The Mafia King's Thief

Vibe

Alessio's POV

If there is anything that is lacking so greatly in my life, then it is stability. See, I'm not saying other areas of my life are damn perfect, but I'd like to see those other things compete with stability and get punched it the f*****g face.

This hour, I can be in Italy and then the next, I get a call to come to another continent. That's the thing about my life. It's tiring and f*****g exhausting. I would have wanted her to come with me through it all, to see what my life is like, but what is the point in doing that?

She will get exhausted and probably kill herself on my yacht one day and nobody wants that.

I feel like the way I handled it is just very perfect. I dumped her ass in Albania and I plan on getting her all that she wants. All she has to do is ask, albeit there are a few exceptions. Exceptions like getting her a phone. I’ll be f*****g damned before that happens. It cannot happen under my nose. The only way it will happen will have to be over my dead body.

Anyways, she had been requesting for a stylist from me for the f*****g longest and I had to do so much research to get her one of the best in the game. It isn’t like I really care about any of that s**t or I am into it, but she had been whining about it for a very long time and this woman was all over my ass. I had no choice, but to oblige. I’m not one who goes for mediocre s**t. That is why I got her the best of the best.

He sent me a picture of what the hair looks like–not like I needed him to show me since I’m watching her every move–well, not exactly her every move, since I don’t have access to the bathroom and toilet she uses because I'd like to give her some privacy. I’m not some f*****g pervert who installed cameras in the house because he badly wanted to jerk off while he watched his captive take her bathe. The thought of that irritates me and I want to punch a f*****g wall. It really is crazy.

It would have been bad if the stylist had done a terrible job because the amount I paid him was f*****g huge. There just could not be any way that he’ll do an unimpressive job. It has been a few hours since he left and I’ve still been watching her. She’s been stealing glances every chance she gets to walk past a mirror. It’s as though she is obsessed with the hair and in love with it at the same time.

I don’t really know how to feel about it because there is no point dwelling on the issue when there are other pressing ones that need my f*****g attention–like having to see my aunt after such a f*****g long time. I know she’s heartbroken, but we have to move forward, and I have to keep trying to find the one or the ones who orchestrated the whole ordeal. I’m very much aware of the fact that if I let her be, she’ll just be there for ages. Damn, she can wallow in pain for the rest of my life and that is very much different from what I promised my mum on her dying bed. I promised I was going to take care of my aunt and my cousin. The only person I have left now is aunt and f**k if I let anything happen to her.

I know she gives me tons and tons of advice that I always end up not following, but she is the only one that is still alive that I can call family. The rest are either dead or–I really don’t want to discuss that right now. Maybe on the long run, but my mind is too f****d to handle s**t like that right now.

I am back from my vacation–well, it was a vacation until the now-late man stopped it and ruined everything. If anything, though, I’m a hundred percent happy that he’s dead.

I am now in Germany. Life must f*****g go on. I have my plans and I hope to whatever that aunt Francesca doesn’t collapse while I break the news to her because I damn well know that my aunt is very emotional.

I have sent a plane her way and she’s currently on the plane now, coming to germany.

I try, try and try again to think about how I’m going to make it known to her. Just how? How the f**k do you tell your aunt that the so-called best friend of your late daughter had a hand in her dead. She wouldn’t even believe me. I know that. She was even trying to woo me into going after the now-late friend to try to get to know her and all of that bullshit that I am not interested in. I wonder what she’ll do when I tell her that I’m married.

Aunt Francesca wouldn’t believe me, point blank!

That’s where f*****g evidence comes in. I have the audio recording of her confessing, but the circumstances and events behind her confession cannot be revealed. Of course, it cannot be revealed. Am I going to tell my aunt that I dipped my fingers in her daughter's friend’s p***y and made her orgasm before I could extract the truth from her mouth? Of course f*****g not! Aunt Francesca took Anna as a daughter and even though she tried to push my way and convince me about her a few times, that will not change the fact that my aunt will not be disrespected.

I respect her.

Now, I’ll need to get a top class therapist because I know that her reaction to this will not be a positive one since aunt Francesca is a people’s person. It will be very hard on her health, but I’m willing to take care of it.

As for me, though, I do not really believe in that therapy nonsense. I believe that if something is wrong with you, you are to get to the root of the problem and f*****g solve it! After all, we are the ones that know and understand ourselves the best. I know that sounds harsh, but that’s just how I feel.

Shrugging, I close my eyes and try to sleep and I can’t help, but laugh at myself. I f*****g though it will come just like thatt. For as long as I have lived, I have always been the one to seek sleep and not the other way around. It’s funny I thought I could just lie down now and everything will just be put in place.

Well, after a while, the sleep finally comes and I hold on to it like a f*****g lifeline.

Now, I just have to wake up and face whatever befalls me–more like aunt Francesca's reaction because it seems as though I'm ready for it and at the same time, I'm not ready for it. I honestly don't know and just want to get some f*****g sleep since sleep is not just something I have like this in my everyday life. It's happening like this because s**t is happening.

❦

I wake up the next day, knowing full well that aunt Francesca has arrived. I have not seen her yet, but there is this energy I feel any time she is around. No, it is not negative energy, but it's how you feel when you know that certain persons are around your vicinity.