His Anger and His pain

Something caught Alvan's eyes. Black dress moving swiftly and elegantly yet lethally. The daggers in her hands that reflected the moonlight were now coated in thick red liquid. She looked like a banshee, a fucking angel of death. Her red hair appearing darker in the darkness . It was completely out of place, flying wildly with the night wind and somehow blending in with the chaos around her.

There was nothing pure about the way she looked. Splutters of blood dripped from her face to her dress. Her hands were sparsely covered with her opponents' blood, dripping from her arms and collecting at her fingertips and dagger and then dropping on the ground under her.

She did a flip and kicked a man on his head. He fell face down. She sank her dagger into his body without hesitation.

Panting heavily, she got up on her feet and staggered like she was going to pass out any second.

He pointed his gun at her. Her defiant eyes found him and she remained unfazed. The anger and hatred in her eyes were evident.

She threw a dagger at him. He dodged it and she threw another. He dodged it too and smirked in her direction but she had vanished.

He gritted his teeth in annoyance, "Bitch."

***

Alvan walked into his father's office already prepared to face his wrath. He was on edge, he was angry and he was frustrated but he could do nothing about his situation.

"You let her walk away," Omri stood up on his feet and yelled at him.

Alvan clenched his jaw, "She threw her daggers at me and disappeared into thin air."

"You had a gun with you, didn't you?"

"And you clearly stated not to kill her," Alvan bit back.

"Word came to me that you didn't even try to stop her when you had the chance."

Omri stayed silent for a while. The tension in the room was building up. Both men had this predatory stance. Hot blood coursed through Alvan's veins. He wanted so badly to rebel against his father but he was bound by loyalty to his family and to his mafia.

"I see that you are displeased about your marriage with the Salvatore girl but you don't exactly have a choice," he walked to the other side of the table where Alvan stood. "That marriage is going to happen. I don't care how many people have to die for it to happen."

Clearly, he was cornered but he tried to push his luck one more time.

"But Diana is my girlfriend."

"I don't bloody care! Make her your mistress. Of what benefit will your marriage to Diana be to our mafia? It is either Gia Salvatore or Diana dies!" Omri said, his voice dripping with venom.

Alvan was devastated. His father was always cold and heartless but for once he wished that the man would hear him out.

He didn't want to get married to Gia Salvatore, a bloody Salvatore, an enemy and for what? To fulfill his own father's selfish interests.

He could not imagine breaking such news to Diana. He didn't care so strongly for her but he didn't want to hurt her like that.

"Yes sir," Alvan said resignedly. He couldn't risk provoking his father any further. Diana could lose her life because of him.

"Gia is both a compensation and an asset. Your duty as her husband is to manipulate her and bring her on our side. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"This is purely business, Alvan. You're not doing me a favor, this is for the mafia. Your mafia. We are going to use this marriage as leverage over Capri and slowly take away the autonomy of the Redneck Syndicate."

Omri walked back to his seat and sat down. "Draft your marriage contract. We are going to pay the Salvatores a visit in a week to see what they have for us."

"Yes sir."

"Get your life in order. Your wedding is in two weeks. I don't need to explain to you what needs to be done, do I?" Omri asked coldly.

"No sir."

He waved his hand dismissively and Alvan turned to leave when his father spoke again.

"And Alvan?" Omri called out. "You need to man up. It's just marriage not the end of the world. For once, be a man, be like a son of mine and act like the heir to this mafia."

Alvan clenched his fist and bolted out of the office. He felt so suffocated by his father.

He hated the arrangement. He hated the marriage and so he hated Gia too. She was the reason Luca was dead and his father could never have faith in him. He was hurt, angry and bitter.

Whether she was Dana or she was Gia, he was going to make her regret her betrayal for the rest of her life.

"Alvan," his mother called out when she saw him at the foyer. She ran to him and hugged her precious son, "Is he still going through with the marriage?"

His arms never moved to hug her back but instead , they stayed stiffly at his sides and she didn't seem to mind at all.

"What do you think?" he snapped at her.

She pulled away and looked at him, "I will talk to him. Just give me some time."

"What difference will it make? It's not like he listens to you anyway or anyone at all."

Valeria was short of words. She felt so helpless about the events surrounding her son's life. His entire life was dictated by his father and she hated herself for being so weak. If only she had just stood up against him from the start. Maybe, just maybe things would have been better.

"Your father wants the best for you, you know that right?"

"Tell that to ten year old Alvan. All he cares about is money and power. Nothing else matters to him."

"Don't say that out loud," she hushed him and looked around to make sure that no one was watching or listening to them. "I know that you're angry but try to make the most out of this situation."

"How mamma? I'm getting married to a stranger when I already have a girlfriend. Not just any stranger, a Salvatore. How am I supposed to make the most out of that?" he asked her in frustration.

"What?" Diana gasped from the entrance. "Getting married to who? This is some twisted humour, right? Because it has to be," Diana said in surprise.

She walked towards him, her heels clicking on the floor with each step she took. Her black hair was straightened to perfection. She was wearing a red mini dress that was very tight and outlined her hourglass figure.

Alvan ran a hand through his hair. The day was full of layers of trouble. One trouble popping up after another.

"Break things off with her for your own good," his mother whispered to him before giving them room to talk. She meant well and he knew it but he couldn't do what she said.

A few men from the Mafia stepped into the foyer, discussing their previous mission and another small group walked in discussing football.

Alvan sighed and held Diana by her wrist, "Come, let's talk somewhere else."

Diana was hesitant at first but she needed an explanation of what was going on.

She felt hurt and betrayed. She wanted to scream at him, she wanted to throw her stilettos at him but a part of her knew that it would yield nothing. She prayed silently in her heart that the marriage had nothing to do with his father because their relationship would be doomed.

Alvan took her to his room and asked her to sit down.

"Start talking," she said instead.

"You should watch how you talk to me, Diana. I don't want any of this and my father just sprang it up on me out of nowhere."

"Aren't you going to fight for us?" she asked in between tears and anger. "Do you even love me?"

Alvan closed his eyes in annoyance to help dissipate his anger, "I wish I could. I really wish I could but my hands are tied. This marriage changes nothing between us."

He pulled her flush against himself by her waist.

"I don't want to be your mistress, Alvan! I want to be your wife!" she said with tears running down her face. She pushed him away and glared at him.

"I'm afraid that can't happen," he told her firmly.

"I refuse to accept this, Alvan. We can talk to your father or come up with something."

"You will have to come to terms with that. We both knew that this was inevitable. There's nothing we can do about it and you'll just have to deal with it," he said harshly and walked out on her.

He didn't really love her. His feelings for her were very complicated. She was there mostly to fulfill his desires. He didn't really want to be with her but letting her go was even harder for him. A part of him hoped that he could fall in love with her but he never really did.

And that same part knew he was always going to be in love with a certain gray-eyed girl that haunted his dreams.