The Long Lost Mafia Prince

Chapter 31 - Addio, IL Mio Re

~~

Regina POV

My eyes widened slightly before hardening in indifference and going back to my captive's gaze. "So? Why do I care if you have him?"

He raised a brow, then said, "I think you should know what happens now, Regina. Either hand us over your Mafia, or he's dead." Cavillor then pressed a gun that came out of nowhere into the male's black hair.

Normally, when taking over a Mafia, papers are not needed. Once the leaders are dead along with any possible heir, the killer would then instantly have the position. And in a circumstance such as this where a Mafia leader wants to merge Mafias, it would just be one big Mafia.

Now, why are the British Mafia leaders pushing for a formality? Easy. To humiliate us.

The Italian Mafia, who had been in the top spot for years unending, finally had been eradicated from the title of the most powerful illegal organization in the world and had now been replaced by the British Mafia.

They want to announce that our Mafia isn't strong or powerful, and take all the glory for themselves. And take all generations of Luciano's hard work.

Well, I say hell no.

Glancing at my family member who knelt on the floor, I read his eyes and knew what I had to do.

Steeling myself with determination and forced uncaringness, I looked back at Cavillor with as much arrogance as my position could be of entail, and said with nonchalance, "Do it, then."

He wasn't expecting that.

"W-wha--"

"Do it, Cavillor. Kill him. I know that I would never give up my responsibility to my Mafia over anything. So, do it. Kill him." I stated with a challenge in my voice.

The blonde raised a brow. "So, you're telling me, that you would rather keep the Mafia than keep him alive?"

"Yes."

I answered, but wasn't looking at him anymore. I was staring at the silver-eyed male that was kneeling on the floor, acceptance in his eyes. I hoped that he could see the deep apology in my eyes. I wished that he saw how much I didn't want his life to end like this. I prayed that he would never find it in himself to forgive me because I knew that I would never forgive myself for this.

With warmth in his eyes, a single gunshot resounded, embedding itself in his head. His eyes that held pride for me, forgiveness, and love were soon filled with nothingness. With soullessness. With lifelessness.

And just like that, Ricardo Luciano was dead.

~~

Cavillor had long since left, leaving my father's body in the room. Probably to taunt me. And taunt it did.

Memories upon memories flooded in my mind like an overflowing tsunami. A tsunami that had been blockaded by a wall that surrounded my heart.

The first time he taught me how to use a gun.

With a blank face that seemed natural for her, six-year-old Regina said, pointing to the gun in her father's hand, "Voglio imparare." {I wanna learn.}

"Ma, cara, sei troppo giovane…" He tried to reason with her, but Regina Luciano wasn't having any of it. {But, dear, you're too young…}

"I don't care."

"Bene." {Fine}

The first time that I had killed someone.

"Cosa è successo?!" He asked, still horrified at the scene before him. {What happened?!}

"È morto." {He's dead.}

He motioned for the ten-year-old Regina to come closer, and she did. Once she was at arm's length, he took her by her shoulders, looking her over for any signs of injury or such.

"Stai bene, cara?" He asked her softly. {Are you alright, dear?}

The first time my bloodlust activated.

"I don't fucking know how I got this, okay?! All I know is that I want to see blood right now! I want… I want… I want to kill!" She snapped.

Sighing, Ricardo and his daughter of twelve years of age stared down at each other, neither of them wanting to be the first to submit. Finally, Ricardo made his move.

He opened his hand towards her and said, "Come. I'll bring you to the torture chambers so you can do all you want there."

More memories flashed before my eyes. Padre never once had said anything about my strangeness of being a bloodthirsty child. He had indulged in what I wanted and needed, even if that was to create a mess of crimson everywhere. He had accepted who I was, and was even proud of it.

But I shut him out.

I shut everybody out.

Why? I don't know. I never had any big traumatic experience or some shit when I was younger; I was just born like this. But even so, why couldn't I have opened up my heart to my father? To my… Dad?

Hell, I can't even remember one moment I told him that I loved him!

This brought tears to my eyes that I didn't dare let go of. Fuck, what kind of a daughter was I?! In all the seventeen or so years of my life never once had I said that I loved him. That I loved my own father!

I shut my eyes tight, willing the tears to retreat. An-and now, he'll never be able t-to hear me say it. I-I… I will never have the chance to make up for all those years of my neglect of my own father, unlike what he did to me.

He took care of me the best he could as a single father. Never o-once had he ordered a nanny or a babysitter for me. He was the one who had always taken care of m-me. Other children who had rich parents were always neglected, but… But in my case, it was the other way around.

And, of course, the last time we saw each other, we just had to be fighting. My last moments with you and we weren't even on good terms!

Oh, Dad. I-I wish I could turn back time. I wish I could g-go back and tell you those words. Damn it, those were only eight letters, but why was it so damn hard for me to have said? Why?!

Now… I will never have the chance to say it.

Staring at his pale face in front of me, I closed my eyes, and as a lone tear fell from my eye, I whispered to the air, knowing that my words would never be heard by whom I want them to be heard.

"Ti amo, Papà. Addio, il mio re." {I love you, Dad. Goodbye, my king.}

~~

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