Deer Caught Spying

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7

A neck-breaking fist landed on Enrique's face as soon as he lifted his face after dressing his wound.

"Ah, fuck, dad," Enrique spat blood on his palm the second his reflexes saved him from tripping to the ground. He shot his head toward his father who dashed back to his desk and was icing his knuckles that turned red with the blow's impact.

"How many times do I gotta drill into your fucking mind that get your shit together and act like a man, not a pussy!" Alessandro tossed the ice cube on the floor and stomped his fists on the desk as they supported his weight. While his eyes were gravely rooted at Enrique, he watched how pathetically he was limping over such a small wound.

"Fottimi angeli," Alex slammed his fists again and spun around in exasperation. (Fuck me, angels)

"Take yourself to some mirror and see if that's how a future consigliere should look like," The man was shivering with rage. His son was hitting the final nail in the coffin. He was losing his remaining respect in the eyes of Angelos day by day and here, the boy seemed to have no fucks about it.

Alessandro upped his left hand and showed him his fingers. Four fingers. "You see this? Remember you once asked me what happened to my pinky finger?" Enrique's wavering stare flitted from Alessandro's hand to his face. He gulped, remembering the question. It was three years ago when he was freshly moved back to Sicily after completing his training in the US.

"Maximo screwed my fucking digit, chopped it off and shoved it up in my ass for fucking up a deal 'cause of my one mistake," He pointed his finger at Enrique and rounded the table in easy steps. "One minor mistake, which was totally unintentional," He halted an inch before his face. Enrique cluelessly kept listening. "And you, here, my son. You are openly..." He hissed in his ear, and both the duo facing staring each other had contrasting emotions. The older man's eyes flaring in ingenuity whereas the younger one seemed unobservant as ever. "Blatantly disobeying the future capo as if he will play cool with it, You do understand what could it bring upon us?"

"But, dad, this is too much violence, I only got a shot and he..." Enrique just began to express from his standpoint when Alessandro shut him down.

"Too much is not a word in the mafia wordbook, Rique. What the fuck have you been taught in the US?" He was shocked by his son's school of thought. "The only word you should remember by heart is obey. Obey him or we will lose everything to Silvans," Alessandro tried to knock his sleeping sense. He didn't kill, bribe, defraud, or loot thousands of people just to lose it all to his rivals in the end. He would have destroyed the Silvans if he could, he would have started with Mariano if he had a chance but Maximo was the wall he couldn't afford to cross.

"Your whole fucking future will be at stake and I didn't come this far to dump my legacy by the hands of a junkie," Enrique shut his eyes, dropped his head and sighed wearily.

Looking back, "Dad, I'm trying, I'll change my ways," He retorted in all honesty. Nobody here ever understood how hard it was for him. For someone who never wanted this life but was forced into it somehow.

"Uh-huh? When?" Alessandro narrowed his eyes and bobbed his head in question.

"I won't repeat my mistake again," Enrique assured with a stoic face.

"Remember one thing, if it wasn't that girl as backup, you and I were fucked. And before they get wind of it. Man up and marry her until I figure out what to do next," Alessandro said and Enrique reluctantly nodded in agreement. He glanced down at Enrique's pants, seeing white powder on the fabric. "And stop seeing Linda and Rocco," Throwing a hateful stare and grabbing his jacket, he slipped through it and walked out of the meeting room.

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