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"I'm sorry for your loss," I offered, feeling compelled to express my condolences.
He waved it off, offering a reassuring smile. "It's alright. I've moved past it. In this world, you learn that actions have consequences. My father knew the risks of what he did."
My mind grappled with the image of a young Enzo facing such loss and tragedy at an early age. "Who took care of you after that?" I asked gently, wanting to know more.
"Normally, kids like me would be sent to the facilities where they groom future members of the mafia," Enzo explained. "But fate had different plans." His words held a mix of memories and gratitude.
I poured us each a glass of water from a jug from the fridge. Carrying both glasses over to the lounge area, I waited for Enzo to settle on a couch before handing him his glass.
I was still intrigued by our conversation, and so I pressed further. "What did you mean by fate having different plans?"
I settled in a modern recliner and put up my feet. They had started to feel a little swollen lately. Enzo didn’t seem to notice, and he began painting a picture of his past, the strokes revealing a young boy navigating a world far from ordinary.
"I met Emilio when we were children before everything got complicated. When Emilio's father, the Don of the Fiore family, saw us together," Enzo narrated. "He saw something in me, I guess. He decided to entrust me into the care of a trusted confidante, ensuring I grew up alongside Emilio."
Enzo spoke fondly of their childhood antics, the mischievous adventures that strengthened their bond. It made me smile. They were more than friends; they were brothers in all but blood.
"Emilio's always been the kind of guy to put others before himself," Enzo mused, a sense of pride evident in his voice. "Even when we were kids, he had this innate sense of responsibility."
"And that hasn't changed," I observed, thinking of Emilio's determination to free himself from the clutches of the mafia.
Enzo nodded, taking a big sip of water. "Exactly. He's been through a lot, but he's got this unwavering spirit to carve out a better life for himself and the people he cares about."
I glanced at him, curiosity piqued. "But what about you? You’re part of this world too, yet you're fine with him leaving, and even you, leaving as well. Why?"
He raised an eyebrow as if wondering why I even asked. "Well, why wouldn't I want to leave? The mafia isn't exactly a desirable place."
I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him. "Of course, it's a horrible place, but I'm asking about the reason. You still stayed for all these years, but now you’re leaving."
He took a moment to think, then shrugged. "The mafia is a world of crime and violence. If my father hadn't been a part of it, he'd probably still be alive, as would my mother. Staying in that life leads to destruction. Emilio knows that; he's seen the consequences firsthand. He wants out, for himself and for those he cares about."
He then continued, his gaze thoughtful. "The only reason I stuck around was because of Emilio, but now that he's making this choice to leave, I don't have a reason to stay, and neither does Andrea. The mafia is dangerous, full of risks, and I'm just not interested anymore in risking my life or getting involved in illegal activities."
I was taken aback by the revelation about Andrea's connection to the mafia world. The words "doctor" and "mafia" seemed like a strange pairing.
I couldn't help but ask, my voice tinged with surprise, "So, is Andrea a part of the Fiore family, too?"
Enzo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, not at all. Andrea, despite being in the same circle, doesn't want to get involved with the mafia. He's got a strong stance against it."
I felt more confused than before.
"But then, what about you and Emilio?" I queried, perplexed.
Enzo leaned back, a hint of a grin playing on his lips. "Griselda, you seem to have forgotten that Emilio's security team, including me, are not a part of the mafia. We operate independently, handling his protection and legal affairs."
The pieces were coming together.
"I see," I replied, taking in this new information.
As Enzo unraveled the story of their shared past, my curiosity was piqued. I was eager to know more about how Emilio, Andrea, and he had connected over the years.
He began, "The story of how we all met is quite something. Back when we were just young teens, Emilio's dad hired Andrea's father, a skilled doctor, to look after some of the men. Andrea often tagged along with his father during these visits. He's about our age, you know."
"Got it," I said, connecting the dots. Despite having limited interactions with Andrea, there was a clear sense of camaraderie among the trio.
As if on cue, my phone chimed, jolting me from the absorbing conversation. My eyes widened as I glanced at the screen—it was my mom calling. Panic flickered through me, a mix of surprise and worry.
Enzo, perceptive as always, asked, "Everything okay?"
