Together again ✔

31I Mafia

Gabby's POV

It had been about a week, but I was finally allowed home, much to my relief. Being the skeptical, overprotective man my dad was, he made sure we ran many checks before I was let out, but I seemed to be doing well.

It was also safe to say that my relationship with all my family had improved greatly. Sure, we'd always been close, but by finding out my past we seemed able to bond even further.

All of this was why, on my first evening back home, as we were sat around the dinner table, I was thoroughly confused by the tense atmosphere that greeted our meal.

However, I decided against saying anything, instead continuing to shovel the spaghetti in my mouth, slightly disturbed by the silence, only broken by cutlery clashing against plates.

"Gabby," my dad spoke up after a minute of no talking, causing me to glance up at where he was sat across the table. "We need to tell you something."

Hurriedly swallowing the food that was creating a good chipmunk look, I nodded, my gaze now locked with my dad's. "Sure."

"Bambina, you might be slightly shocked by this, I'll warn you now. This is a big deal."

Those words left me half curious, half fearful. Knowing my family, a big deal was never a good thing, and considering the sombre atmosphere that accompanied this remark, I prepared myself for the worst.

But honestly, like a normal human being, I was already conjuring images up in my mind of what could be going on.

Someone was getting married? Nope nobody would want to have gotten married to any of them.

We were getting a dog? Considering how I saw a video of Kyle when he was seven pulling apart a stuffed dog teddy, I highly doubted it.

I was to be assigned a therapist? That was actually a large possibility. I just had to hope it wasn't true.

Something about David? Hold up, gotta zayn.

Pushing these thoughts to the back of my mind, I waited patiently for further development of my dad's statement, deciding not to eat anymore in fear of embarrassing myself if I needed to talk.

"I may as well just say it," my dad sighed, more to himself. "We're in the mafia."

It took a second for me to register what had been said, as I found myself disbelieving, struggling to grasp at the word that had rolled off his tongue.

Mafia.

Was this some sick joke?

Some prank that they found fun?

But I knew it was true. I didn't even have to dwell on it to know he was being honest.

My family were in the mafia.

My mind seemed to run at a hundred miles per hour, connecting up every piece of information I knew about what the mafia was.

Murder.

Lies.

Illegal.

Trafficking.

Torture.

And my family were involved in it.

They were like David, pulling me into their comforting embrace, gaining my trust, only to end up being my downfall, my pain.

They- these people I had trusted with my whole heart- were monsters. They tortured, they killed, they fed on their innocent prey.

Like the clasp of pure deciept had grabbed me, I was yanked back from the scene of betrayal, my own mind twisting and turning with each piece of information I recalled.