Ivy has been groomed to be the first female Don of the Greyson mafia since she was little. Her whole life revolves around preparing herself for the role. From all the combat training she had endured, to pursuing business in college. It was all in an...
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Luke
I arrived in Italy just before noon. A car was waiting to bring me to Don DeLuca's mansion. We had made plans to have lunch together and I was supposed to stay a few nights with him.
Italy was bright as usual. Blue skies, cool breeze blowing from the coast. I watch the scenery without much interest, lost in my thoughts. Partly wondering about Ivy, partly thinking of the coming meeting.
Before long, we arrive at the Spanish inspired home of Don Antonio DeLuca. I took a quick look around and found the place hasn't changed much since I was here last. The mansion sits atop a cliff and boasts a magnificent garden. Apparently, the Donna is very much into gardening and spent most of her time perfecting her creations. A set of stairs built on the side gave access to their private beach which I'm sure their young son visits often.
I haven't seen young Matteo since his second birthday. He used to love it when I carried him on my shoulder. I wondered if he still remembers me since it was such a long time ago.
Antonio greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the car. He is in his mid thirties and looks to be in the prime of his life. Tall, dark brown hair and a smile that never left his face, making him look more like your friendly neighbor instead of a mafia boss. This is an oddity about him considering he can be quite a monster when the occasion requires it.
"It's been a long time, my friend. You don't look too good." His brow furrowed a little bit, taking note of my dark baggy eyes.
"It's just work." I smile weakly, not wanting to prolong the subject. "How's the wife?"
"Angela is well. She went to town with Matteo, so you will see them at dinner. Come." He ushered me inside and led me to the patio overlooking the big blue sea. A table had already been set for two and Antonio gestured to me to take a seat.
A maid came and served our lunch.
"Do you still like puttanesca?" he asked me and pointed to the pasta dish.
"You remembered." a grin slowly formed on my lips as I felt at home in his company.
"Of course, I also still remember the first time you had this dish. It was hilarious." He said as a wide mischievous smile adorn his face.
I instantly recall that day. Putta actually translates as prostitute in Italian. And I had thought the dish was a code word if I'd like to have a girl together with my meal. It was an honest mistake considering we were in a gentleman's club. Obviously, the dish arrived with no female companion, but I did love it all the same.
"So, how long are you planning to stay?" Antonio asked as he poured some wine for both of us. My hand immediately covered my glass, indicating that I didn't want any.
"Just water for me, please. I just took some meds. Not supposed to drink afterward." I said, trying to make an excuse for not wanting to drink the wine. Antonio signaled to a waiting maid and a glass of water replaced my empty wine glass.
