Notes:
'Italics' = German
'Regular' = Italian
I mean this as in, when my OC is speaking and it is in italics, then it means she's speaking German. And when it's in regular font, than it means that she is speaking Italian. Technically speaking, they're all speaking Italian and not English, but I'm just doing this as a reminder so that everyone will know. I'm not a fan of putting something in the actual language and then having to go back and put the translations so I'm just going to do it this way.
Il Principe e la Principessa
The Vongola Famiglia's Elite Independent Assassination Team – was full of absolute and completely psychopathic persons. It was something that was well known throughout the mafia—so why was it that I had to be categorized with them? Looking down at the piece of paper in my hand, that stated 'TRANSFER' in big bold letters at the top, I could only grit my teeth and wonder, what the hell the Vongola IX was thinking. Whilst most people would have taken it as a compliment to be sent to a team that had 'elite' in their name, I only took this as a personal insult and blow to my ego. "He's just asking for me to get killed, isn't he?" I groaned as I clutched the paper tighter and resisted the temptation to crumble it up and throw it away. For the past two weeks, I had been vacationing in Deutschland with my parents, and it was today that I had received word of the latest catastrophe in my life.
I was of mixed genealogy on both accounts of my parent's background – though it was my mother who would ultimately be the reason why I had decided to become a Mafioso. She was pureblooded Italiano; whilst my father was pureblooded Deutsch. It was my grandfather – her father – that had relations with the Vongola and had introduced me to the Vongola IX, at the age of seven, when I had spent a summer with him. It was then and there that I had decided what I wanted to be. Most kids had said they wanted to be a doctor, lawyer or athlete – I always stated that I wanted to be a mafia member. Naturally, I always got in trouble for it with my parents, but I never strayed from my dream. By the time I was nine, whenever I went to my grandfather's house in Sicily, I would be trained by him to become the best Mafioso that I could be. At fourteen, once I had officially moved from Deutschland, I was formally given the title of a famiglia member of the Vongola.
I was sixteen now, and you can only imagine how angry I was at the prospect of being sent to live with some of the most insane -- and brutal -- people I thought existed. "What the hell was he thinking?" The words escaped my lips in a growl, but I kept my need to destroy something at bay and instead turned around and looked at my mother who had called my name. She was currently standing in the entrance way of our home. "Yeah, Mamma?" I called back, switching to Italian since she preferred to speak her native language when at home. My voice was strained and I hoped she didn't notice. I didn't want her to know about the transfer – she was already upset enough, that I had left home at such an early age to go to school in L'Italia – or at least, that was what my parents thought. The last thing she needed to know, was that I had joined the mafia and as of today, was officially an assassin for said group of people. Imagine learning that your sixteen year old daughter was going off to live with a bunch of brutal murderers in less than a week? She would have had a heart attack and my father would never let me live it down.
"Come, lunch is on." She smiled, her brown eyes, that I had adopted from her, shining. That was another prospect of my mother that I could not stand at times. The look she had in her eyes made me want to burst out into tears when I was hiding something from her, because it was so innocent and loving. For a woman her age, she surely did not act it, and I sometimes had to wonder how in the world she had come to get married, let alone become pregnant with me. She was just too sweet.
"Alright, I'll be there in a second!" I yelled back in reply, before shooting a smile her way just so that it could off-set my voice. Despite the fact that I may have been able to be seemingly impassive around my enemies, my mother was a completely different story. The one true weakness I had that topped all others was my parents. I cared for them too much; which was a bad thing in my line of occupation. Only just turning back around, when I made sure she had gone back inside, I folded up my transfer paper and slipped it into an inside pocket of my jacket, before biting my bottom lip. Going to live with the Varia was not going to be easy -- I had to prepare myself.
Author's Note: I don't think there is much I need to say except that updates will be irregular and I would really appreciate it if you would leave a review, if you're going to put this on your favorites or alerts lists. I've had a ton of people who have added my other story to either their favorites or alert list and do not review. There is nothing that ticks me off more than that. I can stand not getting reviews but doing something like that just irks me beyond belief. So please, if you're going to do that than take the time to review. It won't take long and it doesn't have to be a whole story; it's just the thought that counts, so please.