Page 84 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
“Don’t be a smart-ass. Things change fast in our business.”
“Nothing’s changed. I’m still at the office. Alessio collected payment from the Harley Brothers, and I’m waiting for confirmation on the gun delivery from LA. Paolo’s handling that.”
“You should go home. Paige won’t be happy putting the twins to bed alone.”
There’s a pause, and for a moment I think the call dropped. When Dario speaks again, his voice carries a note of concern.
“Dad, are you okay?”
“Of course.”
Another pause. “You sound weird.”
I sigh and lean forward, shoulders slumping. “I feel weird.”
I’m not the type to share feelings, and even admitting this much is a leap for me. But if I can’t be honest with my heir, who can I trust?
“You can talk to me,” Dario says, his hesitation highlighting how foreign this territory is for both of us.
I chuckle despite myself. “Go home, son. Enjoy your time with those boys. They grow up faster than you think.”
“Feeling nostalgic?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m thinking about the past because the present is so fucked up.”
“She’ll forgive you if you show her you’re sorry.”
I let out a breath. “Mia’s not that easy.”
“The best ones never are.”
I grin. “Strange getting relationship advice from the kid who swore he’d never marry a girl because they all had cooties.”
Dario laughs. “Give me a break. I was six, and Alessio told me cooties were serious, like rabies or something.”
I shake my head, remembering how he spread this wisdom to Luca, both of them freaking out about catching some horrifying disease from the girls at school. One of those parenting moments that exasperated and amused me in equal measure.
A wave of longing hits me as I find myself thinking about Mia giving me more children. It’s something I never considered after raising my boys alone. Managing them while running the familywas tough enough, and once they reached adulthood, I figured I was done.
But seeing Mia carrying my child, knowing she’d glow with happiness...my chest aches with want. I can already imagine a little girl who takes after her mother running through my house. Or another boy I could teach about being a man.
“Dad?”
I realize I’ve lost track of the conversation and refocus. I called about business, but suddenly that feels unimportant.
“How are you doing, D? Really.”
I’m sure he’s wondering what’s gotten into me. We don’t do emotional conversations.
“Better than I probably deserve. I’ve got Paige and the twins at home, my position in the organization. I’m a fucking Andretti. What’s there to be unhappy about?”
I think about my conversation with Mia at the diner after we rode ATVs. The horror in her eyes when she learned I started training for this life at eight years old. I didn’t give her details because I knew it would upset her, but the first time my father took me on business, I watched two enforcers beat a man nearly to death. A dealer who’d been skimming off the top.
I had nightmares for weeks, and they only got worse as I was dragged along more often. It was years before I was forced to hurt anyone myself, but my father made me watch as he dealt out “justice,” sometimes killing men in front of me.
When Dario was born, I swore I wouldn’t do that to him. He was next in line, so he had to learn about the darker side of runningthe family, but I’m not my old man. I’m not a merciless bastard who steals his son’s childhood for the sake of “preparing” him.
I didn’t start training Dario until he was eighteen and out of high school. He’d seen some things by then—it’s unavoidable in this life—but I wasn’t the one who destroyed his innocence.
