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He leaned back, steepling his fingers. "I'm listening."
"I recently had an encounter with Crino Mancini," I began, scrutinizing his reaction.
He raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. "Oh? And what happened during this encounter?"
My father, Don Giovanni Fiore, sat across from me in his opulent study. The room exuded power and control, much like the man himself. I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my nerves.
"He revealed something before his demise," I continued, choosing my words carefully.
"Crino is dead?" The surprise in my father's voice was palpable, and I could see the initial signs of concern etching across his features.
"Yes," I confirmed, my voice unwavering.
"How did this happen?" His inquiry was sharp, a demand for details.
He leaned forward, eyes fixed on mine, awaiting an explanation.
"I killed him," I stated matter-of-factly, suppressing the tide of emotions that threatened to rise within me.
"You killed him?" His frown deepened, and a hint of disapproval laced his voice. "I expected you to handle this situation discreetly. Nevertheless, continue. Tell me how it unfolded."
Despite the weight of the moment, a slight tremor coursed through my hands. I fought to maintain a composed exterior.
"Father, what is of paramount importance, more so than the act of killing Crino, are his last words.” I paused, making sure I have my father’s full attention. “He claimed that the Mancini family was merely a pawn in a much larger game, orchestrated by a mastermind obscured in the shadows."
"A mastermind?" My father repeated, absorbing the gravity of the revelation. "Did he provide any indication of who this mastermind might be? Or what their motives are?"
I shook my head, the uncertainty of it all gnawing at me. "No specifics were given. But a force beyond the vendetta between our families is at play. This feud might be part of a larger, more intricate plan."
He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him, deep in thought. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. Was he hiding something?
"What's going on, Father?" I asked, my voice steady but tinged with urgency. "Do you have any knowledge of what Crino was hinting at?"
He met my gaze, his eyes steady, and replied, "No, Emilio. I'm as much in the dark as you are."
Yet, as he spoke those words, I caught a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a brief moment where fear and uncertainty danced before he masked it again. The realization shook me. He was lying.
When it came down to it, when the Fiore family was facing an opponent that could potentially unravel us, he chose to stay silent, keeping information to himself. My jaw clenched.
I nodded reluctantly. Trapped within a web of secrets, there was nothing left to say. I turned to leave, trepidation filling me. What was my father hiding? What could be so dire that he couldn't disclose it to me, even at this critical juncture?
I paused at the door, hesitating, but I did not dare to back at my father. The revelation about Crino’s words had opened a Pandora’s box. Our family, once established by a bedrock code of loyalty and honor, now seemed more like a hand of cards, precariously being gambled at a blackjack table.
Unraveling this tangled tapestry of hidden motives and concealed truths was no longer just about my freedom, not even about my possible future with Griselda. I had to get to the truth for my family’s sake.
The path ahead was unclear, but one thing was certain — I couldn't afford to be naive anymore. I had to immerse myself in the world of the Mafiosi to navigate the shadows of my father's world and emerge with the truth, no matter the cost.
Chapter 25
Griselda
Isettledintoacorner of my couch, phone clutched tightly in my hand, fingers nervously tapping against the device. Avery's face popped up on the screen as the call connected.
"Hey," Avery greeted with a cheery wave.
"Hey," I replied, attempting a weak smile.
“So, tell me, how’s your time off? Are you enjoying your impulsive vacation?” Avery asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
