His Entertainer

Chapter 4

       HERMANN RODRIGUEZ POV.

(Phone vibrates)

"Signore, we've dealt with the intruso."

"Which family?" I asked, lighting a cigarette, the smoke curls around my face.

"White Vultures," the voice on the other end replied instantly. The curt efficiency was almost unsettling.

I signed another contract, the ink a meaningless formality against the backdrop of my world. Then, a soft knock at the door.

"I'm busy," I said, my tone flat, a thinly veiled dismissal. The knock ceased. For a few seconds. Then, it started again, more insistent, more insistent still. My patience snapped. People needed to learn to respect boundaries. I grabbed my 9mm from the drawer.

"I'm going to kill you-" My voice was a raw snarl, the threat barely contained. I threw open the door, the sudden chill of the hallway a stark contrast to the heated rage inside me.

Standing there, framed by the doorway, was a vision of elegance and power: my grandmother, Nonna, surrounded by ten bodyguards. The only woman I'd ever truly loved. The only woman who mattered.

"Nonna," I breathed, lowering the gun, trying to hide it from her sight. I was a devil to the world, but to her, I was always her Hermann.

"Nipote," she said, her voice laced with disappointment, her gaze piercing, seeing through the carefully constructed facade I presented to the world. "I taught you better than this."

"Please, come in, Nonna... I'm sorry," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. I took her arm, guiding her inside, careful to support her steps. "I'll handle this," I whispered to her bodyguards, my eyes cold, sending them a clear message to back off. They obeyed instantly. I hated the way they treated her, the way they made me look like some monster capable of hurting her. I never would.

She settled into a chair, crossing her legs with practiced grace. "Where is my nipotina?" The question hung in the air, familiar and unwelcome.

"Not this again, Nonna," I groaned, handing her a glass of wine. This conversation was a recurring nightmare.

"We're having this conversation, Hermann," she said firmly, her eyes unwavering.

"I'm dealing with some... complications... in the Mafia. Once that's settled... i'll find one." I trailed off, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.

"Find one? Hermann, I've told you a thousand times, women aren't possessions! Every girl deserves respect." The lecture was familiar, yet it stung nonetheless.

"I know, Nonna..." I conceded, keeping my response brief.

Her eyes, filled with a mixture of sadness and concern, held mine. "I love you, Hermann, and I want the best for you. Your father, your grandfather... they've warped you. And this... this life you've chosen... it terrifies me. The Invisible Mafia, and now the Italian Mafia... the thought of you leading them keeps me awake at night. All I can pray for is your safety, because you no longer listen to your Nonna." Her voice cracked, a raw vulnerability that pierced my carefully constructed armor.

"There's nothing to worry about, Nonna. And I do listen to you," I insisted, offering a reassuring smile. She returned it, but the sadness in her eyes lingered. I knew it was a lie. I had taken over the Invisible Mafia, and the Italian Mafia was next. The sweet, innocent Hermann she knew was gone, replaced by a ruthless leader, his hands stained with blood, his mind consumed by darkness. The day would come when even her love couldn't hold me back. The day when I would break the promise I couldn't keep.