Dinner with the Mafia ✔

Chapter 16

Enola was a remarkable person and a powerful female. We hit it off once Andrea was asleep again, and I spent the night at her house with Dario. He was grumpier than usual, and I did not know why and did not even bother asking him.

A week had passed since my encounter with Enola, and it was finally the time to set up the first business meeting with Basilio, Dario's grandpa, Lazlo, his right arm, and Mattia, who handled most of the business contracts. I had no idea what type of business Dario had, but I guessed something related to guns. Since he despised how these dangerous substances ruin lives, drugs were out of the question. I was right when I said he had common sense; hopefully, he does not disappoint.

"We will finalize the contract's clauses and make adjustments if necessary, alright?" Dario remarked as we sat in his car. I was mad at him because he did not let me call dad this morning, saying that the call would hold us down and we would end up late for the meeting.

"Fine." My reply was dry, and I knew he noticed.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Dario glanced at me for a second, then back at the road. "Are you still angry about the call?"

"No."

"Good," he replied.

"Good? You know, that is precisely your problem. You don't read between the lines!" I reasoned, and he sighed. I knew I was overreacting, and one of the two reasons for my mood swings was my damn period. The other was Dario's nonchalance.

"You can call him now! I didn't say you can't talk to him in the car, Jolene," he suggested, and I scoffed.

"I don't want you to listen to our conversation, so no."

"Fine. That's your fucking problem, then." It was his turn to act grumpy, like he was the one suffering from menstrual cramps. If there were a contest for who argues the most in a day, we would ace it. His way of thinking was the opposite of mine, and I found adjusting to Italy, in general, difficult. I wanted to complain to dad about Dario's behavior because I was his little girl and could act spoilt in front of him; hence, I did not want to call dad in the car. Dario would either make fun of me or contrast everything I would say about him. I was betting on the latter.

After a minute of counting in my head, I calmed down. "What type of businesses do you own?" I asked, breaking the tension that roamed in the vehicle.

"Casinos, industrial Real Estates, and weapons." He stopped at a red light and looked at me. He was too serious for my taste. "Even though gambling is legal in Italy, and we own a gambling license, our customers gamble within reason in my casinos, and I do not allow fraud. Also, I own many lands, so I decided to invest in real Estate and build facilities and factories which help people from the lower-class find jobs -not related to the mafia- and work with me. Finally, we manufacture firearms, pistols, and more weapons and sell them worldwide. I do not trade my items to terrorists, only to a selective few authorized military organizations," he explained like he had clarified this to someone before. I did not expect this answer since I assumed the worst, like human trafficking or rape.

As I revised what he said in my head, something clicked. "You don't need our branch to secure a legal income for your off-springs, as you explained to dad. You lied." I reminded him and crossed my arms. I knew he had a different reason for summoning me, and my curiosity was killing me, but my ego held me back.

The light turned green, and he finally stopped looking at me. "It's a bit complicated. Gambling in Italy is illegal, as I said. I got away with some of the things I did, not that bad, because I listened to my cop friends' requests, so I did not lie. Yet, I do have another reason for wanting to team up with you. I will tell you when the time is right."