Chapter 6 - Mariano (1)

I get inside my G-Wagon and pause for a brief second, reeling from everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. This has got to be the most exhausting day in my entire life and the wedding is yet to happen.

I try not to think about Ree who is still at the hotel where I left her last night, but I keep wondering what's going on in her head at the moment.

Has she regretted it already? Does she want to run away? Because if she really wants to, she could. No one's guarding her door.

Of course, I'll have to chase her down if she does. We had an agreement after all.

Although I have these thoughts in mind, I trust that she's the kind of person who upholds her end of the deal.

The hotel told me that she hasn't eaten anything the whole day. I can't say I blame her because she's Don De Luca's daughter so it's only to be expected that she doesn't trust what's given to her. And I admit, I admire that she's not an airhead by not trusting the door that separated our rooms.

Jax reassured me that she was fine when he checked in on her around lunchtime, which was a few hours ago. He did mention that she was a little pissy about the wedding dress, but he didn't say why. And I wouldn't know until I see her later. Perhaps she's one of those girls who are very picky about clothes.

I turn on the engine and check the side mirrors, catching sight of the shoebox on the passenger's seat. I didn't have a lot of time to shop for more things since I spent the whole day driving in and out of the city, to the hospitals, and other places, so I only settled for a pair of shoes that hopefully goes well with her dress, and a pair of earrings that I think would look good on her. It's the least I can do, right?

My phone rings and I already know who's calling before I even see the name on my screen from the dedicated ringtone I set for my one and only asshole of a father.

"Where are you?" Marino questions as soon as I slide the green button. Not even a 'Hello' or a 'How are you?' or a 'Have you eaten?' — not that I'm expecting he would say something like that. Hell would freeze over before any of that could happen. I grip the wheels tightly, imagining I'm gripping his neck instead, but I keep my voice even when I answer.

"Just around. What's up?"

My father's sigh is a very familiar sign of him thinking: Why do I even bother with you?

"For one day, is it so hard for you not to fuck around? All you do is party and fuck some mediocre pussy. Fucking useless!" Marino spat.

Jesus, not this again. This is what I have to deal with on a daily basis. Him grating in my ears about how much of a disappointment I am because I'm unlike my psycho of a brother, Filippo, who does his bidding without a hitch, licking daddy's feet and ass—to gain daddy's approval.

Marino trying to call me out is ridiculous—and I say "try" because if he really knows me, he would know for a fact that the last time I "fucked around" was years ago.

I've been sober since the accident that night. But apart from the occasional one-night stands—which is quite forgettable, I might add—the only fun I'm having lately is whenever I'm planning about Marino's demise.

We have quite a lovely family, you see. Others may think we're tight for what we do, but the only tight in me are my muscles when I restrain myself from sticking a knife into my father's gut to shut him the fuck up.

But all in due time.

For now, I swallow my gripe and respond with nonchalance, "I'm throwing myself my own bachelor's party, father."

He doesn't know that I'm marrying Alessandro's daughter tonight because, for all he knows, the wedding that the council ordered is supposed to happen tomorrow—when my lovely family plans to attack Ree's family after the ceremony.

My father knows about my grandfather's decree—making me the new leader of the family once I get married. I didn't know my father knew until I opened Pandora's box and found out a lot of fucked up things about my precious family—more than what I already knew about.

Marino scoffs and then proceeds to ignore my statement. "Be here at eight. We need to leave at midnight and I'm not taking chances."

He expects to leave tonight so we can set the plan early for tomorrow's war—only, he doesn't know none of that is happening. He isn't even going to leave the house by midnight. I ignore him. "Is Fil back?" I ask to confirm so I know my plan is still intact.

"He'll be here." And then the line goes dead.

Great. Nice talking to you too.

And I just know, that would be the last phone call I'll ever hear from my father, ordering me around like I'm his property. That ends tonight.

Tonight, he will wish he treated me better.

Tonight, he will wish he simply wiped me off on a tissue or made one of his whores swallow me.

Tonight, he will wish he didn't spare me when I was twelve.

Just a few more hours until the Morelli household meets its new Master.