AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Thank you,” Perla and I said together.
“You have a beautiful garden here. Can we go for a walk together?” He asked my father for permission, who looked at us before nodding.
It wasn't like we were going to be alone with him, there was a man to take care of every inch of that house, eyes watching everywhere to ensure our safety, but the butterflies in my stomach wouldn't leave me.
Luca took a step towards me, offered his hand to kiss the back of mine and did the same with my sister. Accommodating each of us in his arms and guiding us along the path that led to the center of the garden.
“Marco told me that you are interested in medicine. Is it true?”
“Yes.” I was caught off guard by the question the man asked me. Of the many things he might want to talk about, I didn't assume my dreams were one of them. “Going with my mother to the NGO I saw how much the simplest people need basic care, health is still very precarious in some parts of Rome, in addition to the refugees arriving all the time.”
“There are also needy people in Palermo.”
“I think so.” I tried to keep the smile, but I ended up swallowing again.
He turned his face, looking away from me to my sister and I was relieved.
“Your paintings are beautiful.”
“Did you see them?” Perla smiled and seemed much more excited about the conversation than I was.
“I ordered one last week at the art gallery.”
“Stop.” She looked away as if embarrassed. “It's just a childish hobby.”
“Imagine when you're painting as an adult, then. They will certainly be worth thousands of euros.”
“I didn't know you were a comedian.”
“I am not.”
I found the connection he was having with my sister strange. While I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, Perla seemed to feel at ease talking to the man. I let go of his arm and Luca continued holding hers as if he didn't care that I was gone.
“Oil takes a long time to dry, and I think the magic of watercolor is so incredible.”
Either he was faking it really well or he was showing the same interest in art that my sister had.
I didn't move away to leave them alone, because I wasn't going to abandon her, but I remained silent, just observing the conversation.
Chapter three
I didn't know what everything would be like after my father's death, or maybe I did. I just didn't want to accept this reality so that it wouldn't come too quickly. I never feared anything, and I would face any demon that appeared in front of me, there was no doubt about that. It was the reason for me to keep my head held high.
After the funeral, I went to the strip club my father used to go to. The same place where he met my mother. She was a Ukrainian who had left a village to become the mafia boss's favorite whore, but life had been much crueler to her than I would have liked, after having walked away from everyone she knew, only to be subjected to physical and psychological abuse, they also got her addicted to drugs. I was two years old when she died from an overdose and was found on the bathroom floor.
My father's men took me and turned me into a soldier and a deadly assassin. I strived to be the best and over time I ended up catching his attention.
Besides me, he only had one other son, the heir born from his devoted wife's womb. A woman who had died a few years ago and was buried in her own bitterness.
Igor had become the boss and I was almost certain that our feud would end the position I had built within the mafia. He was jealous of the attention our father gave me and I thought he was a piece of shit to take on the position he would now have.
I parked the motorcycle in front of the mansion and took off my helmet. I had lived there for the past five years, but I knew I would become an inconvenient presence with Igor running the place.
I was greeted by the soldiers with a nod and a short salute as they let me in. I walked through the front door, because I thought I was worthy, no matter how much Igor disagreed. Whether my brother agreed or not, my father had given me a room and a space in that house on my own merits.
I climbed the stairs to the top floor and walked down the hall to my door. I heard noises coming from Igor's room, but I ignored them. The less we crossed paths, the better for us.
I entered the room and took a carry-on suitcase from the wardrobe, collecting my belongings and throwing them inside it. I would find a place to live, I had more than enough money from my business to buy a nice apartment and keep me for a while, if Igor cut me off completely.
