“You fucked up. Again.” I rub my fingers along my chin, leveling the stupid fuck in front of me with a glare that could have him burst into flames at any moment.
“I didn’t have a choice. The motherfucker had a knife in his hand.”
I lean forward, placing my elbows on my solid oak desk. “And you decided to shoot him? So, not only are you as dumb as you are ugly, but you’re a fucking coward, too.”
Jimmy wipes a palm down his face, his gaze cutting nervously from one side of my office to the other. Fucker can’t look me in the eye because he knows he screwed up big.
“How many times am I going to save your ass, Jimmy?”
“Alexius, man. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck sorry!” I slam my fists on the table as I stand, pens and books rattling on the flat surface as anger vibrates against my knuckles. “I am sick and tired of cleaning your goddamn messes.”
He bites the corner of his mouth, knowing better than to say another fucking word, but I can see the arrogance in his expression. Pompous fuck.
Nicoli walks in, followed by Maximo, who shuts the door so hard, if it were made of cheap wood, we’d be picking splinters from Jimmy’s back.
Nicoli stills in front of Jimmy, slanting his head to the side as he studies him. “This fucker is a special kind of stupid, isn’t he?”
“Calling him stupid is a compliment, brother,” I reply, without taking my eyes off Jimmy while he rubs his jaw, the scratchy sound of the pubic hair he calls a fucking beard grating against my spine.
“You two can’t talk to me like that.” Jimmy straightens his shoulders and puffs his chest like a motherfucking peacock.
“We can talk to you however the fuck we want, Jimmy.” Nicoli pours himself a glass of bourbon and loosens his tie before sitting down on the leather couch. Strands of dark hair touch his eyebrows, and those pussy-bait blue eyes of his have an extra twinkle in them.
I scoff at my brother. “Tell me I haven’t been waiting for you for over an hour because you had to drag your slut ass from the club.”
“What can I say, brother?” He shrugs and takes a swig of his drink. “I like pussy, and pussy likes me.”
“The sun hasn’t even set yet.”
“You can’t put a timestamp on pleasure, Alexius.” He lights a cigar, and a puff of smoke floats up to the ceiling, the smell of tobacco and spices instantly filling the room.
“Listen,” Jimmy starts. “I have places to be. So, if we can wrap this up, that would be great.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” I turn my focus back to him, and all I feel is disgust. With his cheap-ass leather jacket, and jeans hanging low around his hips, torn at the seams, he looks more like a street thug than a member of the Del Rossa family.
I round the table as I button my dark gray suit jacket, giving a slight nod in Maximo’s direction.
Maximo is a big motherfucker, and he towers over Jimmy as he slips in behind him.
“Tell your dog to back the fuck down.” Jimmy’s face remains hard and undeterred, but I see it in his mucky-colored eyes. The sliver of fear. The slight twitch of his eyebrow is a telltale sign that he’s nervous.
I twirl the gold ring around my middle finger and feel the branded DS symbol on its black plate. “You know why you haven’t gotten your ring yet, Jimmy?”
“Because I don’t kiss your dad’s ass.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong.” I straighten the lapels of my jacket. “The Sovereign ring is earned. It doesn’t matter who the fuck your father is. He could be the goddamn antichrist, and you still wouldn’t get one if you didn’t earn it with blood.”
Jimmy presses his lips together. “That’s why we’re here right now, remember? Because I got no problem spilling blood.”
I scoff at his ignorance, at the way his small fucking mind can’t fathom that a seat at the table of the Dark Sovereign isn’t a birthright. It’s not something you get simply because you carry the Del Rossa name. You have to be worthy of it, and Jimmy sure as fuck isn’t.
“I knew you’d be nothing but trouble the day my father said you were joining the family business.”
“I don’t care what you think, Alexius.” He steps up closer and squares his shoulders, thinking he can intimidate me when all it does is piss me the fuck off. “Just do what you’re supposed to do.”
My nostrils flare. “And what’s that?”
A smug grin tugs at his lips. “Clean my messes.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nicoli mutters in the background. “Alexius, don’t—”
I grab Jimmy’s arm, fling him to the side, and sink my fingers into the back of his neck before slamming his face against my desk.
“—do it,” Nicoli finishes his sentence and gulps down the rest of his drink.
“Who in the name of ever-loving fuck do you think you are?” I seethe as I press his cheek harder against the solid wood. “I will tear your goddamn spine out your fucking mouth and leave it for the crows to feast on.”
“You can’t kill me, Alexius, and you know it.” His lips are pursed as I squeeze harder, digging my fingers deeper into the sides of his neck. “I’m family, and laying a finger on me goes against our code.”
“And so is bringing shame upon this family, something you do simply by fucking breathing. Maximo,” I order over my shoulder, and he walks up behind me, placing my favorite fucking toy when it comes to playing with fuckers like Jimmy on the desk.
“Jesus. Fuck!” Jimmy spits with his pursed lips as I apply more pressure against his skull. “Alexius, you can’t do this.”
“You can’t tell me what to fucking do.”
“I’m your goddamn cousin.”
“Not by blood, you’re not.”
“I’m still family.”
“Only because Uncle Roberto decided to adopt your pathetic ass after his only son turned out to be a pussy. Little did he know what an epic fuck-up you’d be.”
Maximo grabs Jimmy’s arm and plants his hand on the desk, squeezing hard so the bastard has no choice but to open his palm and flatten his fingers.
“Alexius, fuck. This isn’t funny.” Jimmy thrashes against the hold both Maximo and I have on him, but it’s no use. He doesn’t even have the strength to fight one of us, let alone both. But since I love to be the one to cut through bone, I need Maximo to keep my scum cousin in place while I reach out and put my palm on the gold coil. The silver blade of the finger guillotine glints under the sharp light of my desk lamp, and Maximo pushes down harder as I force Jimmy’s middle finger through the hole.
“Alexius, is this necessary?” Nicoli stands and pours himself another drink. “Do you really want to stain your ten-thousand-dollar desk with this idiot’s blood?”
“Stop this…stop this shit right now!” Jimmy’s spit erupts from his mouth, his body rigid with fear.
Fear is such an ugly fucking thing—especially when it’s plastered all over a grown man’s face. It’s the one thing that separates the men from the pussies in this world.
“Alexius, please stop.”
“What words does a Del Rossa live by, Jimmy?”
“Stop, goddammit.”
“What words!” I yell.
“Never show fear.” His voice trembles, an apparent contradiction to what he just said.
“That’s right. Never. Show. Fear. Yet, here you are, practically pissing yourself.”
“What the fuck do you expect? You’re about to cut my motherfucking finger off!”
I lean down, bringing my lips closer to Jimmy’s ear. “Be glad you’re a part of this family. If you weren’t, this would have been your fucking head.”
“Alexius, please—”
I press down hard, and in that split-second of resistance as the blade hits bone, I close my eyes and force it down. It’s such a simple action, but the damage is…extensive.
My spine shivers with delight as the bone is severed. The crack of bone as it splinters away from the rest of his body sends a thrill down my spine. Paired with the screams of pain, it’s a fucking melody that soothes my need for blood.
Jimmy’s agonizing screams hit the ceiling and ripple off the soundproof walls. Maximo and I let go of him, and he slips to the floor clutching his bleeding hand, a pathetic display of a man who has no right to be a part of this family.
I pull a white handkerchief from my jacket pocket and wipe at the drops of crimson that cling to my palm. A severed finger bleeds like a motherfucker, and Nicoli was right. It’s staining my goddamn desk. But to me it’s fucking worth it.
“You motherfucker!” Jimmy cries, snot lapping over his lips while tears stream down his face.
Nicoli slips in next to me, swirling the alcohol in his glass tumbler as he watches Jimmy cry. “Well done, brother. You didn’t just ruin your desk, but a perfectly good carpet, too.”
“Like you care.”
He cringes after tossing back all the bourbon down his throat. “You’re right. I don’t care.”
“You’re going to pay for this,” Jimmy threatens through clenched teeth. “I will take that fucking ring of yours, and I’ll wipe my ass with it right before I shove it down your motherfucking throat!”
“Seriously, Jimmy?” Nicoli crouches in front of him. “Have you learned nothing here today?”
“Fuck you!” He cuts his glare from Nicoli to me. “And fuck you, you motherfucking cunt! You think because you’re the crown fucking prince, you’re better than me?”
“I don’t think. I know.” I toss the bloodstained handkerchief at his face, and he spits at it.
“All you are is a goddamn ass-kissing boy who jerks off every time he pleases his daddy.” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “And when your dad finally dies from that brain tumor the size of my fucking balls, I’ll get rid of all you cunts, I swear to God.”
My anger explodes, a nuclear fucking blast that shakes and demolishes my last thread of self-control.
Nicoli curses. “Alexius, don’t—”
I pull my gun, aim at Jimmy’s forehead, and pull the trigger like it’s part of my nighttime routine after dinner.
The gunshot shatters the air with a loud crack, and Jimmy’s body jerks with impact, the bullet going right through his skull. Blood oozes from the gaping wound as his body goes limp and slips down, hanging awkwardly to the side.
“—do that.” Nicoli sighs. “Well, shit. You killed him.”
“Fucker practically begged for a bullet.” I don’t even blink as I stare at Jimmy’s lifeless body, straightening my shoulders. “I think I’ve accomplished something today.”
“Really?” Nicoli lifts a brow. “How, pray tell, do you figure that?”
“That’s one less piece of shit this world has to worry about.”
“True. But now you have to worry about a fucking civil war in this family once everyone finds out you killed Jimmy. Uncle Roberto got real attached to this asshole after Rome left.”
“Rome is a fucking pussy and left because he doesn’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done,” I snarl. “If there’s one thing our uncle is good at, it’s raising scumbag cowards.”
“Couldn’t agree with you more, but if he finds out–”
“No one is going to find out,” I assure him, straightening the sleeves of my suit jacket.
Maximo crosses his tattooed arms, and the ink seems to move as his muscles flex. “What are you going to tell your dad?”
“Nothing. According to us, Jimmy is still alive.”
Nicoli snorts, leaning against the wall, and tips his refilled glass in my direction. “How long before our dear uncle Roberto starts looking for Jimmy?”
“Long enough for Maximo to get rid of his body and erase every trace of Jimmy being here today.”
Maximo nods, and I hand him my gun. “Get rid of it and get me a new one.”
“On it.”
I glance at the body. “Jesus. Fucking Jimmy,” I mutter.
Uncle Roberto, my mother’s oldest brother, adopted Jimmy after his dad shot his mother dead because of a supposed affair she had, and then turned the gun on himself, leaving Jimmy behind to become a super fucking pain in my ass. And who the fuck did he think he was reminding me of our family code? Being a Del Rossa is engraved in my blood, sweat, and tears. Everything I do is for this family, and Jimmy signed his own death warrant the moment he threatened to take it from me. And that’s the fate of anyone who fucks with me and my position in this family. I’m my father’s oldest son, heir to the Dark Sovereign empire, and there is nothing I won’t do to protect my birthright.
I don’t stick around, knowing Maximo will take care of everything. There’s a reason he’s the family enforcer, the one who takes care of everything that has the potential to do us harm. My father has four sons by blood, yet he’s always considered Maximo his fifth. And his sister, Mirabella, is the daughter my dad never had. Maximo was ten years old, his sister four, when they became part of this family. If it weren’t for my dad, who saved them the night his parents along with their brother got assassinated, they would have been buried alongside them. It’s Maximo’s gratitude, his indebtedness, that makes his loyalty unbreakable. And Mira, she’s about the only light around this place. How this family’s sins haven’t corrupted her after growing up in the center of it is beyond me.
Isaia comes strolling down the hall, looking his usual broody self. Sometimes I think my youngest brother is a walking corpse—dead and dreary, and fucking hates everything.
“Guess what.” Nicoli smirks as we walk toward Isaia. “Alexius just planted some lead in Jimmy’s skull.”
“Jesus, Nicoli,” I mutter. “Would you like a loudspeaker to go with that announcement?”
“Relax. There’s no one here. Besides, this house is so fucking big, even the dogs get lost in this place.”
Isaia tucks his hands in his coat pockets. “What did Jimmy do?”
“Fucker killed some random asshole at a strip club last night and fled the scene after everyone but their mother took pictures of his ugly face.”
Isaia slanted a brow. “So you killed him?”
“Jimmy didn’t give a fuck about how his actions affected us, how it reflected on this family. All he cared about was doing what he wanted and having us clean up his shit. I was growing tired of his arrogant ass constantly leaving a trail of motherfucking breadcrumbs leading back to us.” I straighten my jacket sleeves. “I did what needed to be done to protect our family–like I always do.”
Isaia shrugs, cool and unbothered. “Can’t say I’m shocked. One of us was bound to kill him sooner or later.” He lifts a brow. “I’m assuming we’re not telling Dad and that this is a we-take-it-to-the-grave thing?”
“You assume correct.” I step closer. “As far as we’re concerned, Jimmy was never here tonight. And we will never speak of this again. The last thing we need is a war with our uncle while Dad’s health deteriorates faster.”
A knowing look passes between the three of us. The brothers’ bond that pulses with loyalty is a force that can never be broken. We might not always agree, but we’ve always protected each other, and we always will. No matter what.
“Let me know if you need help,” Isaia offers before brushing past us.
“Where you off to?” I call after him.
“I’m meeting Caelian at Myth.”
“That’s my cue.” Nicoli shoves his glass in my hand, and Isaia frowns.
“What do you mean that’s your cue?”
Nicoli places a hand on Isai’s shoulder. “It’s my cue to join you and make sure you two fuckers uphold the family name.”
I roll my eyes. “And that’s what you’ve been doing for the last twenty-nine years? Upholding the family name.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, then,” I call after him. “I’ll just tell Mirabella you were looking for her right before you decided to go fuck one of our elite little whores at Myth.”
Nicoli stops dead in his tracks and turns to face me with a scowl meant to slice my skull in half. “If you weren’t our father’s favorite, I would kick your ass, tear it open, and pull it over your fucking face.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Isaia turns toward me. “Dad wants to speak to you.”
My jaw tics, and Nicoli smirks. “Have I ever told you how glad I am that you were born fourteen minutes before me?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“That I am.” He pretends to wipe dust from my shoulder. “But at least I’m an asshole who’ll get his dick sucked tonight while you have to listen to Dad’s lecture about what an honor it is to be the firstborn.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’ll tell Mirabella you’re sending your love.”
My twin brother’s smug grin disappears, his lips now pulled in a thin line, and he simply turns around and walks off.
Watching my brothers leave reminds me how much I envy them some days. They don’t carry the responsibility of being the firstborn Del Rossa. A commitment that’s been engraved in my goddamn spine since I was two. It’s both my birthright and my curse, a dark cloud that hovers over the power we possess. While my brothers would play outside in the rain, I was a ten-year-old boy who had to attend meetings and gatherings, constantly being at my father’s side so I could learn our ways. Our rules. Our laws.
My brothers mistook the extra attention I received from our dad as favoritism while I thought them lucky to have the kind of freedom I would never have. The pressure of being groomed as the future leader of the Del Rossa empire has always been solely my cross to bear, a responsibility that will always be mine, and mine alone. But during the hardest days, my mother’s compassion and empathy became the silver lining during the dark moments that made me question my place in this family.
Discomfort settles on my shoulders. I already know why my dad wants to speak to me. It’s been a discussion between us ever since we found out he was sick and that the time for me to take over the family business would happen sooner rather than later.
I straighten my black tie as I walk down the hall and square my shoulders as I prepare my defense about why his latest demand is ridiculous and unnecessary.
The door to his study is already open, and I still for a moment, taking a deep breath. He’s expecting me, and clearly, he has his whole fucking speech ready to go the second I walk in.
“Alexius.” He looks up from the newspaper and slips off his glasses.
I unbutton my suit jacket and take a seat across from him, the room smelling of lavender-scented polish and rich leather. “Dad, you can just keep up with the news online.”
“I prefer to hold the newspaper in my hands.” He folds the paper and sets it aside. “Somehow, it makes it more real.”
“You don’t need a newspaper to know this world is fucked,” I remark, settling back in my seat.
“True. But I like to keep up by knowing exactly how fucked this world really is.” He leans back in his chair, and a sense of calm settles around him. Vincenzo Del Rossa is the strong yet silent type who never threatens but simply acts. He’s been head of the Dark Sovereign for the last thirty-five years. The day he married my mom, it wasn’t just a union between two people; it was a consortium of two families. My dad’s, the Del Rossas. And my mom’s, the Savelli family.
Their marriage started as a mere business transaction, yet somehow it turned into love. My mother’s been his pillar of strength, and I know that deep inside, he’s secretly thankful that the odds are he’ll be leaving this Earth before she does.
I cross my legs and place my elbows on the chair armrests. “I don’t have to guess why you want to see me.”
Amber-green eyes study me as he clasps his hands in front of his mouth. “You need to take this matter seriously.”
“I am. But no matter how seriously I take it, it still won’t change the way I feel about it.”
His eyes take on a hard edge. “How and what you feel about it, son, is inconsequential. It has to be done whether you like it or not.”
Defiance burns my throat, but I hold my tongue. Right now, the man in front of me is not my dad. He’s the Dark Sovereign king who demands respect at all times. And while his gaze levels me from the other side of his desk, he isn’t looking at his son, but rather at what I represent. The future of the Dark Sovereign.
The calm atmosphere is gone the second he straightens in his seat, placing his elbows on the table. “It has to be done, Alexius. You have no choice.”
“Of course, I have a choice.”
“Your mother and I had no choice, and neither do you.”
“It was different with you. Your marriage meant a stronger alliance.”
“And yours will mean a stronger presence. A more powerful position as leader.”
“That’s such bullshit.” I scoff. “The day I take your seat at the table, I am the leader. I do not need a wife to make it more concrete.”
“I’m afraid you do.” My father leans his head to the side. “Tell me, what do you think a wife’s purpose is in a family like ours?”
I place my hands on the armrests. “To serve her husband.”
“Oh, my dear boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
My stern gaze locks with his, the raging tempers of titans about to erupt. Everyone knows wives have no voice of their own in this society. They’re nothing more than pretty faces and a guaranteed fuck every night.
I watch him get up from his seat and walk toward the window where a black sparrow sits on the outside windowsill. My father’s presence startles it, and the late afternoon sun shimmers off its plumes as it flies away.
My father rubs his fingers down his gray circle beard. “A wife is so much more than that. Ever wonder why men in our family choose the most beautiful women to be their wives?”
“Like I said, their purpose is to serve their husbands. The pretty ones only make it more enjoyable for us.”
“You insolent fool!”
I duck as he flings a glass at my head, his anger echoing off the sound of the shattered crystal. “A pretty wife is not just a fuck toy, Alexius. She’s not just a womb that carries an heir. A man’s power is communicated and reflected off his wife’s image. Do you understand that?”
I get up on my feet and face him. The last time I cowered in front of him, unable to look at him while I apologized, was the day he broke my fucking nose.
“You are the firstborn Del Rossa, heir to this fucking empire. You never show weakness and never cower in front of anyone. Not even me.”
“I do not need a wife to relay my power as leader to anyone.”
My dad smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes as he pours himself a drink in a new glass and takes a large gulp. “I have four sons,” he says, stilling for a moment with a faraway look in his eyes as he stares across the room, before lightly shaking his head. “Five,” he continues, “if you count Maximo. And out of all of my sons, you have always been the one who does what’s expected of you. You had me convinced that you wanted this.”
“I do. Everything I do is for this family, and I gave you my word a long time ago that I will lead this family the same way you did.”
He swallows the bourbon, his stare ice-cold and full of authority. “You have two weeks.”
“What?” I narrow my eyes.
He steps closer, holding his drink in his hand. “You have two weeks to find yourself a suitable woman and marry her.”
“If I don’t?” I challenge, widening my stance and lifting my chin.
“If you don’t, then I have no choice but to give my seat at the table to Roberto.”
“Excuse me?” My heart pounds like a fucking jackhammer against my ribs. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not.” He places his glass on a leather coaster and takes his seat behind his desk, his jaw clenched and brows knitted. “If you can’t do what’s expected of you, I have no one else. Nicoli will most likely never marry. Caelian doesn’t give a fuck, and Isaia is too young.” He licks his lips and glowers at me. “Do not put me in a position where I have to put shame on my oldest son by denying him his birthright.”
The temperature in the room drops, the air as tight as a rubber band threatening to snap at any moment. My father’s authority radiates off him and wraps around my throat. One of my father’s many lessons he taught me is to always fight the battles you know you can win. Refraining from joining a war is far better than declaring defeat.
This is one of those moments where implementing that lesson would serve me well.
I lick my lips and loosen my tie, unbuttoning my collar. “Fine. Two weeks, and I’ll be married. But even though I’ll marry, I will prove to you and everyone else that I do not need a goddamn wife to reflect my image. The way I rule and the way I bury our enemies will be what defines me as a leader of the Dark Sovereign. Not my goddamn wife.”
I don’t linger. We have both said what needs to be said, and the matter has been discussed and resolved.
The polished wooden floors, beige walls, and thick terracotta curtains draped over arched windows bear witness to my curses and heavy stomping footsteps. It’s not like getting married has never crossed my mind. But the women in our social circle only see a crown prince and heir to wealth and power whenever they look my way. They’re all gold-digging piranhas, their beauty only as deep as their heavy make-up.
But if marrying some pretty face with no soul is what I need to do to make sure I get what’s mine, then that’s what I’ll do. Even if it’s only temporary until my father takes his final breath so I can claim my fucking birthright.
What happens after that? Well, then it will be up to me as king of this fucking world.
Maximo steps out of my office, wiping his hands with a cloth.
“Is it done?” I walk up to him.
“I’m on my way now to get rid of it for good.” It being Jimmy.
I wipe my nose with my thumb and glance down the hall before inching closer. “I need to find a wife.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Maximo frowns. “There are tons of women who would kill for that title.”
“No. It has to be someone from outside our circle. Someone who has no idea how we do things around here.”
“Why?”
“That doesn’t matter. Right now, I need you to find me some suitable candidates.”
Maximo lifts a brow. “You’re gonna have to narrow it down for me just a little, man.”
I pace, annoyance making me clench and unclench my fists. “She has to be Italian. Pretty.” I look him in the eye. “And alone. Someone who won’t be missed when they disappear.”
