The Code To A Don's Heart

t h i r t y - t h r e e

V I K T O R     M A K A R O V I C H — T H E     B U T C H E R

Grief and pain were two dangerous things.

I experience both everyday and somehow, being around Peach distracts me from it all. She makes me forget the ache in my chest and he darkness around the back of my mind. When I kiss her, light shines from behind her lids and all I can feel is her.

Her lips, her hands, her skin...

Everything with her seems so simple. I feel like we can find my doppelgänger and stop him from ruining what my father and the fathers before him had built. I was going to get my mafia back and then I was going to rule it with Peach by my side. As my consigliere.

Last night was hard for her and me. I realised I hated seeing her cry. The tears had refused to stop flowing and I could feel her pain through the words she spoke and the love she held for her brother. Facts say that he was dead. I'd looked at the pictures of the John Doe Peach had refused to identify as her brother but he was later claimed by Mrs. C.

That old lady was a problem of her own. She cared for Peach, a lot and she respected her decisions but she did not like them. Her demeanor was manipulative. The way she pushed around questions and expected the answers she desired. Peach stood firm in what she thought was right, a fact that made me believe she'd do well by my side.

It would take time for her to get over her brother and I did admit that guilt wracked thorough my body when I thought about the way I'd walked into her brother's room and invaded his space. I knew that would push Peach to talk about him somehow, face his death. Though it helped her, I realised it wasn't my place to push her about like that. She has been so open with me and I haven't told her enough about myself to call it even.

I wanted to change that. I wanted Peach to get to know me as much as I'd get to know her. We would be working together for a long time to come. It only made sense for our interests to be perfectly aligned.

Though when I think about spending more time with Peach these days, it usually involves tasting what her lips had to offer and learning each and every curve and dip of her body. As much as the distraction was welcome, I felt that it clouded a lot of things I should be putting at the front of my mind. The case itself was doomed. I'd lost good men and an hq.

I'd been in contact with Kira, telling her Peach and I would be coming but I'd also called Vittore and Dalia Martinelli, the Don and Donna of the Italian mafia. Should things stir chaos, I knew they'd offer any aid they could from weapons to fighters. The couple were good people and understood a lot on internal wars. I remember my father once saying that Vittore's half brother had it out for his Donna.

One thing I'd learnt in this life is that if you didn't respect another man's lover you were as good as dead.

That is why there are no men left alive to boast about their triumphant slaughter of my mother and Markov's family. I planned on avenging my uncle and that involved putting a bullet through the head of the fucker who was making me run around states like a mutt with a moving bone.

My first step though was seeing my sister and telling her about Markov. There were, officially, only two living members Makarovich line.

I woke up earlier than Peach, taking a shower from across the hall before changing into a set of dark jeans and the same pink hoodie I'd taken from her closet. It was comfortable to my surprise and it smelt feminine but had a small stale hint to it. When I was ready, I raked my fingers through my wet messy blond locks, trying to make them stay back until they dried.