A KISS BEFORE THE BETRAYAL

Dylan’s POV

The sweat was practically pouring out of my skin and onto the cold cement ground. My fists colliding with the black leather bag, while it tossed and turned frantically before finding my fist again.

My breaths were panting as my chest rose and sunk in with each muscle I unknotted.

The air filling the room was thick and heavy while I sucked in what I could before releasing it back out.

I imagined the bag as a person. A person who could murder an innocent woman and take her from her family. I imagined gripping the person by their neck and sucking the life out of them, so they could feel what it is my mother felt.

I wished to seize that man and feel his whole world crumble like mine did when I found out what he did to the women who fought and protected me. But now all I think is when she once needed my protection, I wasn't even there to give it to her.

I blame myself for the passing of my mother because if I didn't let her go on that foolish run alone she would still be alive today.

My whole body was aching with exhaustion by the time my anger was slightly defused. I peeled off the leather hand wrap and grabbed the bottle of water sitting on the bench. The cool, crisp water grazed down my throat and left a sting while I engulfed the liquid. My eyes were slowly closing until a vision of my mother came into play.

"Dylan be careful"she yelled from across the yard. I let out a giggle as I ran to my swing set and placed my bum on the black leather and gripped the chains that dangled above me.

She walked over with a smile and stood behind me, giving me a small shove until I was high up in the air, swinging my feet until they touched the trees.

My eyes snapped back open when I heard the door open and slam shut. For just a second I thought about wanting to collapse on this floor and go be with my mother. But I wasn't weak. I couldn't be if I was going to be the next leader of our mafia. My eyes locked on Michael as he walked with his head held high and his arms crossed in front of his abdomen.

"The boss wants to see you”he cleared his

throat. My eyes rolled back into my head at the thought of seeing his horrid face yet again. I placed the water bottle back down and picked up the black T-shirt that hung loosely on my sticky skin.

"What else is new"I mumbled low enough that Michael gave me a confused look before walking away with a tight nod. I walked in the opposite direction of him and swung the glass doors open and walked through the dimly lit corridor.

My head held low as I walked past the pictures of me and my mother, our smiles hung off of our lips while we looked at each other.

I made my way into the dining room where my father sat at the top and held a newspaper in his hands. His eyes slowly scanning the black and white paper before snapping up and meeting mine.

His upper lip curled as I made my way to the seat beside him-not breaking eye contact.

"Nice of you to join me son", he spoke dryly while placing the paper on the black marbled table. My father was intimidating to most people, but to me, I saw him as a broken person who was only loved by one and that one was my mother. He tried to act like the bad wolf in the movie, but deep down he was always the pig who wanted to be left alone.

"Did I have a choice, father?"

"You know son"he breathed sending a nasty

smirk to me. His eyebrow rose as he began to speak, his breath fanning my face, "now that your mother isn't here, I can finally show you how to be a fucking man."

"You know, I'm sure mother would be disappointed in the person she fell in love with.

Which quite frankly father, I never understood what she saw in you. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a leader", I taunted back.

His hands slammed against the table and his chair screeched as he rose, standing before me.

I could practically taste the venom coming off his body and seeping into my skin.

"You will not talk to me like that!" He roared sending a hand to my throat. My breathing hitched as his grip became tighter around my flesh stopping the airflow. His face was red and his eyes met mine for a couple of seconds before he quickly let go.

He stumbled back and looked down at the floor almost as if disappointment was in his burning green hues. I clenched the sore area and tried to get as much oxygen in my body. "Don't talk to me like that again."

He took a seat back down and motioned for me to do the same thing. Underneath the newspaper was a cream colored folder that he held in his hands, handing it to me.

My brows furrowed as I grabbed the thick folder and opened it. A girl sitting outside a Café-typing on her laptop was attached to the paper.

Her brown curls were tied up in a ponytail while her eyes were deep in concentration.

"What is this"I murmured to my father. He sent a nasty glare to the girl in the picture before speaking up.

"That is Marissa Brooke, age 23, lives in New York, and the daughter of Norman Brooke who killed your mother." My eyes scanned her file and everything from where she was born to her daily routine was organized on the paper in bold. My face heated in rage as I looked at her.

So happy and righteous that her father killed the most good-hearted woman to ever walk this earth.

"I have a mission for you, son."

"And what may this mission be?"

"You're going to get close to this girl. Find out all the information you can about her father and their mafia.

After you've completed that task." He slowly inhaled and looked directly at me, "I want you to kill her."

"Why kill her? Why not I just go for the piece of shit father instead?"

"Because son, I want that man to suffer an enormous amount of pain like we did when he took a wife and mother from us. I want his happiness to be ripped away when he finds her cold body as we did", he spoke with irritation and fury. His voice cracked as he spoke the last part but quickly covered it up.

I found myself looking at her picture once more, before closing up the file and standing up from the chair. His eyes trailed my body while I walked out of the room.

"Your request will be completed."