MAXIMO
“I think this is the right time for you to get married, Scar.”
The chatter in the room slowly died down at Uncle Roberto’s words. We were in a private room in one of my bars where I usually held meetings with the top leaders of the mafia.
Every man at the table stared at me as I took one long drag of my cigar and blew the smoke out. The silence only lasted for about thirty seconds, but the tension in the air made it seem like it had stretched on for hours.
“You think?” My voice sounded calm, a contrast to how I felt on the inside.
“You turn thirty this year. You are the Don of our mafia. To solidify your position, you have to get married,” he said.
If my eyes could kill, he would have dropped dead the minute he opened his mouth to speak. I assessed him, taking in his greying h
