As we make our way through the airport to the cars waiting for us outside, my ears hone in on the distant sounds of honking horns, samba music bleeding from car radios, people yelling in fast Portuguese—it all makes my chest tighten, not in panic, but in something close to relief. Memory. Belonging. Reminders of times that are in the past.
It didn’t matter how long I’d been away from my homeland, Brazil had waited. Not gently. Not softly. But fiercely like an old friend who never learned how to whisper. And now that friend had me back, greeting me home to the chaos.
“Carlos, welcome home,” an old familiar face and voice greets me. Bruno. My father’s longest serving friend. Loyal to his very core. He has aged since I last saw him. Strands of silver cover his previous thick black hair. But he still maintains the broad shoulders and firm body. Bruno’s passion has always been boxing. Him and my father used to spar a lot in their younger days. I’m actually surprised he has shown up to greet us. I reach out and shake his hand.
“Bruno, good to see you. These are my men, Simon and Mark. You remember Lucas and my idiot brother.”
“Yes, how could I forget. Enrico, your father is looking forward to seeing you.”
“I’m sure he is. Can we go now? I’m starving,” Enrico complains, and we all pile into our respective cars.
“Simon, you go with Mark and Enrico. Lucas, stay with me,” I say, and Simon goes to speak, but holds himself back without saying anything and following the others to their car. I don’t want him in sight of Bruno. I have a feeling the journey will be filled with words of manipulation and it's better to have Lucas with me who understands how this family works. The dynamic.
I’m grateful to get inside the air conditioned car, which cools me down instantly. Bruno sits up front with the driver while I sit in the back with Lucas. After we start our journey, Bruno begins to talk.
“Your father has been counting down the days to your return, Carlos. It is never a good feeling when family abandons you.”
I want to roll my eyes at the blatant attempt at guilt tripping me, but it won’t work. I feel no guilt for anything in my life. Everything happens as it is meant to.
“He’ll get over it.”
“You should be here, where you belong. The family business has always fallen to the first born son. It is your duty, Carlos.”
“Give it to Enrico. We’ve had this conversation many times. I’m not coming back. Besides, this has nothing to do with you. It’s between me and my father.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Your actions affect us all. Your father should never have agreed to let you go to that god forsaken country.”
“It's my home and I’ve made a great life for myself.”
“It’s a sin, living there, leaving your blood to suffer.”
“Oh I’m sorry, is dealing in arms and killing not a sin?”
Lucas reaches out and squeezes my knee. I look at him and he quickly shakes his head. Warning me not to go too far. But my mouth can’t help it. I’m not the little bitch boy. I deserve respect too.
“You forget yourself, boy. You’re not in America anymore.”
“Obviously,” I snark and gaze out of the window. We drive along the coastline as the roads become quieter and the trees and land denser. I may dislike my family, but Brazil always has my heart. The beauty of the ocean, the land peaks that remind me of the pyramids in Egypt in the ocean. Before long, the large familiar black gates appear, the entrance to the Silva empire. It's a ridiculously large mansion. It's more like a hotel. It screams money and power, with a hint of narcissism.
As our car comes to a stop, I see my father standing outside the large cream double doors that form the entrance to the property. He stands like the original mafia guy. Expensive white suit that should be too hot for this weather. His sun damaged skin looks darker against the light material. His hair is still as dark as mine and that convinces me that he dyes it.
As I get out of the car, the other guys pull up behind us and get out to stand beside me.
“Boys, finally home where you belong,” he says with his arms wide open, pretending he is the affectionate father he should be. He wasn’t and isn’t. The guy is cold and evil. Something I inherited. The only thing I’m thankful for.
“Father,” I greet, shaking his hand. “This is Simon, Mark, and of course you know Lucas.” He nods and smiles in acknowledgement.
“Simon and Mark, this is my father, Gabriel Silva.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” Mark says, but Simon remains quiet, his eyes flitting between me and my father. He sees the likeness and I don’t think he likes it.
“Let’s get inside, dinner will be ready in an hour and we have a lot to catch up on. Your guards can eat with the others. Diogo and Caio, please show them to their rooms.”
These two guards are not ones I’ve met. I have to admit, my father has great taste in the men he hires. Caio is tall, has black hair that's just long enough to put behind his ears. He is the typical hot Brazilian that you would expect. Model worthy. Diogo is paler, he has large green eyes and dark curly brown hair. His face is a little more sinister, with a sharp nose and crooked grin. Tattoos cover his neck and hands, and I assume, under the light blue suit, cover his whole body.
“Carlos, what am I supposed to do?” Simon hisses behind me, looking like a fish out of water.
“Go with Mark and get settled. Do whatever he or Lucas tells you to do. You’re just here to work. Okay?”
