De Luca

Chapter 18

Giovanni POV

For the past few days, Nathalie has been haunted by her dreams. I could only imagine what it must feel like. See the demons; they never go away. They stay hidden in the dark waiting for your happiness to reach its peak. In a blink of an eye, they have already destroyed what little sanity or confidence that you've built. I know it all too well, having your naive mind destroyed by said demons.

I was only seven years old when I first pulled the trigger, the adrenaline that rushes through my body at that age was crazy. Till this day I remember everything.

It was a home invasion, my dad worked at an oil company, and my mom was a nurse. They both had a day off on the same day, and we were at home having family time. It was me with three little sisters, Angelica who was 5, Serena who was three and Noemi who just turned 1.

I remember laughing and playing with my sisters and then a loud bang coming from the entrance door. Seven men came into our home, two held my father, two held my mother, and one had his foot on my back as another pointed a gun at my sisters. My father begged them not to rape my mother and sister.

I felt helpless as I watch them touch my mother. It’s when they ripped her clothes off I was able to get myself free from under the man’s foot. I hit him in his balls with my head, and he dropped the gun.

His friends shouted for him to ‘handle’ me. I picked up the gun, pointing it at him, and I would never forget his words to me.

“If you point it at someone, you better be willing to pull the trigger,” I didn’t understand it then, but I do know. With that I pulled the trigger, it hit him twice in the chest and one in the head. His blood splattered all over me.

I pointed the gun at the rest of them and let my fingers do its job. They all died a quick death. Their lifeless eyes, body, and the thick pool of blood haunted me for two years. My father lost his job during that time, and my mother always works double shifts to provide for us.

Still being haunted by the event of what took place, and then my world felt like it was falling apart. It was then that I did the unthinkable. I started growing weed in an abandoned warehouse. I robbed a few drug dealers of their armor and trained myself how to shot.

I took on a frontman, a homeless man, he became my face, and I made money. I was thirteen when my parents found out, and they were furious. That same day my front man, Alain, betrayed me.

He broke into my home, threaten my family, and shot my father in the leg. When he released us, I promise him a painful death to him, his men, and their families.

I took his men out first, sparing their families. I couldn't bring myself to hurt innocent people. When I found Alain, he had four more guys with him. I took out their leader, shooting him in the legs. I tied him to a chair and made my declaration. That I'm the man he betrayed, and this is my operations.

With Alain tied to the chair, I poured acid over him, gasoline and lighting his body on fire. My trust was already broken when they stood by Alain's side and harmed my family. I shoot them all.

As time went on, my parents accepted what I was doing. They retired. I can't stop them from worrying about me, but I made sure my family was set, in case anything happened to me.

The name De Luca was fear by many. I made alliances and enemies, but no one dared cross paths with me. It’s been like that for years, shoot first and a questions later. I rarely take on newcomers. The feds tried sending in uncover cops, but they're returned to sender in a tank of acid or a body bag.

The sound of glass breaking woke me up from my sleep. I look to see Nathalie was not in bed. She usually comes back to bed, when she’s done doing whatever. I got up walking to the sound of the crash. I stood in the bedroom doorway, watching her as he broke my glassware. Screaming.

She. Has. Lost. Her. Mind.

“You know what? f**k you, Trent!” She broke a glass. “f**k you for existing!” She broke one of my paintings. That was an excellent painting, damn it.

“You know what I’m mad at myself. I’m mad because I let you hurt me. I could have poisoned your ass and be rid of you. Couldn’t do it, because this ass int built for prison. I'm not tryna get raped by a woman. Hell knows what they use as a d**k!” Okay, that was funny. I know I am trying not to laugh, but it was amusing.

“But f**k you for coming into my life!” She marched to the kitchen like the madwoman she is, stepping on glass and everything to get a knife.

“You lopsided looking ass mother! Ooooh, let me see your ass again imma stab your ass like I’m butchering a live cow!” Wow, remind me not to piss her off. With each word, she stabs my couch. The couch did nothing wrong besides support our weight when we're watching TV or f*****g on it. She went and stabbed it.

“You good?” I asked her, leaning against the bedroom doorway. My house is properly f****d. She nodded, and I slipped on some shoes before going to my bat s**t crazy girlfriend.

“I’m happy my home was there for you to destroy thanks for that,” I chuckled, shaking my head. I picked her up and brought her back to the bedroom.

I might be joking right now, but broken souls take the longest to heal and even when they seem healed, there is that small scare that can be ripped open. So getting angry at what she did or trying to tell her that be fine, safe, and okay won’t help. Its lies fueling the already tainted soul.

I’m not The Flash, Superman or Iron Man. I won’t always be there to protect her, and she would always look over her shoulder, wondering when he will be back. Until Trent is dead, she is far from safe.

I went into the bathroom, getting the first aid kit. It’s a big ass box, I get shot and stabbed a lot, out on the street and even more so in my home.

I took out the shard of glass that was in her feet. She apologized, but it wasn’t needed. She could have done it over a thousand times, and I’d still be okay with it.

When I’m done cleaning and dressing her feet, I lay next to her. I started thinking of who I could call to help clean up the mess but then again. It is the 14 time I had to replace shits in my house. I remember I own four condo’s one of them must have an available apartment.

I pulled out my phone and called Hendrick to check out the condos for me. Nathalie fell asleep about an hour ago. I continued watching Hyperdriver on Netflix when Hendrick called me back, letting me know that a condo on the east side, was available.

It’s not bad, not too busy or too quiet; it has just the right amount of coward. And knowing the east side, you always have kids on the block being watchful eyes. So I told him to meet at Home Depot to pick up a few things.

I called up two of my youngest guys, Ricky, and Manson to stick with Nathalie while I am out. I gave them rules and went about my business with Hendrick. We finish purchasing the furniture for the condo and are about to head out. Hendrick stopped mid-step while I continued walking.

On my car was none-other than Rudolph Santini. We have a love-hate type of relationship. We both hold the same sort of story. Him being here means a truce is set. “Santini,” I acknowledge him. Hendrick and I loaded his truck up with the furniture.

“De Luca, we have an acquaintance we each want found or dead, starting with Trent Thomason,”

“You got my attention,” I told him without hesitation. He told me to meet him at his warehouse and went on with magician ass, disappearing in the coward of people that gather around for a protest. Smart motherfucker.