Teddy Bear I
Alejandro's POV
"Bere." (Drink)
I shake my head for the third time, forcing the smile on my face for the sake of the man sitting before me at the round table. But Silvio still pushes the glass of whiskey towards me, not listening to me like the stubborn man he is.
My foot starts impatiently tapping underneath the table, and I take a deep breath to calm myself down.
I wasn't one to drink on the job, but when I did, it was for a valid reason.
A valid reason would be needing to take the edge off before I had to give someone a good beating.
A valid reason would be needing to calm myself down before I lashed out and made any rash decisions. Decisions that were irreversible.
A valid reason would be celebrating a new multi million dollar deal, one that would benefit me and my familglia.
And in those cases, a glass of rum, a bit of scotch or even some bourbon would suffice.
But a meeting with the only man alive who worked alongside my father in building this mafia to discuss alliances, was not a valid reason.
I had already downed the first glass out of common courtesy but he wouldn't let up.
And at this rate, he'd have me drunker than a sailor and knocked out before I even made it home.
If there was one thing I lacked, it was the ability to be a good drunk.
I grew soft, needy, emotional, and somehow since I was never satisfied with those needs being met, I substituted it with the need to feel someone.
I was a horny drunk, but it was more about wanting to form a connection than getting my dick wet.
It was the only time I was emotionally invested in wanting affection, intimacy and sex all together.
Which is why I push the glass aside and focus on the man infront of me.
Silvio Ademaro was younger than most would think. But he'd been there through the entire rise of the Gonzalez mafia and was currently running our business that spanned the east coat of America - New York to be exact.
He hands me a cigar, one I happily take as I lean back and light it. "Aurelio couldn't go an hour without some whiskey and look at you-his son, refusing a glass. You're nothing like your father."
"Good." I lean further into my chair and cross my legs as I peer out onto the vineyard. I wanted to be nothing like my father. And the more my life grew complicated, the more I despised him for putting me in these positions.
Silvio throws his head back and laughs while I begin to grow impatient.
Business never took long. It was always in and out, a fast exchange that either ended in celebratory drinks and handshakes or one that ended in gunfire and blood.
But Silvio was highly respected and somewhat old school with how he discussed business.
You meet up, catch up, talk about life, family, drink, smoke and then at the end of the night if things felt right, you would bring up business.
It was a horrible way at getting things done and had he not practically raised me, I would never even consider wasting my time.
So if he wanted me to sit here and listen to him speak about matters I didn't give two shits about, then I would, because I respected him.
"Your nonna came to the hotel a few weeks ago. Said something about visiting Sebastian's girl." Despite living in New York, he always found a way to stay in tune with everything going on. "How is she, now that Laura's gone?"
I take a long drag of my cigar, and take my time to respond. "She's good."
I can feel his attentive gaze, "She as beautiful as Aurelio said she'd be?"
A muscle in my jaw ticks, as I glance away from him. "Not my type." I brush off, resentment coating my words, and although Silvio isn't the one responsible, I still felt the need to spite him. Them.
And although I didn't have a type, Camila was slowly altering my preferences to the point where all I wanted in a woman was dark hair, vibrant blue eyes, and a bratty attitude hiding behind a sickly sweet smile.
"Okay, okay." The man's hands go up in defence as he laughs. "Just remember that I'm nothing like your papà either." And yet, as the conversation veers away from her, my mind doesn't.
She's been the only thing taking up this much space in my mind these past few days and I don't know how to feel about it.
She's stopped acknowledging me all together.
Never talking to me, glancing at me or even paying me any mind. Yet none of it was out of spite or hate and that was the worst part.
She was distancing herself from me, and I could do nothing but sit back and allow the one person that I seemed to seek comfort in pull away.
Christo, why did Camila Rodriguez of all people have to be the person I wanted to selfishly have?
Either it wasn't fair or the universe was trying to test just how much of a fucked up man I could be if I indulged in someone I couldn't have.
You can have her.
No. I couldn't. I wouldn't.
It was beyond twisted for so many reasons, and I hated myself for not only allowing things to go so far but growing emotionally attached to her.
I hadn't thought it'd grow to be this much of a problem when I first laid eyes on the girl dressed in silk. It was easy to stay away from her then. She was nothing but an annoying nuisance, one that was too young and naive, wanting nothing but attention.
But now, now I knew she could be sweet, I knew she could be considerate and caring. And now, I cared far too much about her, beyond the promise I'd made to protect her.
It took everything in me to stop myself from indulging any further that night. I was already going too far with the girl by sleeping in the same bed as her, multiple times. Touching her would only further complicate things especially when she didn't know what she was truly getting into.
She'd hate me if she knew.
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