Perfectly broken

Chapter 5:

Dante's pov:

Late in the night, I am as usual in my office, sitting at my desk reviewing some papers while having a scotch.

After that meeting with Anastasia, I need the burn of alcohol to erase every reminder of her from my memory from the way she walked so confidently to the way she talked to me. It was really hard not to admire a woman like her.

I hear a knock on the door. Without asking who it is, I let the knocker in. Because I know that it is her. Greta my house keeper.

Sometimes, I keep waiting for her to show up at my door. I just need someone to distract me from me all the burden I carry over my shoulder as a capo even for ten minutes every day.

Over the years, she made it a habit to check on me in the office each night before going to sleep.

"Dante are you still working at this hour of the night? Per l'amor di Dio, my son how many times should I tell you that you need to rest?" (For the love of god, Italian)

Greta is like my second mother. She is the one who helped raising me. She was there for my birthdays, for my initiation, for my first fight, for my first kill. And all the other important events in my life.

She truly cares about me like I am her own child. She is the only one who knows the real me, the one I hide underneath it all and keep away from everyone else.

"I know segnorita but work can't wait." I say not separating my eyes from the papers that lay in front of me.

She sits on one of the chairs facing my desk. She goes silent for a few seconds. Knowing her so well, she has something in mind to say but she knows I won't appreciate.

I put the pen in my hand down and I look at her encouraging her to say whatever she wants.

She exhales deeply before saying:" You know what really can't wait. Marriage. Don't you think that it is time to bring a beautiful bride to this home?"

Here we go again with this marriage matter.

If there is one thing I know about Greta is that she can't wait to hold my children. She has been waiting for me to marry someone for several years now.

"Segnorita, we talked about this. I made it clear that I don't want a wife, at least not now."

She points her index towards me and she says:" Listen to me young man. You are thirty-two now. How long will you stay alone in this big mansion? You need a wife and children that will bring joy to your life."

"But ..." I try to defend myself. But, she cuts me before I can finish my sentence. "No buts, let me finish what I have to say. Apparently, I need to knock some sense into you."

Greta is the only one who has the right to talk to me like this apart from my sister. And, I don't have a problem with it.

"Dante, suo, a capo needs an heir. People will talk behind your back, if they haven't already started. You need a son who will carry your legacy, an heir who will follow your steps and make sure that the Cosa Nostra family line will never die." (Son, Italian)

Fuck. I can't deny that her words make sense no matter how I hate it. I have never in my life considered marriage as an option for me. The mere thought of being tied up to another person gets on my nerves. A wife is so demanding. She will want my attention, my time things and my time, things that I won't be able to offer to her. Fuck. I can't bear someone in my house invading my personal space, let alone sharing a bed with me.

"I am tired by now. I am an old lady as you know. I need to get some rest. I hope that you will think about I said."

She gets up and heads to the door. "Don't be awake till late. Buenas noches."