Page 39 of Veil of Vengeance

“I’m not. Not in an intentional or malicious way, at least. They’re very kind and have been strangely warm toward me,” I tell him as I spritz the soil.

“To answer your other question, my Pop died in Ohio because he had gone down there to cut off the Outfit’s deals with the Russians there. It seems like your little cousin had wanted to become a hero in the eyes of other Made men and decided to attack our territory.”

Emiliano seems to be apathetic towards his dad’s death.

“Were you guys close? You and your dad?”

His fists clench as he shakes his head.

“When I was younger, maybe. But once I became a Made man, he…changed.” He grabs the pot and feels the soil. “What about you? Are you close to your Pops?”

I slightly cringe at his question, and my body goes still. He notices the change in my mood and turns his face to look at me.

“No. No, my dad and I have never been close… It’s complicated, my family is complicated.” I sigh as I try to avoid talking about my dad's abusive nature. Emiliano looks like he wants to probe some more, but instead, he simply nods.

“Why do you like to garden?” His veiny hands flex as he tends to the soil, and it strangely looks sexual. Jesus, I need help.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re practically surrounded by death and destruction. Bringing life to something, even something as small as a plant, makes me less inclined to believe that there is only evil in this world. It also relaxes me. I don’t have to think while I do this.” Emiliano doesn’t give me much time to process what he just said because he moves on to the next question.

“What’s your favorite color?” I give him a look. It’s my turn to ask the question, but I let him have this one. He’s trying to change the topic, which I’m grateful for. I ponder for a couple of seconds.

“It doesn't take that long to know what your favorite color is.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“Don’t think too hard, you might pop a vein,” he teases, and I wrinkle my nose. He’s awfully impatient for someone who should be making important decisions.

“Red. Yours?” I counter.

“Mine? I don’t know if you’ve noticed a theme, but green. Green is my favorite color. Favorite movie?”

I don’t have to think about that one.

“Pride and Prejudice. Yours?”

“Really,Pride and Prejudice?”

“Yes, really, what’s wrong withPride and Prejudice?” I ask. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Nothing, but that seems a bit generic.”

“I’m not trying to be different, asshole. In fact, I prefer blending right in.”

“You can never blend in.”

My cheeks heat at the tone of his voice. If he had said it any differently, I would’ve thought he was insulting me.

I swallow down any nervousness and ask him, “What’s your favorite movie?”

“I’m warning you, it’s generic as well.”

I roll my eyes. Of course it is.

“What is it?”

“Men in Black.”

“Have you read the comics?” I ask him as he grabs the pot and takes it near the violets. He bends on his knees and digs in the empty spot in the soil near the violets.

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