The Mafia In Love

part 18

D A N T E   B R A M B I L L A' S   P O V

''Sì, mi hai chiamato papà''

(Yes, you called me papa).

I said tiredly, taking a seat on the couch behind me.

I watched him pour the expensive Tequila bottle in his glass before taking a sip of it. 

''Mhm, l'ho fatto. Come stai, figlio?''

(Mhm, I did. How are you, son?).

 "Sto bene. Solo un po' curioso del perché sono qui. Di solito, faresti solo una telefonata."

(I'm fine. Just a bit curious why I'm here. Normally, you would just make a phone call).

I watched as he dropped his glass cup on the table carefully before turning to me.

 "Lo so, ma è troppo importante per discuterne al telefono."

(I know but this is way too important to discuss on the phone). 

He spoke out and my brows furrowed. Did I do something wrong?

Last time I checked; I went through all that was meant to be shipped back to Italy.

"Se ti stai chiedendo del meeting con i russi, allora è già risolto."

(If you're wondering about the meeting with the Russians then I already have that settled).

I uttered out. Maybe that's what he meant. He scoffed out a laugh before replying to me. 

"No, non è quello, ma è collegato ad esso.''

(No, it's not that but it's related to it). 

His expression hardened as he became serious, and I felt my heart tug a bit.

Most times, when he's this serious, it's never because of something good.

"Allora, qual è il problema, papà?"

(Then what's the matter, papa?).

 I asked again, getting impatient. If there's one thing I hate then its slow talkers.

Unfortunately, I couldn't tell my father that because that would probably get me killed.

I still had a Mafia to run so for my safety, I'll keep my thoughts within.

''I had a chat with Domenico last night, a very interesting one''.

What was he on about? I thought we already handled everything.

''Is there a problem? They told me everything was fine''.

''Apparently there's a little problem''. He said before standing up.

I watched him take slow struts to the big window. You could see the whole front yard from up there and it had been my father's favorite thing to do.

 Probably because my mum was always there, reading a book or watering the flowers.

I watched him as a little smile formed on his face while he stared outside.

As cute as this is, there isn't time for this right now.

''What's the problem, papa. I thought everything was finalized in the meeting room''. I asked in clear confusion.

I rubbed my head in annoyance. 

These Russians were never organized people for shit, that's why I hated working with them.

It's always so hard for us to get along with each other. Why didn't they just say it then?