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“Enzo, what is it?” My frustration builds.
The plane hit the ground half an hour ago, and we’ve been sitting in the back of this Volvo for quite some time. I’ve been replying to emails as Enzo flips through file upon file.
We left last night as soon as I saw what was on Rolando’s phone. It didn’t take me long to find it. He has been trying to get the marriage between Nina and Kirill back on track. I knew in that moment I had to go and sort this shit out if I want her to be mine.
I have my suspicions about my father, but nothing is confirmed yet.
“Boss, I suggest you look through this yourself.” He hands me the envelopes. Different ones from the warehouse.
I share a glare with Enzo as I take out the papers. The car’s engine roars as we speed up the hill to my father’s estate.
I piece together what is written on these papers. “Am I reading this correctly?”
“Yes. They used the Romanos’ name as a cover.”
I blink hard, trying to escape the situation I am in. There is no way in hell this is happening right now.
I rub my eyes, trying to gather the strength to read the rest.
“What do you need me to do?”
“Just let me fucking think for a second.”
Everything is beginning to make sense now. I can’t walk into my own house anymore without a threat.
As if I could ever forget how I watched my own mother die in front of me, I am going to watch my father die the same way.
“Il cazzo?”he says, looking down at me as I watch him trying to undress my mother.
He doesn’t succeed—I try to shoot him exactly where he shot my mother, but my aim is off because I’ve never shot a gun before.
I place a bullet in his shoulder. He stumbles back, breathless and confused.
He tries to take his gun off his back, but he can’t because he’s laying all his weight on it.
Adrenaline fills my veins as I grab the knife from the man’s holster and decide to cut his ear off. He’s going to die either way for what he’s done to my mother, but he won’t hear her struggling to breathe.
With one ear detached, I slam the knife into his heart—slowly, so he can feel the life leaving his body.
With my hands covered in his blood, I hear more gunshots coming from the driveway.
The familiar sound of my father’s voice echoing off the pavement as he calls for his wife.
When she doesn’t answer, he stumbles into the door with fear flooding his eyes. It’s the only moment I’ve ever seen my father scared of something.
“Giovanni.” He looks down at me with my hands still holding the knife I plunged into the stranger’s chest.
I’m at a loss for words. I have no idea what to say to him. It’s his fault he wasn’t here to protect us. That’s one of his only duties as a man: protect his family.
A painful burst of air escapes my lungs as I cry, stumbling back from the man I killed. I hold my mother’s head on my lap as her lifeless eyes stare back into mine.
He walks over to the love of his life. He takes two of his fingers and closes her eyes shut.
My father grabs my index finger and the knife out of the dead man’s heart. He presses the tip of the blade into my finger, drawing blood.“Sei un uomo adesso”are the only words he speaks.
I am a man now.
I took a life, and I’m only twelve.
