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“Hey, Maddy, it’s good to see you again, man. Real good to see you,” Aaron says. In our last encounter, I drove his face into Bruno Romani’s dining room table. He can barely maintain eye contact with me, now.
“Sure,” I say, before greeting the rest of my siblings, one by one.
Benjamin and I take our seats. He pours me a glass of orange juice. The room is rife with tension, although—incredibly— I believe it’s only me feeling it. I take a sip of the juice, and reach over the table for a slice of toast. No one speaks. They all keep their eyes on me as I move. It’s as if I’m some kind of endangered animal that they’re all lucky to be observing.
“Any word on the streets about who killed Bruno Romani?” I ask, slathering a healthy layer of butter onto the already cold toast.
“Lots of people are in the frame,” Father replies. “But don’t tell me you’re here just to talk business, boy?”
“I told you on the phone. That’s literally the only reason I’m coming over.” I take my first bite of toast. Even with the butter, it’s dry.
“We’ve got to celebrate, at least.” Father raises his hands into the air as if pleading for me to accept.
“There’s no time to celebrate. The funeral is in a few days, and I need to have someone to point a finger at, by then.” I take another bite.
“What does that even matter, really?” Father cocks a brow, leaning in and spooning scrambled eggs into his plate. My brothers and sister follow. “The old man’s dead. It was going to happen sooner or later. Why dwell on the past when we can move forward and conquer this world together?”
“It’s my duty to seek vengeance for our fallen king. I made a promise to Isabella,” I reply. It’s the only thing I can do, as a way to settle her mind about this.
Whom am I kidding? It’s a way for me to ease my own mind, in failing to protect him.
“Bruno’s dead and you owe her nothing. You’re at the top of the food chain, son. Why not—”
“They might come after me the same way they did Bruno. Now, that’s the end of it. Have you heard anything or not?” I demand.
I’m no longer the oldest son in a family that doesn’t want me. My very presence demands respect, no matter where I’m sitting. Father’s eyes go wide at my protest. I can see the rage building inside, but he’s too smart to say anything out loud.
“No, I haven’t heard a thing. The Slaters and Harrisons have been quiet since the wedding. Hell, the whole world’s been quiet since the wedding,” Father replies.
“And the rest of you?” I scan the room, looking at each, one by one. Each one gives me a no, in some manner or form.
“Then, I thank you for your time and the toast.” I down the glass of orange juice and get to my feet. “But, there really isn’t any more reason for me to stay.”
“Wait, Maddox, where are you going?” Father asks, not making any attempt to get out of his chair. He looks at me, puzzled by my actions. I’ve been an outcast to this family since the day I joined the Braddock organization. Years of being bashed and belittled don’t just disappear with a single breakfast. “We’ve finally made it. We hold all the cards in our hands,” Father says.
A chuckle escapes my lips. I start the short walk to his side, while he’s speaking.
“The Braddocks have always been a superior family. The only reason those Romanis hold any power at all is because of their heritage and lineage. Now, with that old man gone, we’re in charge. We’ve got all the power. Father’s eyes light up with glee while he’s speaking. If he’s not careful, he might start frothing at the mouth.
“Is that right?” I ask, taking a step to stand behind him. I rest my hands on his shoulders, and he looks upside down at me from his chair. “We’ve got all the power?”
He nods his head.
“No, we haven’t.” I lean forward and place a gentle kiss atop his forehead. His face scrunches up.
“I’ve got all the power. All of you; you have nothing.”
Father’s face goes red. I can tell he’s furious, without his having to say a word.
With that, I leave.
There’s really no point in holding onto a conversation that will lead me nowhere.
