Hey... A little necessary insight into Ethan's mind. What do you think will happen next? And before anyone gets all judgmental about Vincenzo's behavior, remember, he's an heir to the Outfit. Being completely and utterly ruthless and a dick comes with the territory. That's just the way their world operates. Comment below! XOXO
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Red... The color was red, a vibrant, striking red. The dress she wore clung to her figure, highlighting her every contour. Her lips matched the dress, painted in that same captivating shade of crimson. Her hair was styled in a classic French bun, adding an air of elegance to the ensemble. As I looked at her, memories flooded my mind, taking me back just two nights prior when she was with me. I touched her, my fingers mapping every inch of her body, committing the experience to my memory. I had lost control, slipping deeper into the darkness of obsession with each passing day. It was as if I had become a different person, my thoughts and actions ruled by a single, overpowering need to make her mine. There was no escaping the chaos that had taken over my mind, and I had no intention of trying to break free.Every time I saw her, my heart raced, and I couldn't help but picture all the things I wanted to do to her. The way she looked, the way she moved, it was all
Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅"You are coming to the reception with me, I don't care. I don't know why you're acting this way, Ethan, but if it's Vincenzo Capone, then you have nothing to worry about," I snapped, forcing a forkful of pancakes into his mouth.He chewed on them as if I had fed him cockroaches, his face contorted with unease, "And what are you going to do about him if it's him?"I gave him an annoyed look, "First of all, I'm not afraid of him in the least. He's a killer, a murderer, a mob boss, so what? I've grown up with killers and mobsters. I have Scott Mancini in my corner; you may have only seen Scott's goofy side, but trust me, you don't want to see him when he loses his shit. That man turns into a hulk. I have Marco Costello, Alessandro Costello, Stefano Fabbri in my corner, and this is before I even start throwing around some more serious names."I noticed the smile that played on his lips, but it was quickly replaced by a sigh. "I don't know, Claire. I just feel like I don
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅I casually slid a cigarette between my lips and then ignited it. Drawing in a long, slow breath, I released a dense cloud of smoke, savoring the moment as it unfurled around me.I'd chosen this shade just for her, knowing it would make her hair shine and it truly did. The color harmonized with her eyes and my tie. Watching her from across the room, I couldn't help but admire her beauty. Claire was radiant in that dress I had sent her, and I had to admit, it was my intention all along to make her stand out. The way her hair cascaded down, her eyes glistening under the lights, she was like a diamond in a sea of pebbles.My fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of the glass in my hand. Her eyes met mine briefly, and it was as if time slowed down. I could see it in her expression, a realization that I had been the one behind the dress. It annoyed her to no extent but she couldn't change it now. The party buzzed around us, but to me, it was just her and me in the roo
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅"But if I win," I continued, "you still get to walk away, and I'll fulfill my promise to cover your mother's treatment. However, in return, I get your girlfriend and the pleasure of doing as I please with her." Ethan stated at me, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it as if he was in deep thought. I lit another cigarette and waited for his response, leaning back in my chair, and watching Ethan's internal battle play out before me. Smoke curled from the lit cigarette, creating a haze in the dimly lit room. He was trapped, caught between the fear of my proposition and the desire to escape his current life.His silence spoke volumes. He couldn't make a snap decision on this, and that worked in my favor. If I was him I wouldn't want Claire anywhere near the clutches of a man like me. I took a slow drag from my cigarette, savoring the moment. The mere thought of possessing Claire was everything to me. Time seemed to stretch as we sa
Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅I gazed at the dance floor, where Marco and Amy were the center of attention. Their love was evident in every move, every smile exchanged, and every tender moment they shared. It was a beautiful sight to see.I watched Marco twirl Amy gracefully, their laughter ringing out like music in my ears. I found myself lost in the magic of their love story. Marco's eyes never left Amy, and Amy's smile could light up the entire room. It was as if the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, dancing in their own little universe.The guests clapped and cheered as Marco dipped Amy, sealing the moment with a sweet and passionate kiss. The love they shared was so genuine, so pure, that it filled my heart with hope and happiness.A gentle tap on my shoulder sent a pleasant shiver down my spine, and I turned to find Ethan standing there. My face lit up with an unexpected grin as I met his eyes. He responded with a tentative but endearing smile.In that fleeting mo
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Vincenzo Capone - Fifteen years old... I was just fifteen, sitting beside my mother's sickbed, my heart heavy with concern. Her once vibrant face now appeared pale and feverish. Tiny beads of sweat clung to her forehead. I held her hand, which had always offered me warmth and comfort, but now felt cold and clammy."Mom," I murmured, my voice trembling, "You have to get better. I don't know what to do without you."She managed a faint smile, her hand reaching up to caress my cheek. "Vincenzo, mio amore, don't worry about me, it's just a fever. I'll be fine."I nodded, "Yes, you will because I'm here to take care of you."Dipping a cloth into a bowl of water, I gently wiped her forehead, hoping to relieve her fever. As I tended to my mother, the weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders. This was the first time I had seen her so vulnerable. My father's deep voice echoed through the house, calling my mother downstairs to his office, "Isabella!" A frown appe
Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅It was drizzling... I stood there in a black dress, holding an umbrella, my eyes swollen and red from tears.I had attended nearly six funerals since morning, and Ethan's was the last for the day. Tomorrow, there were a few more funerals to face.Ethan's world had always been a solitary one, with few friends and little family to speak of. I had received word that his mother had been informed of his passing, and I held onto the hope that she would arrive before we proceeded with the final rites. Ethan would have wanted his mother by his side, and I couldn't bear the thought of him leaving this world without her presence.As I stood there in the drizzle, my thoughts drifted to the moments I had shared with Ethan. He had been a quiet and diligent man, but there was a warmth and kindness in his eyes that spoke volumes. Despite the hardships he had faced, he had always carried an air of quiet strength.I wished for his mother to witness the small crowd that had gathered
Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅I stepped into the spacious, gleaming marble bathroom in Vincenzo's penthouse. My heart was heavy with the memories of Ethan's death, making each step toward the massive glass-enclosed shower a struggle.With a sigh, I began to undress, peeling away the layers of clothing that felt like a protective barrier against the harsh realities of my life. The cold bathroom tiles stung against the soles of my feet as I stripped down, my clothing dropping in a messy heap on the floor.The tiles felt uncomfortable beneath my feet as I approached the shower. I hesitated before stepping inside, my hand trembling as I reached for the faucet. The large rain showerhead loomed above, an invitation to let the water wash everything away, but my trembling fingers made it hard to grasp the handle.I turned the faucet, and the water burst forth in a warm cascade. Its comforting embrace was inviting, but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was an intruder in this grand bathroom. W