3. Underestimating Her

PIETRO’S POV

.

I’ve been tagged a lot of things; Beast, Reaper, Dark Prince, Killer, Monster, Psychopath, Murderer, Mad Prince, and several others. Personally, I think the term “Mad Prince” suits me best. Because only a madman can do the things I’ve done.

But I’m a King now. “Mad King.”

.

There are groups of humans that see themselves as god. They always find a way to inflict pain on others just to feel powerful. In their attempt to coexist, they find a way to categorize themselves within a small cult; godfathers, consigleres, dons, capos, soldiers, and every stupid name and rank they could think of.

The quest for power can be intoxicating. From an early age, I learned a few things about life; the world is a hunting ground. You either be the hunter or the prey. Devour or get devoured.

A lot of evil has happened to me. I watched my brothers; half brothers, stepbrothers, adopted brothers, less worthy brothers, fall one by one until it was just me and Edoardo. We’ve been tortured emotionally, so much so that we’ve gone numb and don’t remember what feelings feel like anymore.

With each death of our siblings, our father’s beastly nature grew calmer until his wife got taken too. Then he bowed and turned into a weakling, barely surviving.

I had to become a man at the age of 15. I struggled, adapted, and survived and when I was ready, I started hunting my preys, my brother's killers. I took them down, one after the other, taking everything from them as I went.

The things I’ve accomplished, the billions I’ve made, the fear and respect I’ve earned, the murders I’ve committed and gotten away with, are uncountable.

But then, the mayor’s daughter decides to make me a person of interest in her small journal. Now she’s on my radar and all I want to do is break her, mold her, break her again, remold her, and break her all over again.

Maybe that’s the only way I could spare her father, who happens to be my next prey.

.

I was all ready for my big day. I’d imagined this day and all the things that could go wrong. But nothing came to mind.

Roberto Kostas knew better than to play with me. And Aria... well, she had exhausted all her tricks. And had obviously given up trying to plead her way out of the marriage.

I was trying to clear out the last of the mishaps that would have happened to my next shipment when Giancarlo walked in, his worry lines deeper than usual.

The old man was here to tell me how wrong it was to kill on my wedding day. Who the hell is going to listen to him? Not me, of course.

“She’s here,” Giancarlo said instead.

“Speak in plain sentences, Carlo.” I hummed.

“Your bride.” He continued. “She’s here to see you.” He added.

That made me smile. Aria Kostas would never give up, would she? It made me wonder who she took after, her father or mother. Obviously her mother. Roberto Kostas doesn’t have half the balls Aria has. He might be a diabolical cancer that needs to be cut off, but he’s nothing but dust to me.

If only Aria could take a minute to see the good in my proposal. Being married to me means keeping her father alive, for now. She should be grateful to me. “What does she want?” I asked Giancarlo.

“She didn’t say. But she said it won’t be long.” He replied.

A call came through my phone. It was my father. “Padrino,” I paused. “Si,” I replied.

After a few seconds of silence, I ended the call. “Everything is set,” I said to Carlo. “Let’s get out of here,” I added, emptying three bullets into various parts of the infidel’s body. Then I heard a gasp. It was my bride. She’d seen me kill a man. And she looked white as a sheet.

“Hello, Tesorina,” I called, but she rushed out of the room in a flash.

“Carlo, what the hell is she doing in here?” I yelled at the older man. He was already on the move, shouting out orders in his walkie-talkie. I followed behind, almost running.

Not today. This can’t be happening today. She was nowhere to be found when we got outside. But some of my men were already on her tail. I jumped into my car, taking over the steering wheel. Carlo sat right next to me, still with the walkie-talkie. I pulled it away from his hand and shouted at whoever was at the other end of the line.

“Don’t you fuckin lose her. Do you hear me?” I pushed back the walkie-talkie to Carlo and pulled my car into the streets.

Carlo set up the GPS to track our other car that was already in pursuit. They were headed towards the subway.

“Shit!”

A small smile crossed my face. Where could she possibly run to? I would catch her, no matter where she goes. She’s wearing a heavy wedding dress. So, finding her wouldn’t be so hard.

We were so close now that I could see my men’s car. They pulled up to the curb beside the subway and jumped down. I pulled my car over as well. My adrenaline was pumping. This would have been so much fun if it wasn’t my fucking wedding day.

Carlo was out of the car before I could successfully pull over. I ran down the subway with him, right behind our men. Then the craziest thing happened.

Right there at the subway, there were three... four... six... nine ladies putting on wedding dresses, walking aimlessly across the subway.

“What the fuck!” Carlo shouted.

I shook my head in disbelief. I’d underestimated Aria Kostas. She had it all planned out. I knew she wasn’t here anymore. But where could she be? I pulled away from the spot and scanned the whole subway slowly with my eyes.

Then I spotted someone: a black jacket, a cap, a little bag. She was rushing back up the way we came from. I picked up a run and rushed after her.

“Tesorina!” I yelled. But just as I climbed up the staircase and rushed to the sidewalk, I saw her enter a car; she looked at me squarely before pulling away.

I rushed to my car immediately. But alas, my tires had been deflated. Same with my men’s car. Looking up, I watched her car disappear in frustration. I’d fucking underestimated her.

“Fuck!!!” I yelled, kicking my car tyre in sheer frustration. Carlo was beside me in a snap. “DW469CP. That’s her license plate number. Get our men at the airport, borders, bus terminals, train stations. Do whatever the fuck you can. Don’t you dare lose her?” I warned.

“Yes, I’m on it.” He said, typing in his phone furiously. “The ladies were all paid $200 by some anonymous man to wear those wedding dresses.” He announced, while still typing.

I nodded. “I underestimated her. Fuckin Aria Kostas.”