Page 11 of Driftwood Daffodil 3

Saul’s jaw ticked as he rolled his shoulders back. “The fact that you have the same name as that man infuriates me.”

“But I do, Saul.” I could hear his teeth grinding from here. “And no matter how far you stick your nose up my father’s ass, you’ll never be a Mancini.”

“You ungrateful little shit!” Saul stormed forward, and I clenched my fists.

I wanted to hit someone, and since that person couldn’t be my father, Saul was the next best thing. Plus, it wouldn’t be the first time we traded blows. Last week we got into it over Romeo sticking his nose in my business.

Unfortunately, my father intervened before it could get that far.

“Enough!”

One barked out word brought Saul to a stop. He still wanted to hit me, but there was no way he’d go against my father’s wishes.

“Sorry sir.” He apologised, making me roll my eyes. “But no one should talk to you like that. Even if he is yourson.”

He emphasised the word son as if it was blasphemous. Can’t say I blamed him. My father had been more of a parent to Saul than he ever had to me.

“I’m sure Giovanni didn’t mean to be disrespectful.” My father swung his gaze my way. “Isn’t that right, son?”

As much as I wanted to tell him off, I bit my tongue and swallowed my pride. “That’s right.” I meant all the disrespect. “It’s been a long day.”

That part was true.

“You’re forgiven.”

How generous of him.

“Now have a seat. I want to talk to you about theOmertà.”

Here it was, the moment I’d been waiting for, when he told me he changed his mind.

“I completed the job.” I pointed out, while walking over to sit in the chair across from him.

A deal was a deal. I held up my end.

“Well…” My father hummed. “Completed is debatable.”

I sighed.

“But you did find an impressive way to handle the situation.”

Did I hear that right? Did my father just pay me a compliment? That couldn’t be right.

My brow rose. “Impressive?”

“That’s what I said.” My father confirmed before waving at Saul to refill his glass.

I stared at my father, trying to figure out what his game was, while Saul walked over to grab a crystal decanter off a table in the left of the room.

“Iimpressedyou?” There was no way I heard that right.

“Yes son. You impressed me.”

I was officially stunned.

He held up his glass for Saul to refill and added, “It only took you eighteen years.”

There we go. That was the parent I knew.

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