Blood And Its expectations
436 Words
Sunday dinner at the Moretti estate was less about family and more about control. The long oak table, polished to a mirror sheen, reflected the faces of men who only smiled when a deal closed or a rival bled. Giovanni Moretti sat at the head, carving roast lamb like he was slicing up the city.
Dominic sat across from Luca, who was already on his second glass of wine. Their mother, silent as always, watched her sons with the eyes of a woman who knew too much and said too little.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” Luca said, his tone light but his stare heavy. “Too quiet.”
Dominic forced a grin. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
“Girls or ghosts?” Luca asked, sipping his wine.
Dominic’s jaw clenched. “Does it matter?”
“It does when you’re supposed to be taking on more responsibility.” Their father’s voice cut through the room like steel. “You think this family runs itself?”
Dominic looked up slowly. “I never asked for the family, Pop.”
Gio slammed his fist on the table, making the silverware jump. “You were born into it. You carry the name, you carry the weight. That’s the way it is.”
Luca leaned back, watching with amusement, as if this was all a play he’d seen a hundred times before.
“You think you’re different, Dom?” Luca asked. “Think you can run off to some clean little life with a clean little girl and forget who you are?”
Dominic’s fork scraped his plate. “I don’t need a lecture from you.”
Luca leaned in, voice low. “You’ve got no idea what it costs to protect this family. You don’t get to just walk away.”
Dominic met his eyes, and for a moment the room felt like it was holding its breath.
“Then maybe I don’t want to be protected,” Dominic said.
Silence.
Their mother finally spoke, softly. “Boys…”
But Giovanni was already rising. “Enough. Both of you. The drop is Thursday. You’re going together. No more arguments.”
Dominic pushed back from the table, appetite gone.
As he walked out into the night, Luca followed.
“Careful, brother,” Luca said. “You’re walking a thin line.”
Dominic turned to him. “Maybe you already crossed it.”
Their eyes locked.
No more words. No more pretending.
And for the first time, Dominic felt it—deep in his bones. Something was coming. Something neither of them could stop.
- Writer
