My Mother's Boyfriend

A DangerousMan Indeed

Alejandro

“They are here," Gabby calls out from the garden when she spots a fleet of cars heading towards our manor, shading her eyes as she follows along with her eyes. Then she takes out her phone from her dress pocket. “Mama, come down.”

Sneering, I call her to accompany me as I stand at the back entrance. She watched the watering can that she placed on the neatly cut grass, then back out to the road as the cars nearer.

I am irritated. My sister plans on watering the silly plants that have already been watered just to put on a show for the old man. Gregory. I admit, we guys do like it when a girl is all feminine, especially the darker our world gets. If the old man and her indeed have something, he will eat it up.

It makes my brain cringe.

Still, I have not told mama or anyone else, holding in disgust of that sickening situation to myself. My stomach turns sour thinking back on that night now. But now was not the time for her shenanigans.

Today was the quarterly luncheon. One day, we, the mafia, meet up with our counterparts to discuss issues. Deaths, threats, people we hire, people who blindsided us, enemies we might have in common, whom we need to put aside our grudges for, negotiations, territories, and so forth.

A day of peaceful discussions among our dark leaders. No guns and no perico. (translates as parakeet, but on the streets, it’s known as cocaine). See, we still could not trust each other fully, which is why we armed ourselves with our men outside while the discussions were private.

Next week is the international meeting. And the chosen restaurant is always public, and nobody is allowed inside except the heads of the families, in our case, Angelo, because he is the eldest and his chosen man.

But today, it’s in our dining room. Angelo took Uncle Aemon inside, but normally I would go with him, but Maya occupied my morning.

And he chose Gregory to be present as well.

“Gabriella!” I raised my tone because my sister was still gaping at the vehicles. “Upstairs immediately!” See, Gabby chose the garden for her little mad flirting because this is where we have set up to discuss what was said today.

“Why?” She fixed me with a scorned look. “The plants need watering.”

Of all the- “At three in the afternoon?” Clasping my hands in front of me, my legs planted firmly and slightly parted, I grit my teeth, growing angrier with each passing second.

One of her eyebrows goes up when she turns to me. “Yeah, and?”

“And Uncle Gregory will be banned from future visits if you go on in this-” my mouth twists unkindly, “-revolting madness.”

My sister gawks at me. Her facial expression is that of someone in a complete stupor. The ‘how did you know’- expression.

“The night you were trying to convince me that my wife was flirting with him,” I reveal to her. “In your drunken jealous madness, Gabby.”

Gabriella looks away, deep in thought, then back at me in a matter of seconds when she remembered the night in question, her cheeks a bright red. “No-”

“What is going on between you two? Angelo and I will-”

“No! Nothing, I swear.” She is too quick to deny the allegation, and it sets off more alarms inside my head. More disgust is more like it.

“Wait till mama finds out, this will kill her, and that’s the only reason why I haven't said anything about it, yet,” I terrorise her with, and her eyes grow wider than they already were.

Our mother comes into view then, and she greets us, fanning herself with a handmade fan, taking a seat, and pinning us each with a stare. One that translates as ‘what silliness is going on now’. She is in a similar dress as her daughter, but hers is red floral while Gabby’s is plain white and shorter. Much shorter and up to the latest fashion sense.

“Gabby was just heading up to see if Maya wanted help with her notes,” I said for our mother and for Gabby to understand that we were not finished discussing this but also that I would not tell our mother.

As if Gabby could aid Maya in her notes. My sister barely survived high school. But she could load a gun faster than any of us and shoot better. I’m not saying she is not smart, but it seemed that she just had a love for this life from toddler.

Gabby would have made a great leader had she not been born female. Females tend to be too warm-hearted in times of gut instincts. In times of k!ll or be k!lled- she would be k!lled. Or perhaps she could be that unfeeling as she gives promise to be. Who knows with females?

In our world, empathy and compassion are for the weak. And that’s her downfall.

“Yeah, the guava, I remember," Gabby sasses me, kissing our mother’s cheek and exiting, her heeled boots heavy on the concrete slabs as she stomps out and into the manor.

Releasing a frustrated breath, I went over to Mama and also kissed her cheek as more cars pulled up. I’m not in the mood to greet anyone today, and Mama would have to do so. Thomas and Paolo will be by her side as well.

About forty-five minutes later, I’m in the back garden, sipping on my whisky neat when Peter and Marcus walk outside first, with serious expressions. But this is normal, we always have a serious look. I take a seat opposite to mama, and they also follow suit, grabbing sandwiches from the tray on the table.

Peter is still mad at me. And the gala was four nights ago. Earlier, he’d texted me to say that Aldo was present at today’s meeting- the pre-meeting before the actual sit-down meeting next week. Angelo had not discussed this with me. Last year, I somehow managed to convince my brother to invite Aldo, but he declined, and this quarter year, he showed up?

I had not noticed him earlier while I watched the men coming in. Hmm. Something like this should have been told to me by my brother. Anyway, it doesn't matter. He is the head of our household, so I’ll allow it.

Why did Aldo accept the invitation? Was it because of Peter? Or had he just decided to play along to see what we were up to? I told Peter to be nice to him for a reason. Aldo was a growing empire and a fast one, too. This is why I encouraged Angelo last quarter to invite him to the meeting, but he declined, saying he was busy. Angelo nearly rang my ear about that because he had to persuade the other Dons to accept that invitation as well.

His absence came as a ridicule of the mafias. And it was not taken lightly.

Aldo is someone we could use as an ally in the future, which is why I pushed for the invite. There was something about him that felt dangerous. Normally, a rapidly growing mafia would be cause for concern, but Aldo was slow to spread. Not slow as in failing, but slow as in he was in no rush to make enemies. In this business, you make foes faster than a raging fire.

Instead, he focused on people-pleasing. Why did he care so much about how or what people thought of him? Is he attempting to control the public? Why the need to seem virtuous? His need to be overly compassionate has me thinking the opposite, quite frankly.

What is he hiding? No, I don’t mean his past. I mean for the future. He undeniably has a greater plan than we give him credit for.

Getting up and heading to Papa’s office is where my elder brother found me another hour later and with a group of us.

“How?” Angelo walks in with a deep frown. “Why would your friend just pop in? Did you think to undermine me?”

What?

Paolo, who is behind him, also gives me an unfriendly stare. Thomas comes then, yawning widely, still in his silk sleepwear. Sigh, this boy needs to adult better- this is not some American Pie life he’s part of.

“Mama, Uncle Gregory wishes to have a word with you,” Angelo shoots off to the side without taking a seat, his line of vision still on me. I hadn’t seen mama, but she must have been behind them because when Angelo spoke, I saw she was taking a seat.

“What fcuking friend?” I asked, knowing he meant Aldo somehow, but still, I needed confirmation. Did my brother think I was capable of going against him? We lived by code and order, and I never stepped out of line. He is the eldest, and I leave matters up to him even when I know I could do a better job at times. Because I respect him.

Vertical lines dot my forehead, and I scan every person outside, pausing at Peter, who gives me a ‘you know’ stare.

“Ooh, look here. Ale, tiene labia.” (smooth talker) Mama gets up, angered by Angelo’s words, and glares at him.

Fcuking- “Conti?” Aldo.

“Si, Conti barged in like he owned the place.” Paolo’s hands are inside his emerald green pants pocket, and mama gets up from her seat then. He is equally mad as Angelo.

“How the- I thought you invited him?” I deny their accusation. Peter gave me the impression that he was- dammit. He should text better instead of his few words. ‘Aldo is here.’

It should have read, ‘Aldo showed up uninvited, and your brother is proper mad.’

I would have prepared myself better. Instead, here I am, embarrassed as fcuk in front of everyone.

Angelo pours himself a neat drink as well. “You moron! I sent the request last year, but he declined, saying he had more important things to do. Golf? Are you even aware of the laughingstock I was made to feel like last year, and now this added to it?” He means that a list of the invited guests is to be sent out to all the invited one- so everyone expected to see Aldo, and he was a no-show.

“Cállate la boca!” (Shut your mouth) Mama raises her voice, but she is glaring at Angelo, not me. “Can’t you read better? Your brother had no idea he would show up. Call yourself the head of the house, and come home here to bicker over nonsense. If your father had been here...” The last part was in anguish.

I was right about Aldo. He wanted to make an impression. He followed nobody’s rules and moved at his own pace. He knew he would be allowed- a bold chance he took, but he knew he would have been taken into the meeting whether they wanted him there or not.

He was influential and prominent enough to be let in.