VARELA

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4

VARELA’S POV

I walked in slowly as I pointed my gun forward.

The club was empty, only the killers and the dead bodies on the ground. I guess everyone else left running in horror.

12 bullets, 5 men. I have more then enough to kill them, but as I went to kill my first victim he already fell to the ground dead.

“What the fuck.” I groaned only to look behind me as I see Mr. Anderson smirk at me, oh this guy wants a competition. And one he’ll get, I smirked.

I went and slid over the counter as shield as I aimed for the next guy, but it was already to late. Mr. Anderson already shot him.

I growled lowly as I knew if he killed one more then he’ll win this sick game. And loosing wasn’t something I was taught.

I looked up to see the glass room, one where the VIP area was. My father was looking down, with a hard stern, I knew if I killed less then Mr. Anderson I was going to be punished severely. So, instead I used my brain.

I looked behind me to see expensive wine and alcohol on the shelves.

I smiled as a thought came to me.

“Hey! Mr. Andy man!” I yelled with a smirk, he looked confused but then saw what was happening.

I threw various of alcohols over to where the other three men where. They looked confused but then laughed as if I was stupid.

“You missed, b***h!” One laughed, but I just smiled as I threw my lighter over, landing right on the alcohol.

Then the last 3 men standing started running as they were being burned alive.

Mr. Anderson walked over to me as he whistled, keeping he’s gaze on the fire.

“I guess you win.” He smiled, but when I turned to look at him he looked so different, but how?

We stood there just staring at each other until my father came in the room.

“Now that’s how you settle business.” He smiled as he walked over towards me. I looked down and walked behind father, like I would usually do.

“Now, about that business deal?” My father said as he’s body guards came from behind him while Mr. Anderson’s came back from the fight, standing behind him now as well.

The tension was awkward as I decided to block everyone out, keeping my gaze to my bare feet as glass and alcohol was all I felt on them, but I didn’t care.

“Varela? Impossible.” My father said with a poison in he’s tone, that’s what caught my attention as I looked up.

“That or no deal.” Mr. Anderson replied with a stern gaze.

That’s when father looked over at me as confusion stayed with me.

What the hell was happening?

“Varela.” I walked forward as my father motioned me to. I as now in front of Mr. Anderson as I still had no clue what was going on.

“Michael here wants to marry you, my dear child.” Farther explained as it was the most hilarious thing ever. “Why don’t you tell him, Varela.”

That’s when I looked at my farther with confusion. Tell him what exactly?

“Varela here, doesn’t feel anything, Michael. So, there will be no point in pursing a woman who can’t love.”

Love? Mr. Anderson wants to marry me, for love? I hardly knew the man, although he was handsome I couldn’t just marry a stranger. I was still 17 for f**k sake!

“The only way to bring our gang together is marriage, either that or stay bankrupt.” Mr. Anderson replied smugly, which made farther pop a vein in he’s forehead. But he soon let out an evil smile, one that sent shivers down my spine.

“Varela is a weapon, not a woman you fool. Even if I gave her to you, it’ll be waste. So, let me do you favour, and I’ll keep her.” He smiled.

Michael then looked over at me, with softness in he’s eyes as he smiled gently.

“She will never be a waste to me.” He replied, which only made farther angry.

“This meeting is over, we’ll contact you when a decision is made.” Michael only smiled smugly at the reply, knowing that father had no other choice. He was bankrupt and he needed money. Michael on the other hand had all the money a man could ever want.

“Well it is getting late, I’ll let you decide your choice. Henry.” Michael looked over at me and smiled before leaving.

When Michael left the building, father screamed in anger.

The way back to the mansion wasn’t nice either. He groaned in frustration while cursing Mr. Anderson.

“He think he can just take what’s mine! You’re my weapon, not he’s!” He yelled. He was pissed and that was never good.

He then gripped both my arms, forcing me to look at him.

“You deny him, you understand!” He yelled in my face, the smell of alcohol hitting me like a slap, coming from he’s breath.

“As my weapon you pledge your loyalty to me and reject him!” He then let go and pulled out a cigar as he drew a few puffs.

He groaned in irritation, knowing he had no choice.

When we got home a ran up the stairs all the way to the west wing, I closed the door and locked it as I slid on the ground. My back against the door as I pulled my knees to my chest.

I tried to think of a life of being seen as anything but a ‘thing’. A weapon.

I smiled at the thought of being free from this sick man I call a farther. And it was all thanks to another Mafia leader who found admiration for me.

Michael.