Maid To The Mafia:Totally Captivated

CHAPTER XIII

BLOOD FROM A STONE

“I heard from Bobby you were sick?”

“Food allergies.”

“Did you go to the hospital?”

“No. Heath helped out before it got worse.”

“You should be careful what you eat.”

“I know.”

“You were also in a fight with Leo?”

“No. He sent a woman my way. Thought I would get totally captivated by her. I sent her packing, though. Along with a warning to Leo.”

“Don’t mind Leo. He’s not right in the head.”

“Say that to his face when you see him, old man.”

Giuseppe Dente, the head honcho of the Dente Mafia, observed the young man sitting in front of him. He passed two documents, each sealed in a large envelope, to Giovanni.

“What’s this?” Giovanni asked, hand running along the rim of the thin envelope.

“I need you to collect his debt. He falls under your jurisdiction.”

“How many millions are we looking at?”

“A few.”

“Got it. My boys will sort him out. And the other one?” Giovanni picked up the thick envelop to examine.

“Business. I need you to negotiate with him. Set out all the terms and conditions.”

“Regarding?”

“Funding he wants from us.”

“Who’s he?” Giovanni flicked his eyes at him.

“Another mafia family.” Giovanni chuckled.

“Really? Someone wants to join forces with our family?”

Giuseppe looked at Giovanni with adoration in his eyes, seeing the leader he’d become. Giuseppe remembered the first time he saw Giovanni. Dirt rag. A tall, gangly boy out on the streets. Soot smeared all over that oval face. But Giovanni had come far, proving himself with self-determination. His education was top grade. His fighting skills were top notch. The boy had overcome every obstacle put in his way. If he had a son, Giuseppe would want him to be like Giovanni. That was why he’d given his last name to this boy. The boy his family neglected. Giuseppe didn’t know much about Giovanni’s family. Giovanni never talked much about his past. Although, he would deliriously dream about his family whenever he was sick. Screams of agony. Shouts of anguish. Cries of pain. There was also something about protecting his mother. But Giuseppe knew this was a topic Giovanni wasn’t comfortable talking about. So, he never pushed the boy.

“I’m proud of you, Giovanni,” Giuseppe said after some time. The wheelchair squeaked as he moved closer to Giovanni.

“I’m sure your father would be proud of you.”

Giovanni scoffed. “I have no father.”

A wounded look appeared on Giuseppe’s face. His wrinkles had become more prominent since he’d hit sixty. And especially due to his declining health. Because of his diabetes, his legs had been amputated. Life in a wheelchair was hard. But not as hard as having no life to live. And that was what he’d told this boy every day since the first day he’d set foot in this house, under his care.

“Your mother, then. She’d be proud of who you’ve become.”

“Would she be proud of me if she knew I belonged to another mafia family?”