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"That sounds wonderful," he replied, a genuine smile touching his lips.
I swiftly prepared the dessert, slicing it into portions and serving it on plates. We settled back in our seats, each with a plate of tiramisu in front of us.
Emilio's face transformed with pleasure as he took the first bite, savoring the tiramisu. The expression of delight made me proud, glad that my mother's culinary talents were appreciated.
"This is amazing," he exclaimed. "Your mom's cooking is truly something else."
I smiled back, appreciating his compliment. "She's always had a knack for making desserts. Tiramisu is one of her specialties."
However, I knew we couldn't delay the difficult questions that needed answering so swiftly. I got to the point and asked him the question that had been lingering at the front of my mind.
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
My directness made him choke on the dessert.
He coughed, clearing his throat before replying, "No."
I looked at him skeptically. I had hoped for that answer, but given the environment he was involved in, it was hard to believe. Could someone keep their hands clean in such a dark world, especially as the son of the mafia's leader?
My disbelief was evident, and Emilio sighed, sensing my doubt. He assured me, "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm telling the truth. I've never killed anyone."
I pressed on, asking how that was possible.
"I've never been interested in the mafia world, despite my family ties," Emilio explained.
His response caught me by surprise and left me stunned. I never imagined he wasn't interested in the world of the mafia, especially given his family ties. The contrast between his appearance and the reality was disconcerting.
He chuckled bitterly at my bewildered expression.
"Is it that hard to believe?" he asked, the bitterness still lingering in his tone.
I cleared my throat, attempting to process his words.
"I just... I didn't expect this. With your family... it just seemed inevitable. Why don't you leave, then?" I blurted out, despite knowing that it wasn’t as simple as that.
Emilio let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "It's not that simple. Leaving the mafia is a lot more complicated than you think."
"But as the son of the leader, shouldn't it be easier for you? Won’t your father understand?" I pressed, not fully understanding the intricacies of his situation.
Emilio's laughter lost its bitterness and became almost incredulous. "You have no idea," he said. "My father is precisely the one who won’t let me go so easily.”
I could feel the tension as he spoke about his father. It hinted that their relationship was strained and complicated. Despite not being the heir to the mafia family, it seemed his father was adamant about keeping him involved.
It made me wonder why his father was pushing him into the mafia world when clearly he didn't want to be a part of it.
"That's why I built Royalty Rentals," Emilio explained, his voice carrying a mix of determination and exhaustion. "It's a legitimate business, entirely separate from the mafia, a way to claim something just for myself, apart from my family's dark heritage."
He let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his words palpable in the air.
"But leaving the mafia isn't a straightforward choice. Even if I were to walk away, peace wouldn't come. The Mancini family would keep coming after me. They see me as a means to hurt my father. I'm worn out by the relentless attacks, and before I can confront my father and break free from the family, I have to deal with the Mancinis. It's the only path to achieve any semblance of peace."
As I listened to Emilio, I felt a surge of empathy for him.
“What caused the feud between your family and the Mancini family?" The words stumbled out of my mouth.
Emilio's eyes clouded with a complex mix of emotions, memories perhaps that he was forced to revisit.
"It was a betrayal perpetrated by my family. The Mancinis have been seeking retribution ever since," he said.
