THE MAFIA'S FORBIDDEN THERAPIST

CHAPTER 2: ALESSIO

“Did you speak with our contact at the DEA?” my father inquired, fixing his gaze on my brother Luciano. He was the second-born, my father's preferred child, and when I say preferred, I mean the favorite psychopath.

“Yes, I did. He assured me he’ll keep quiet when the time comes,” Luciano replied, reclining comfortably in his chair. My father nodded in approval, beginning to delve into another topic, but I found myself drifting away from the conversation. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to listen; rather, my thoughts were consumed by a recent encounter that refused to leave my mind.

Damn it! She was like a persistent itch I couldn’t scratch. She wasn’t meant to linger in my thoughts, just another faceless body to satisfy my primal urges, as they all were. Yet, this one was different, and that was the most infuriating part. There was nothing particularly unique about her compared to the countless others I had taken to bed, but she had a way of burrowing into my consciousness.

Her body was a masterpiece, with curves that seemed sculpted to perfection. Her breasts were full, and the way she responded to my touch was intoxicating. The scent of her skin was utterly captivating, a heady mix that drove me wild. Sure, I had my fair share of divine encounters, but this one struck a chord deep within me, fulfilling desires I hadn’t even realized I had.

She was not just the embodiment of everything I desired in a woman; she was incredible in bed. Damn, she had surrendered to my desires, and the memories of last night were flooding my mind. Just thinking about it made me harden in my slacks. My fingers instinctively pressed against the growing bulge, the tension coursing through my chest was undeniable. This was a dangerous situation; I never f****d a woman more than once, and it wasn’t the typical fear of developing feelings that held me back. No, for me, the more I slept with someone, the stronger the urge to eliminate them became, the urge to watch the life drain out from their….

“Alessio, are you even paying attention to what we’re discussing?” My father’s voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I looked up at him, sitting in the chair that was rightfully mine, a position of authority that he still clung to despite my role as the new don. It was amusing how he struggled to relinquish control, but I found it hardly mattered to me.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I replied, a smirk creeping onto my face as I noticed the twitch in his left eye. I could almost see the scenario playing out in his mind where he was throttling me for my lack of focus.

“Lately, there has been an unsettling silence regarding O’Donnell's encroachment on our territory, and I feel uneasy about it. It's odd. You need to…...” As he continued to speak, I found myself only half-listening, my thoughts drifting back to the one I had left behind on my bed. The decision to leave my penthouse had been a hasty one, driven by an urgency that felt as if I were being chased away, the echoes of my departure still ringing in my ears.

“Damien, summon the lord of the south for me,” my father commanded, and those words snapped me back to attention. You might wonder why such a simple request would pique my interest, but it was the shift in his focus, from the mundane affairs of humans to the shadowy depths of the underworld, that truly captivated me. This was my realm, the demon world, a place where I thrived and relished every dark twist and turn. After all, we were the reigning lords since the great war that had fractured the underworld, a legacy that weighed heavily on our shoulders.

“Why do you need to summon the lord of the south?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued as my father turned his gaze toward me. He paused for a moment, and in that silence, I sensed a disturbance brewing in the underworld. “Nothing of importance,” he replied, but I could feel the tension in his words. I wanted to press him further, to challenge his dismissal, but I held my tongue. I knew he would eventually come to me when he was ready to share the truth. After all, in the demon world, nothing transpired without the demon lord's consent.

“Alright, Father,” I said, though he was well aware that I would uncover the secrets he and the other lords were keeping.

With the previous discussion behind us, he declared, “Let’s return to the primary issue at hand.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes; I was all too aware of where this conversation was headed, and frankly, I had no desire to hear it. My only wish was to rise from my seat and escape this place. Being in such close quarters with them for an extended period was never a pleasant experience.

“What is it now?” Angelo finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had enveloped him since he stepped into Dad's office or my office, I wasn't sure sometimes. But It was clear I wasn’t the only one eager to leave; Angelo was not one to voice his thoughts often, and when he did, it usually signaled that he was either ready to explode or had reached his limit with Dad’s antics. Today, it seemed to be the latter.

“Just be quiet and listen,” Dad retorted, and I couldn’t help but find amusement in the way Angelo clenched his jaw in irritation.

“Your mother has arranged for us to see a family psychiatrist.” The moment those words left his lips, an eerie silence fell over the room. It was only a heartbeat before my other two brothers, Luciano and Damien, erupted with a barrage of questions. Meanwhile, I remained seated, simmering with frustration. What the f**k did we need a shrink for?

“What the hell do we need a shrink for?” Damien shot back, voicing the very thought that had been racing through my mind. “Do we look like a bunch of broken, messed-up kids to you?” he continued, rising from his chair in indignation. I couldn’t entirely disagree with him; while we were certainly not children, we were far from being the dysfunctional mess he implied.

“I need you to sit down and watch your tone with me,” Dad snapped, taking a moment to observe as Damien begrudgingly returned to his seat.

This isn't my call; it was your mother's decision, so you'd all better follow it. It's not just about you three troublemakers; it affects your sisters, me, and even your mom," he said, and oddly enough, it made me feel a bit better. Not that I was about to spill my crap to any therapist, my crap is mine alone. Still, I couldn't shake the urge to wreak havoc on the young man he was bringing in for us, just like what happened last time...

“She’s starting tomorrow. She was supposed to come in today, but she called in sick, so I…” he began, but I interrupted him. Did he just say "she"? This was getting intriguing.

“You mean it’s a female therapist?” I asked, leaning in as close as I could over the large mahogany table separating us.

“Yes, you heard me right, she…” he started, but then hesitated. “Nope, whatever you’re imagining, forget it. We can’t have a repeat of last time,” he said, locking eyes with me. I smirked and nodded. “Sure thing, Dad.”

“I’m serious…” he continued, but I stood up and made my way to the door.

“I got it, Father. I’ll make sure to give your new psychiatrist a warm welcome,” I replied as I stepped out, hearing my brothers bombard him with questions behind me. I couldn’t help but smirk as I walked toward home.

“Hmm, I won’t go too hard on her. Just f**k, kill, and destroy, nothing too serious”

And as I made my way toward home, a wicked grin crept across my face. What would this new therapist be like? Would she even last a week with my family? And could she handle the secrets we all kept hidden from one another?