Mafia Queen

Chapter Fifty Three

Luca (11 years ago)

I hadn't seen my father in two months when I got the call from my mother. Dad was bad, and it wouldn't be much longer. It had been a long and painful six months since his diagnosis, so I knew it was coming, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks. That was how I ended up on a redeye flight from Italy, sitting in front of an emergency room door, running on about five hours of sleep in the last forty-eight.

He was prideful, and in his last two months of life, had shipped me off to Italy to train under Antonio so I could take over for him. I didn't even know how bad it was until my mom called, and I felt like a complete fool and a sorry excuse for a son. I should have been here, I should have been by his side, helping my mother and keeping him company and doing things for him when he couldn't. I was furious that he hadn't been honest with me about what was going on. Clearly, it was much worse than he let on. If I would've known, I would've been here in a heartbeat. He'd always been selfish, and now, even in his death, that would continue.

We'd been at odds most of my life, but he was still my father. I was hanging onto some thread of hope that we would be able to mend things between us before he died. It was stupid, really. If he lived for the next ten years, there might not even be enough time to sift through all the pain and anger I felt. Now we were lucky to even have ten more days with him, and I was feeling more conflicted than I ever had. I had to try, though. I couldn't go on with the rest of my life harboring all of this anger towards him. I needed to find some way to forgive him.

"Hi Mama." I smiled, approaching her in the waiting room. A huge relief washed over her the second she saw me.

"Hi baby." Her voice broke with emotion, and again I felt like a complete fool. At the very least, I should've been here for her. She didn't deserve to be dealing with all of this. That should've been my job.

"Your father is in with the nurses now, and they're giving him some more morphine." She wiped a tear off of her cheek and led me over to two chairs sitting in front of the door.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to make sense of it all.

She sighed. "It's been coming for a while, Luca. His medicine isn't helping at all and you know how he is. He doesn't want to try anything else."

"Why didn't he tell me?" The more I thought about it, the more furious I became.

"Oh sweetie," she put her hand to my cheek. "It's been hard for him to accept, and I don't think he wanted you to see him this way. He didn't want anyone to see him this way."

I let out a sharp laugh. Of course he didn't. He wanted his strong, hard image to be what we remembered, and in the process, he was taking away my only chance at fixing my relationship with him. Apparently, it didn't matter as much to him as it did to me. Never had.

"Why don't you go in and see him?" My mom said softly. She was doing the best she could, always playing the go-between us. I couldn't count how many times she talked one of us down after a fight or something had happened between us.

I nodded, standing up and trying to psych myself up for this. For what could potentially be one of the last times I saw my father.

The nurse passed me on her way out. "Oh, I'm sorry. Only family is allowed after hours." She gave me a tight-lipped smile.

"He's my father." I said flatly.

"Oh!" Surprise spread over her face, and it quickly turned to embarrassment.. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize he had a son. Go on in."