A knock on my door, before it opens, pulls me from those thoughts. Mark.
“Hey. you remember dinner with your father, right? I’ve just seen him downstairs waiting.”
“Oh shit. I got carried away talking to the guys.”
I stand up and hurriedly change my shirt and spray on some deodorant. I haven’t had time to shower, so I need to mask any smells. I quickly wash my face and fuss with my hair until I look acceptable. Like a Silva. Because I need to act my ass off.
My phone buzzes with a text. Pedro.
P: I’ve made contact. They’ll meet with you tomorrow at eleven pm. I will forward you the location in the morning. It's only a thirty minute drive. Please be careful. They were on edge when I spoke to them. I think they’re expecting an attack so keep your cool, and text me when finished.
Me: Thank you. I will.
Yes. This will help in the dinner meeting tonight. I need to convince my father I'm serious. And what better way than bringing peace between rivals.
Walking into the dining room is like deja vu of our previous meal in terms of the layout and obnoxious dinnerware. The only difference is a new addition that makes me nauseous with disgust whenever I see it. My brother, Enrico. Not only have I got to fake my way through this dinner, I will have to physically restrain myself from launcing across the table to bleed the fucker.
I take my place to the right of my father, Enrico on the left, meaning I'm staring right across the table at the piece of shit that will soon know what consequences are. Revenge. I will make sure he feels as hopeless and afraid as he made Simon feel. But I need to be smart. The reward will be worth the wait.
“Tell me son, now that you have had the day to reflect. Are you ready to start work? To forget about your old life?” my father inquires as he cuts into the seabass on his plate. I have zero appetite, but I nevertheless force myself to be normal. Like nothing has happened to cause me to lose my appetite. I taste nothing as I eat a piece of the fish, I'm just doing the motions of eating, swallowing and repeat.
“Yes. I’ve actually been catching up on what I’ve missed, making sure I’m in the loop.”
My father reaches for his wine glass, but stops mid drink, looking at me with shock and a mild admiration.
“Really? Well that's great news. Anything you have heard in particular that you have any suggestions on? He asks before taking a sip of his wine.
“Actually, I was surprised to hear about the issues you’ve had with the Marins. It sounds like they have grown considerably since I left.”
He does a dismissive grunt while placing his glass back onto the table.
“They’re a nuisance. Greed has gotten the better of them, thinking they can take any of my holdings. Out of their depth.”
“I’ve never heard of them,” Enrico mumbles, stuffing his face like the piece of trash he is.
“That’s because you never watch and listen,” my father scolds him. It's like being teenagers again with the constant push and pull between them, just before my father would tell him to be more like me.
Before Enrico starts to kick off, starting another argument, I quickly move back to the topic, not wanting my father to lose track.
“I was thinking, it might be a good idea if I go meet with them? A little persuasion to make them back off for good.”
“You want to meet them?”
“Yes. It's a perfect opportunity for me to prove my loyalty. Plus the more I think about it, the more I remember how much I miss this place. I want to jump back in. No point tiptoeing.”
My father nods slowly, agreeing while processing what I've just said.
“I also think it would be a great opportunity to take Enrico along? Get him acquainted with meeting these people. Call it training.”
“You’re not seriously listening to him are you, Father? He just wants me to get hurt.”
“Oh if I want you to hurt, I’ll do it myself,” I provoke, and it works.
“You smug…” Enrico starts to say, but my father raises a hand to stop him.
“Hush, Enrico. Your brother has a point and I agree. You need to start becoming more involved with the business.”
“But why? Golden boy is back now. What use am I?”
