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But beneath the facade of normalcy, questions lingered, and Sophia's curious gaze bore into me. She was determined to understand my world's intricacies and peel back the layers of the mafia's history.
"Matteo," her voice, soft but probing, broke the morning silence, "I've been thinking... what kind of grudge did Francisco hold against your father? Why would he want to take control of the family business so badly?"
Her inquiry hung in the air, and I realized it was time to offer her an unvarnished glimpse into the tangled web of our family's past. I set my coffee cup down, the clink against the saucer punctuating the weight of the conversation.
"It's complicated," I began, my gaze drifting to the table as though the answers lay hidden within the wood grains. " Francisco was supposed to become the Don before my father. He's older, and by tradition, he should have been the one to lead our family."
Sophia nodded attentively, her eyes fixed on me.
"But my grandfather saw something in my father, something that made him believe he was the right choice," I continued. "I don't know exactly why my grandfather made that decision. Maybe it was a gut feeling, or perhaps he saw qualities in my father that he thought Francisco lacked. Now, with how hellbent Francisco is on reverting to the old ways, I think I can understand why my grandfather didn’t choose him."
“The old ways?” Sophia questioned.
I nodded, sipping my coffee as I continued. "The old ways... they refer to the methods and activities our mafia families used to engage in, especially back in the day. It's everything from dealing drugs and illicit substances to controlling arms trafficking. These were some of the ways the families amassed wealth and power in the past."
Sophia's eyes widened at the revelation. "So, your father wanted to take the family in a different direction, away from these... illegal activities?"
"Yes," I affirmed. “He wanted to make our family more respectable, to distance us from the criminal elements."
A hint of nostalgia crept into my voice as I remembered my father's unwavering determination. "He envisioned a future where our family would be known for prosperity, not just fear. But, unfortunately, not everyone shared that vision."
Sophia's gaze remained fixed on me, her curiosity unabated. "And Francisco?"
"Francisco was adamant about returning to the old ways," I explained, a tinge of frustration seeping into my words. "He believes it's the only path to maintaining our family's dominance, and he's willing to do anything to get there, even if it means tearing our family apart. To him, power is everything. That’s all he cares about."
The memories of countless arguments and power struggles loomed as I continued my tale.
"Anyway, Francisco was deeply hurt by my grandfather’s decision. No matter how much my father tried to make amends, offered him a place by his side as a second in command, Francisco felt slighted like he'd been robbed of what was rightfully his, even though it wasn’t my father’s fault."
I paused, reflecting on those tumultuous years. "So, he left. It was quite a relief, even if my father wished he hadn't left. There was peace after he departed, no constant arguing.
Gradually, my father stopped feeling guilty, believing that if Francisco wanted to get what he desired, he had to work for it and not complain and get angry when it wasn't handed to him on a silver platter.
I paused and reflected before continuing, "A few years passed before he suddenly came back with a new attitude. He decided to follow my father, apologized for his previous behavior, and accepted the position of being my father's second in command."
Engrossed in the story, Sophia questioned, "So, everything was resolved between them then?"
I shook my head, a tinge of sadness creeping into my voice. "No, not really. There was a rift between them. Their relationship was no longer smooth. It became awkward. Of course, that rift grew wider when Francisco started neglecting his duties. There were periods when he'd disappear for days, causing arguments between my father and him again. We learned the truth about his constant disappearances only after my father died. Francisco had been building a force of his own and making alliances with some of our enemies. He came storming in when I was supposed to become the Don.”
Sophia listened intently, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. When I finished, her brows furrowed as she processed the information. "So, you had no choice but to surrender to his surprise attack?"
I nodded, acknowledging the grim reality of that situation. "Yes, we had no choice. But luckily, even though Francisco became the Don, he couldn't gain control of the company.
It generates a significant amount of revenue that funds the mafia. Perhaps that's why he's so desperate to expand into drug trafficking. He no longer wants to lower his head when asking me for money."
Sophia's let out a soft sigh. "It's all about power and control. Even within your own family."
I held onto my cup of coffee, inhaling the steam as my mind wandered to the past. Memories of family disputes, power struggles, and the weight of responsibility washed over me.
It was a world that demanded sacrifices, and I had made my share.
Lost in my thoughts, I sat at the breakfast table, the morning sunlight streaming through the window. It was one of those rare moments of tranquility in our turbulent lives.
My phone vibrated on the table, snapping me back to the present. I picked it up and saw a message from Leo.
As Sophia stood up to clear our empty plates, I gave her a thankful nod before turning my attention to my phone.
The message confirmed that Francisco was responsible for her parents' death. However, Leo was still delving deeper to uncover the motive behind this gruesome act.
