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"Yes, Daddy. I understand."
CHAPTER NINE
DANTE
From the firsttime I saw Preacher, back when he was just Lloyd, I knew there was something different about it. My young mind thought he helped me because he didn't like bullies. Over time, I realized it was more that he hated to see me hurting. And in the years since we parted, I wondered so many times if he'd still be that way. Would he still care if I got upset or if he couldn't uncover my true feelings every time I claimed to be fine?
I could definitively say the answer was yes. He cared. He cared more than before it seemed.
As I sat in his lap contemplating where to start from, he stroked my back and waited patiently. It was as if no time had passed at all. The safe space he provided, the warmth of his hold. It all felt the same, yet a part of me knew time had passed. We weren't the same people. Our goals weren't the same as before.
Add to the fact that I left without explaining things to him, and... yeah. It was a mess.
"I don't know where to begin," I admitted after thinking it over way too long.
He gave a half chuckle as he pressed a kiss to my forehead. Tears instantly swam in my eyes at the gentle touch. It had been far too long since I'd felt it.
"You can pick anywhere to start. I might have questions to fill in the blanks that I don't know about, but otherwise I'll let you decide how to navigate."
I appreciated his desire to let me lead, though I hated that it put all the work on me. Logically, I knew where to begin. I just hated it. I hated every second of thinking back to those memories, and I couldn't possibly express how much I wished I'd have changed my course back then. I wish I'd been stronger. The man I was now wouldn't have allowed Preacher and me to be split apart.
But I wasn't this version of myself back then. And without a time machine, the past would likely stay the past.
"I guess we should start on the day I left," I began as my mind drifted to the memories of that time.
My father had summoned me so early that the sun wasn't even close to rising. The darkness of night still lingered in the halls, making the quiet more ominous than it needed to be.
"You called for me?" I asked once I reached his study.
He sat behind his desk, his body rigid and his eyes filled with rage. I didn't need him to speak to know that he'd found out. There wasn't anything else that would put that sort of rage in his expression. Nothing I'd done at least.
"How dare you desecrate the Romano name with that boy? I brought him into the fold, made him one of us. He was supposed to be your fucking right hand, but now you've gone and....and..."
"Fucked him? Yes, father. That's exactly what two consenting adults do." At twenty-three, I found myself well past the age where he could be scandalized by my sexual activity. Except, it wasn't just the fact that I was having sex. It was the specific person I had it with that upset him.
Homophobia was rampant in the organization. Men wanted to be strong and feared. They wanted no one to question their weakness. That often took the form of having a wife and family, but also having multiple mistresses. For some reason that screamed 'powerful mafia boss' more than the actual work we did.
That wasn't who I was. And I hadn't been for a long time. My father just hadn't known until recently. Very recently if I had to guess.
"You will end it immediately," he demanded instead of acknowledging what I'd said.
I shook my head. "I won't. I love him, and he loves me. There's not a chance in hell I'll let him go."
But then he smiled.
It was the same smile I'd seen him give enough times to know whatever he said next would be enough to make my skin crawl. He was going to force my hand on the issue.
"You no longer have a choice. Since I knew you well enough to know you might fight me, I've made... other arrangements."
I ground my jaw as I waited for him to continue. If there was a way out of this, then I'd find it. Whatever loophole I could use, I would.
My father continued despite my obvious anger. "Your bags are being packed as we speak. The rest of your items will be shipped to you. Your destination is known only by your driver and security escort for safety purposes. Your phone is to be destroyed and a new one issued in six months. If you follow all the guidelines laid out for you, then nothing bad will come to be."
"And if I don't?" I could tell from the gleam in his eye that he was excited to tell me just what type of blackmail he planned to deliver. Whatever it was, I knew I could and would handle it. He's been torturing me since I was a child. He called it "lessons" back then, but as a grown man, I now knew it wasn't anything more than an old man using me for his own morbid entertainment.
"If you don't, then I'll have Salvatore teach your precious Preacher a lesson."
I froze at the mention of Salvatore de Santis. He was known as The Butcher for a reason. The man mutilated his victims with ease, often to the point of not being recognizable. It was a horrible way to die, reserved for only the most disloyal of the organization.
