather pants fixed our gaze, I walked slowly to the car watching as I analyzed each of the passers-by as if looking for some danger. I ignored it getting into the passenger seat, I drew the gun turning back pointing at the girl's head at the same time that she sat in the back seat.
- Um..- stammered.
- What the fuck? - I brought the barrel closer, placing it against his forehead.]
- Dragon got a girl a few days ago she was in the compound.
- What the fuck do I have to do with this.
- He writes everything down in a notebook and hides it in the apartment. - I kept quiet trying to put together the pieces the crazy woman was talking about. - Nobody goes there, no bitch from the club goes there, he took her there.
I snorted pissed off, uncocking the gun for the girl's audacity.
- I don't have time for a bitch jealousy crisis.
- Not even if I mention that I saw an Italian going to get her at the compound after fucking Dragon all night in the apartment.- I clenched my jaw, finally pulling the gun away from the girl, displaying a sly smile on my face.
- Spit it out.
- Are you going to dump the girl? - I arched my eyebrow. - I want her dead.
I nodded in agreement with the jealous madwoman only to decide between killing her now or later.
- It was a man with honey colored hair I could only see at a glance when she opened the door, they had the same eye color.
- You really want to die.
- The two of them had eyes as dark as night.
And there the shiver was back, the tightness in the chest twisting all the entrails.
- What is your name? - I managed to speak with a calm that does not exist.
- Lucy - She replied smiling like a child getting candy.
- Should the club have cameras at the entrance? - He nodded positively. - Get the recording for me and I'll make sure to kill the bitch in front of you.
His eyes sparkled as he shook my hand sealing the deal, Dominus as agile as ever had already put the car in motion stopping at a traffic light far from the motorcycle club area and the girl hurriedly jumped out.
It couldn't be possible.
It was with that fucking thought that I arrived at the mansion ready to go crazy calling the contact and requesting a new shipment, walking into the lobby towards the office opening the door to find Giovanni mistreating Giulia again with the sight of the small child on top of the desk. wood waiting for orders while she is on her knees begging for the girl.
- Brother put the girl back. - I nodded towards the trapdoor hidden inside the office to store the mini bitch.
I look at the older bitch kneeling with red eyes almost grateful until I notice the intensity of my gaze on her naked body, the white skin reminding her skin awakening the desire to leave her as marked as Beatrice
- She's not marrying that little shit- I ignore his furious yell as he storms out of the office in a signal to be escorted.
When I hear the sound of the door, I turn towards her, analyzing her expression to think of the best way to play the words.
- Brother. - I rested my hand on his left shoulder squeezing a little. - In nine months Giulia will have another heir of ours, in that office there is a beautiful girl with golden hair and blue eyes.
- Where are you going with this shit?
I take a deep breath, lifting my hands to run through my hair as the nervousness grows, formulating something coherent.