Page 5 of Once Upon A Christmas Kiss
“The fuckers called me Chris and started to attack,’ I say, rolling my fingers into my palms.
“Fuck me! Thank fuck that I started training you back when because I knew that this fucking shit show could happen because of Papà, and now because of me,” Chris snarls, shaking his head, grinding his molars.
“Yeah, I went to Sirens to look for you, but I got talking to some girl, then I left to come talk to you here, but those fuckers attacked me, mistaking me for you,” I say, taking a pull of the Whiskey.
“Fuck, give me all of the DETS,” Chris snarls, resting his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes.
Our eyes dance between us, feeling the strong bond that we have, the bond of family.
“When the fuckers jumped me, they started beating me, kicking me
“Chris, the fuckers jumped me; they started beating and kicking me, yelling,” I say, raising my eyebrow.
“What the fuck did they say,” Chris asks, furrowing his forehead.
“The fuckers yelled.
“It’s fucking time to end your fucking life, Chris! I’ve been waiting a long time to finish you off! We killed Matteo since he killed my father and brother. So now it’s your turn.”
That’s when I managed to smash his balls with my knee. The fucker released me; I pulled out my Glock. I shot one, and then I turned and shot the other motherfucker,” I say, shaking my head.
“Fuck, I know that you cleaned up, right,” Chris asks, resting his hands on his waist.
“Of fuckincourse! I got rid of the bodies, and I came over, but your beamer wasn’t in the parking garage. So, I knew that you were out, most likely on a contract. I’m fucking buzzing from the kill, and at the same time, I feel an ache in my chest,” I say, rubbing my chest looking at Chris.
“Damn it! Fuck, Nicola, I didn’t want you ever to experience this life; the damn anguish of taking a life is fucking unbearable! I’m sorry that they mistake you for me,” Chris says, shaking his head.
“Fuck Chris! Don’t fucking do that! I’m a D’Angelo! What the hell? I was born into this world. Do damn it! Do not push me away like you always do! Not this time,” I yell, pressing my lips tight into a line.
I can’t fucking believe Chris. But I’m not going to allow him to push me away from what I want to do. So, this fight, the kill, it’s all good. It’s a fucking baptism into the Mafiosos lifestyle.
“Nicola, fuck! You only have a few months to go; you’re almost done, only a few more years in law school,” Chris says, furrowing his forehead.
“Fucking hell! Chris, I don’t fucking want to do that! I want to be a Made Man, like Papà and you! That’s why I was at Siren’s club, looking for you to talk about it,” I growl, lowering my eyelids, pressing my lips.
“No! That’s not an option. This life, it’s not for you! So instead, you have the opportunity of becoming someone, to do something with your life,” Chris snarls, his lip curling up as he points at me.
“Fuck you, Chris! I’m not going into law; that’s not my dream; it’s yours. But, I need your help; get me into Cappola’s Crime Family. I want to be a Soldati! You can’t stop me, help me, or I’ll find someone that will,” I yell, waving my hands.
I feel my face is fucking hot, it’s most likely red from my anger, and my eyes are bright.
“Fuck you, Nicola! Mama will kill me if I get you involved with Capolla! What the fuck,” Chris growls, shaking his head.
“That’s too fucking bad! Mamma will get used to it as she did with you! She knows all about this life; she supported Papà and you! I don’t see the fucking problem. It’s my life, my decision, and that’s it. I’m going to graduate this year, and I want to start training hard with you,” I snarl, resting my hands on my waist.
“Damn it! Nicola, it’s not that easy; you will need to prove your worth; it takes time,” Chris growls, shaking his head.
“I don’t fucking care! I got this. You made it, and I will too. This life is part of me; it’s in my blood, just like it’s in yours,” I huff, shaking my head.
“Fuck! You’re a damn fucking stubborn fucker,” Chris snarls, scrubbing his face.
“Fuck you. You’re just as stubborn,” I snarl, pointing at him.
“Fucking hell! Those motherfuckers are the ones that killed Papà,” Chris asks, rubbing his neck, looking out the window at the rain pouring down.
“That’s what the fucker said. So, I took their wallets so we can check out the two motherfuckers,” I say, pulling out the wallets from my raincoat.
“Fuckingtastic! You took out Papà’s killer,” Chris grunts, taking the wallets.
