The Undying Addiction of a Tyrant

Chapter 1

For years I've sat around trying to figure out what my mother meant. One day during one of her many drunken binges, she yelled how much she hated looking at me as I remind her of my father. What happened between the two of them for her to hate him so much? According to her, my father is this Notorious mob boss. I know they loved each other at one time when they were younger but now is a whole other story. All she does is cuss him out, and the man isn't even here to defend himself. He must have done something for her to still hold a grudge against him.

Where are my manners? Before I go any further into my story, let me introduce myself before my grandmother comes through here and slaps me in the back of the head for losing my manners. My name is Bryson, I'm 20 years old with long black hair which I keep in cornrows. I normally keep a goatee; I've never been one of those men who loves wearing beards. Besides, most women I know don't want their men wearing beards, especially when the man has his head buried between her thighs.

Sometimes you can catch me with either diamonds or gages in my ears. I wear anything black, hold up, let me rephrase that before you guys think I'm a cross-dresser who wears dresses for a living. The only thing you will ever catch me wearing is my black jeans and shirts by Sean John.

Curiosity got the best of me one night. While my mother was out partying with her drinking friends. I went snooping through her stuff and found a small shoebox filled with pictures of my mother and some man who I assumed was my father. Yeah, yeah, I know. I should assume nothing because I could end up making an ass out of myself. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear the man in the picture was my older brother. The resemblance between the both of us was shocking. I turned the picture over there in small writing was the name, Alessandro Esposito.

Reaching behind my back, I pulled out my cellphone and googled the name listed on the picture. Google listed his phone number with a current picture of him and an address too. Thank God for the internet and google. It looks like I'm traveling to Vince, Italy, to see my long-lost father. I wonder if he ever got the milk he left to go buy. With great trepidation, I dialed the number that I found during my online search and waited for someone to pick up the phone.

After several minutes a cracking sound came across the line and a man's rough voice said "hello."

I took in a quick deep breath and coughing "Hello, you don't know me but I'm looking for a man named Alessandro Esposito."

What's this about? Inquired the person on the other end of the phone.

"It's a personal matter that I need to discuss with him," I explained.

"Well alright, I'll get him for you, just hold on."

Did he just tell me to hold and not go anywhere, come on, where else am I going to go? Idiot, I swear some people are so senseless.

I sat there in my seat, drumming my fingers on the table while my phone was on speaker, waiting for the man to bring Alessandro to the phone. Even though I'm grown, this still terrifies me. What happens if he doesn't want to meet me? Well, here goes nothing. I could hear a person breathing as they picked up the phone asking, "who is this? What do you want with me?"

"Is this Alessandro Esposito, the same man who dated a woman by the name of Irene Hale a little over 19 years ago?"

"Yes, it is, but who's asking, do I know you?"

"No, sir, you don't know me. My name is Bryson and I have some information that will knock you for a loop once I tell you what it is."

How do I tell him he's my father, do I beat around the bush or rip the band-aid off? Heck, no pain, no gain. Scratching the back of my neck, I took a deep breath and blurted out "You're my father?

"Excuse me, did I just hear you correctly, did you say I was your father?"

"Err..." I chewed my lip and stuttered, "yes I did."

His voice shook "What kind of joke is this?"

Breathing deeply, "well it's no joke. My mother, over the years, kept running you into the ground. One night when my mom was drunk, she let it slip that my father was this big-time mob boss. When I asked who you were, she wouldn't tell me. So, the other day while she was out with her friends, I went snooping into her closet and found this old box with pictures of you and her. Which leads me to believe that you are my indeed my father."

As I finished my little speech, there was a growing silence on the other end.

"Hello, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I don't even know what to say or where to begin with this situation. It's not something we can discuss over the phone."

"I was planning on coming over on the plane to Italy, but then thought it was better to call first instead of showing up at your door and getting my head blown off by you or your men."

"Yeah, very smart on your behalf. If you would like me to, I can plan with some people I know over there who can pick you up and get you on the first plane over here."

"Ok, well let me get my bags together and we will talk some more when I get there."

All I heard was a dial tone and then nothing but silence. Rude much, he could have said bye like a normal person. I went up to my room and grabbed my suitcase, packing the clothes I would need for my journey. Hopefully Lady Lush stays away until I leave for the airport, there's not enough money in the world for me to tell her I'm going to see my dad.

I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs with it. Right as I sat it down by the door, someone knocked on my door. Walking over to the door I open slowly, "yes can I help you?"

"Are you Bryson?" answered the voice through the crack in the door.

"Yes, I am. Who wants to know?"

"Mr. Esposito sent us to get you." The man said while he picked up my bag beside the door.

Wow, that was quick, I thought, following the man out to the car. When we stepped out to the car, another tough-looking man held the door open so we could slide into the backseat.

"Sir, both Mr. Esposito and my boss have arranged everything. There is a private plane waiting to take you to Italy. I hope you have a safe and eventful journey, but we must let you go on alone there will be someone from Mr. Esposito's group waiting for you when your plane lands in Italy."

Without a word they left me to make my way over to the plane, what it with these people and not saying hi, bye, kiss my ass, or nothing. Regardless of my feelings, I made my way onto the plane and buckled up for the long flight. I drifted off to sleep, with millions of thoughts racing through my already cluttered brain. One of which is the fact I left without telling my mother and I knew she was going to murder me the second I got back to the United States. I may have to change my phone number while I'm over there I'm pretty sure my mom is going to stalk my phone every chance she gets. I must have slept the whole plane ride because the next thing I knew a gentle hand was shaking me awake.