Page 1 of Savage Elites


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Ason

My destiny had been sealed, even before I was born.

I guess being the son of one of Savannah’s most notorious mafia Capo’s, Aiden Antoni, it was just expected that I would follow in his footsteps. My legacy defines me in ways that both excite and anger my soul.

I come from a family of power, wealth, and prestige. My father became a made man when he was a teenager. Not much older than what I am now—seventeen-years-old. He built an empire and has ran the Antoni Mafia Family with ease for years. I will inherit his empire and someday work for him and his crews, gaining a status and bank account that would set me up for the rest of my life.

The only problem; I don’t want any of it.

Not the power.

Not the endless supply of girls that seemed to pop up everywhere I went.

Not even the money I was destined to inherit even before I was an adult.

Though, I wished more than anything that I could say those things aloud, I just couldn’t.

I knew that there were men who would literally kill to be born into a powerful mafia family like mine. Even my ‘uncles,' Ryder and Solly, had fought with their lives to get into our family. I knew that saying I didn’t want to be part of the mafia would surely destroy my father—so that’s why I shut my mouth and pretended to enjoy every moment I endured.

A slap on my shoulder jolted me from my thoughts as I stared out over the vast landscape of my house.

“Son, what are you doing?” my father asked, as he stepped out onto the porch.

His dark hair was starting to show flecks of gray, but he still looked suave and dangerous as always. His brooding personality had everyone around him trembling with fear, but I had never really been afraid of my dad. He was different with me and my mom. Gentle and loving—a stark contrast to the persona he worked so hard to obtain. But still, there was a darkness that surrounded him that on occasion, had me slightly fearing what he was capable of.

“Hey, dad. I just got home from hanging out with the guys,” I replied.

I was still in my school uniform and the gentle breeze from the willow trees made the air feel nice.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, glancing down at his gold watch. “I have a meeting in an hour, but your coach called me this morning,” he began, his dark eyes narrowing on me.

Sighing, I ran a hand through my dark hair. I knew that I was in hot water with my coach. He knew about my skipping class lately and my dad had on more than one occasion, caught me paying other students at school to take tests for me.

“What about?” I asked, acting as though I didn’t have a clue as to what could be wrong.

Dad leaned against one of the stone pillars on our back deck. “Ason, your coach was close to kicking you off the team. You are failing several classes and skipping. I had to pay for new stadium seating at the ball field to entice him to keep you on the team. Things need to change,” he warned.

I heard the anger in his voice and knew he was pissed, but I didn’t bother to look away from the fading sunset that lit up the evening sky. Reds, oranges, and purples were painted before me, almost like mother nature was creating a masterpiece.

“Ason, do you have anything to say about this?” he asked, his tone sharp like a double-edged sword.

This time, I glanced back at my father. I knew that he thought what he was doing the best for me, but really, he was only adding to the suffocation I felt. I wish I had the nerve to tell him that I hated my preppy school and all of the assholes that filled the classes. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t care about my baseball team or becoming another guy in his mafia world. I didn’t, though and knew that I never would.

“I’m sorry,” I said, trying to sound sincere.

My mom opened the glass French doors that led from our kitchen out onto the patio. A smile struck her face and I saw my dad soften a bit at the sight of her. They had this weird kind of love that sometimes made me sick. I guess it was the only nice thing in my life—I had parents who actually loved one another. Most men in the mafia cheated on their wives and had mistresses hidden all over the city, but not the Antoni men. They loved fiercely and with a protection that can only be described as animalistic. In their kingdoms, they are the kings and there is only room for one queen.

“Ason, you know your dad and I love you very much, right?” mom asked, glancing between me and my dad.

I knew that she could feel the tension growing between us and she hated when we fought. Unfortunately, our bickering had become a daily thing around here.

“I know, mom,” I sighed. I wish they would just get off my back. This was my senior year and I just wanted to enjoy it as best as I could.

My dad pushed himself off the pillar and stood next to me. “Get up, Ason,” he ordered.

This time, I didn’t try to act indifferent. My dad was royally pissed and I knew that I needed to listen to him.

Standing, I stood there between my parents, watching as creases formed in their brows as they grew frustrated with me and my attitude.

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