Mafia Legacy (Book #1 - Mafia Series)

Part 1

"And then you know Mom..." she began, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Gabriella's glance was focused on the white lilies she was rearranging—her grandpa's favorites. As her fingertips glided across the green stems, she heard a shuffling noise, stopping her in her tracks, freezing her in time. Her mouth dropped downwards as she gazed upon her grandfather's figure, his focus elsewhere as he stared through the nearby glass window.

It did not take her long to spot the blue plastic cup on the floor, rolling around by his feet, clinging on the wooden floor. Water was gradually covering the floorboards and her eyes widened as she threw herself to her knees. She reached out for the navy rag on her grandfather's comforter and scattered it across the floor in an attempt to limit the damages.

"Are you okay grandpa? Did you get any on you?" she asked while rising to a standing position.

As expected she received no answer from him.

It was more difficult each day to see him like this. Her grandfather had been a force of nature, an explosive personality ... and now. Well, now he was mostly confused.

Initially, they had wanted him to keep his autonomy as long as possible. To do that, they had moved him out of his crummy little apartment on the side of town and into the family home. It was her, her mother, and her little brother. At first, they made it work, but they quickly realized he needed more care than they could give him.

A private nurse was out of the question: when her father died, he had left them with a lot of debts, debts her mother was still paying. In the end, they were forced to move him into a home. Her mother, despite being his daughter-in-law and not his daughter came over most mornings.

Gabriella on the other hand was tied down by her university course load and only managed to make it once or twice a week. Regardless of the little time they had together, she always tried to make the most of it. She'd been four years old when her father died - her grandfather was all she had left of him.

Most of the time, he would eventually talk to her but not a lot of it made sense. Yet, she took comfort in the fact that she was still able to see him and talk to him.

"I'll get you more," she said as she held the now empty cup in her hand.

"Did you do it, Isabella?"

Gabriella stopped in her tracks, a soft smile adorning her face. Isabella. Her grandmother. He often mistook the two of them; apparently, they looked alike. "Did I do what?"

She rarely had it in her to correct him anymore. He always seemed so happy to be talking to his wife that she did not want to break his heart. What was the point? He would not remember this and for a brief moment, it made him happy. There was no harm.

"Did you get that loose lips bastard?"

Loose lips bastard? It was probably a movie he watched. He confused reality with fantasy a lot. "I did." Why upset him over nothing?

"Good. Put the knife back in the attic. We need it."

Wait. What? This time, she had to stop in her tracks. The knife? Usually, once she answered him the conversation would stop or stir in another direction—he was no longer the chatty person he used to be.

"That's where I keep them, you know that," he answered, never once making eye contact with her.

She highly doubted his little apartment had an attic. Maybe the house he owned back when his grandmother was still alive? All she knew about it was that it burned down. Nothing was salvaged - memories lost forever. She was being silly. It was just the rambling of an old man and she needed to stop paying any attention to it.