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"Correction," he looks me up and down, "I wanted you to think that I wanted you to become the Don."
"Why," I shake my head trying to understand what his intentions are, "Why would you do this?"
"Why would I hold a gun to your wife’s head?" His lips curve, "You know why. You let it become personal, Capo. You allowed her to get to you. You went against everything I taught you."
"Everything you taught me?" I explode, "You didn’t teach me shit, you bastard."
"Technically, I am not a bastard. Neither are you, for that matter." He shakes his head, "American insults; they’re so predictable, don’t you think?"
"There’s enough American in me to use the insult when it fits the occasion."
"That was my first mistake. Agreeing to let you go to the US to study. You came back, not just with an American accent, but with their sensibilities as well, which don’t fit in with our way of life."
"What doesn’t fit in with our way of life is you."
"And you?" His lips kick up, "You are going to modernize the ways of the Mafia, eh? Bring us into the digital age with your virtual businesses? The very nature of which has resulted in this mess."
"It did," I agree. "The virtual businesses which you mock are so profitable that it led to my partners trying to betray me to get a hold of it, but thanks to you," I allow my own lips to curve in a smile, "I’ve not only sorted that out, but at the same time, I’ve made allies of our closest rivals."
"You’d engage in a partnership with our enemies?" My father’s features harden. "That is a recipe for disaster."
"What is a recipe for disaster is that you still have your gun trained on my wife."
"What are you going to do about it?"
I curl my fingers around the trigger and the Don shakes his head, "Don’t do it; not unless you want to see your wife’s brains all over the ground."
Karma pales and her fingers holding the gun tremble. He leans around, grabs the gun from her. I stiffen, take a step forward, but he wiggles his gun in my direction. I pause, take in Karma’s features. Her chin wobbles, but her gaze never wavers. Magnificent woman. She squares her shoulders and firms her lips. She’s scared, but she’s trying her best not to show it. I hold her gaze for a second longer, then turn my attention to my father. "What do you want?"
"You. Dead," he points her gun at me, then releases the safety. The sound is loud in the silence, broken only by the sound of the hot metal of the cars contracting as they release some of their heat into the air.
She winces, but doesn’t give any other sign of the fear I am sure grips her right now.
"I thought you wanted your legacy to continue."
"It’s why I have five sons."
"Four," I say in a low voice, "you have four sons left."
"Too bad about Alessandro," he raises a shoulder, "but the way he was going… He wasn’t worth the Mafia name."
"You?" Anger clouds my brain and my pulse rate ratchets. Something hot stabs at my chest. "You?" I manage to form the word with my tongue. "You were behind the rigging of the car? You killed him?"
"An accident." For a second, he seems almost contrite, then his features smooth out again. "I hadn’t meant for the bomb to kill him."
My gut clenches and my vision tunnels. He killed him? My father killed my brother? He killed Xander? I clench my fingers around the trigger of my gun. I am going to kill the bastard myself. But I don’t yet have a clear shot.Merda!I glare down the barrel of my gun at him, force my muscles to relax, "But you did intend to kill her?"
"Something to distract you from your path to taking over as Don."
"I don’t understand." I shake my head. "You encouraged me to become Don; you are my father."
"So?" He raises a shoulder, "Doesn’t mean I ever have to step down. I intend to stay at the helm of the Mafiosa for a long, long time…but you, were becoming too great a threat."
"You’d kill me, rather than see me succeed?"
"And then I’d still have three sons." He raises a shoulder, "Enough to continue my lineage, when the time comes."
"You’ve lost it," I growl.
