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Enzo swiftly picked up the call, and as the seconds ticked by, his eyes lifted to mine once more, conveying the message that it was, indeed, Lucas on the line.
"Lucas couldn't get through to you," Enzo relayed.
The memory of switching off my phone amidst the barrage of congratulatory calls and messages from fellow mafia leaders came back to me.
"I had my phone off," I explained.
Enzo swiftly relayed my message to Lucas, emphasizing my presence in the room. With a deft motion, he activated the speakerphone, allowing Lucas's voice to fill the space. His words were measured, laden with a hint of unease, which made me sit up.
"Boss, I found Griselda's father," he began, the weight of his discovery palpable in the charged atmosphere. "Check the data on your phone, Enzo."
There was a crackle of anticipation in the air.
"Thank you, Lucas. You did a great job," I commended brusquely.
Enzo hung up, his fingers swiftly navigating through the information that Lucas had sent him. I watched intently, my anticipation mingling with a growing sense of unease as Enzo's expression underwent a marked change. Surprise gave way to shock, which then morphed into an unreadable expression.
As my sense of foreboding escalated, I couldn't contain my growing apprehension.
"Spit it out, Enzo," I urged.
Enzo's face contorted with a mix of emotions that I couldn't quite place, his expression reflecting the weight of the discovery he had just made.
"Her father," he began slowly, his voice laden with an undeniable sense of gravity, "He's part of the mafia. He's Don of the Esposito family.”
Chapter 35
Griselda
Istoodonthethreshold of my childhood home, face to face with my mother, after Emilio had dropped me off. As she opened the door, her eyes met mine, a small, sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. I couldn't bring myself to smile. Unanswered questions and unresolved emotions weighed down my mind.
Noticing my solemn demeanor, my mother opened the door wider, motioning for me to step inside. The interior of the house enveloped me with a sense of familiarity as I walked through the hall. It had been a while since I had been here, and a lot had happened in the meantime.
I picked up a gentle scent of freshly brewed coffee. The soft, warm hues of the furnishings exuded an air of comfort that did nothing to soothe my nerves.
It was odd to notice how uneasy I felt in my mom’s house.
We made our way into the living room, and I saw two steaming cups of coffee sitting atop the small coffee table. I settled into the couch, clutching a cup in my hands.
Turning to face my mother, I mustered the strength to voice the one demand that had weighed heavily on my mind since the moment I had decided to confront her.
"I'm here," I began, my voice steady despite the turmoil that churned within. "So, explain everything."
My mother’s gaze reflected my nervousness and apprehension.
"I didn't tell you because I wanted you to be safe," she admitted, her voice tinged with remorse. "I never thought he would find us. I wanted you to live your life without the burden of knowing what he did."
I gripped the cup tighter. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions," I asserted. "I want to know the truth."
My mother's eyes held mine, pleading with mine for understanding.
"Your father is Riccardo Esposito," she began, her voice low and laden with meaning as if I should recognize the name. "He's Don of the Esposito family."
My mind reeled. He was part of the mafia?!
She continued, her voice tinged with sorrow as she recounted the family's tumultuous history.
"Riccardo was once Riccardo Mancini and was set to inherit the Mancini family," she explained, her gaze momentarily distant as she delved into the past. "But everything changed when his trusted friend, Mathias Fiore, betrayed the family."
