Damiano

My eyes fixate on the expanse of fields on either side of the road—just vegetation, hills adorned with a verdant carpet—nothing resonates with familiarity. What is familiar to me is concrete. Only that.

After settling my father, nose buried in his paws, I set out for Franco's. Adhering to the plan, I accelerate, eager to arrive before dinner. Father detained me longer than expected.

Amara comes to my thoughts, and the urge to obtain her number intensifies. I wish to call her and check on her well-being. Am I too protective with her ? I find myself perplexed by my inclination towards her. Has she managed to leave an impression on me without my conscious awareness?

It seems so.

As I peel away each layer, I feel not only the revelation of mysteries but also the love growing inside me, a sentiment I can no longer disregard. The fire burning in my chest when she is in danger, my heart aching witnessing her on that hospital bed—it compels me to confine her in my arms and never let her go.

Is this love? Or has it transmuted into an obsession? Regardless, I am determined to unveil all about her and discern my true feelings. Losing her from my sight is not even a consideration.

Franco awaits me in front of the mansion, and I park the car. We exchange pats on the back before entering the house. He prepares 'pasta al sugo di fagioli,' and my mouth waters in anticipation.

I recall that my mom used to prepare the same recipe every week on Fridays. Franco's rendition closely resembles Mom's; after all, she taught him.

"I see you're enjoying it," Franco remarks with a smile as I near the end of my plate.

"It's as good as always," I reply between bites, satisfying him.

"Damiano, I don't want to give you indigestion, but I plan to marry Angelina," Franco declares seriously, placing his fork on the table. His plate isn't even half finished, and I sense his nervousness about my reaction. Couldn't he have let me finish my damn plate in joy? I was thoroughly enjoying it. Now, a piece of pasta lodges in my throat, and I cough.

"Are you okay?" Franco frowns. I could have been if you could have waited a damned five minutes. "Boss…," my mind is split in two.

Franco is a good man, and I trust him to take care of Angelina. He even plans to retire and keep her protected here in the middle of nowhere. However, I also know that he can be ruthless when not obeyed. The people he has killed surpass any other leader before us—whether in rage against the Russians, those who infiltrated our gang, or our men attempting to play tricks on him.

On the flip side, I didn't want to hand Angelina over to him. She might be considered too old to marry, but she is incredibly smart. With her skills working in law, she could live alone. Father also wanted to delay her marriage; she was valuable not just for matrimony.

"Boss, promise me that you will never force her and protect her always," I make my decision. Angelina will marry someone from our world, and Franco is the man I trust the most to give her to. If she stays alone, she would be in front of hellfire, so she might as well have someone protecting her. She lacks skills in guns, knives, or hand-to-hand combat.

"I will protect her for sure. And about forcing, you know me. She will be free to do what she wants. I like her, and choosing her will benefit not only me but her too," he looks into my eyes with sadness and continues.

"It's about time I let my late wife rest in peace. She always told me that I should marry even if she dies. That's what I will do, for her sake. Angelina will be safe and free to choose if she wants to open up to me or not. I just want to keep her close. Marco almost decided to marry her to some old hag from New York." I frown.

Is this payback for putting a leash on him? Was he going to sacrifice Angelina to anger me? Where is his saying that Angelina will always be our lawyer and marriage can wait? Damn old man.

"I didn't knew about that. Now I feel like I own you, Boss." Franco shakes his head and passes me a glass of wine.

"You don't. I did it because I wanted to." He sips from his glass and smiles shortly.

"Was this the only reason you called me?" I look him in the eyes, and he seems concerned.

"Salvatore knows about the warehouse where we keep the drugs. Stefan was working with him. Damn prick! I want to move the drugs from there as soon as possible, but we have to make some space in the other warehouses." Franco looks pissed off, but I can see he has it all planned in his mind.

"The ceremony will be in two days. As soon as it ends, in the night I can move them. I will make some space for them in the meantime. Leave it on me." I sip and smirk.

After miraculously saving Angelina from the old man's clutches, I can only want to repay him. He laughs and understands that he can't do anything to change my mind about it.

"Sounds great, Damiano."

A call interrupts our conversation—'Rosa' appears on the screen. I excuse myself, descending the stairs, leaving the terrace behind.

"Yes."

"Dam!" Rosa's energetic voice indicates nothing wrong happened. I sigh in relieve.

"What is it? You know I am dining with Franco. Tell me quickly." I gaze at the small pond before me; the water is clear, fish swimming.

"I asked Dad, and Rafaele can come tomorrow to stay with us until after the ceremony. You just have to pick him up tomorrow from school. Don't forget; his class ends around 1 PM."

My thoughts align, and I consider it a good idea. Rafaele's inclusion in the ceremony and staying with Rosa till then seems perfect.

"Got it." Rosa's exuberant confirmation resonates, and I hear Armando advising her to lower her tone.

"Give me Armando on the phone quickly." I intend to check if anything happened today while I was preoccupied.

"Yes, boss." Rosa hands him the phone, but I can still hear her more than Armando.

"How were things today?"I inquire as Rosa bursts into laughter, followed by a thump.

"What's going on?"I begin to question what on earth is happening when I hear Armando shouting, 'let her go' and 'be a good girl.'

"I brought Daisy; Rosa asked to see her. If you don't want me to, I can…"Armando finally focuses on me once the loud noises subside, and I hear a door closing in the background.

"Forget about it. Is Rosa fine?" I resign to the inevitable havoc that Rafaele will likely wreak tomorrow.

"She is fine, boss. Daisy just jumped on her a little. I can assure you Rosa was not scratched. I trim Daisy's nails regularly. She just likes to jump on people she likes, and…"

"I got it. No need to explain. Just take care of Rosa…. and Daisy." I sigh after closing the phone, climbing the stairs to find Franco tidying up the plates.

"Is everything alright?" He glances at me.

"Yeah." I wish I could say more, but it would be a lie. Daisy in my apartment, Armando unable to control her, not to mention Rosa—concerns start to nibble at me. I'm not eager to witness the state of my living room.

Franco generously offers me a night at his mansion,since I plan to discuss further details with him. Tomorrow, I will pick up Rafaele from school and head to the apartment. It sounds like a reasonable plan without having to drive back and forth.

11 PM displays on the dashboard of my car .

I slept well last night, and now I am parking in the parking lot of the school, after passing the front gate .

Rafaele is at an age where he can decide his future independently. At 17, he is in grade 11, and besides that, the gang provides him with the opportunity to become a made man. Despite being my younger brother, I can't say I need to protect him much.

He has his share of violent acts, and beyond that, he appears to be following in Angelina's footsteps, aspiring to become a lawyer. He is intelligent, but I would say he is too rebellious. Apart from me, Rosa, and Angelina, he refuses to heed anyone's advice. I am relieved that he maintains that independence.

Stepping out of the car, I zip up my jacket. I make sure to conceal the gun at my side, not wanting any kids to catch sight of it. My eyes scan the groups of cheerful kids, excited that the school day has come to an end.

Anticipating that Rafaele won't be among those groups, I cast my gaze toward the school entrance. He always takes his time walking and avoids bumping into people. Just as I contemplate going to retrieve him from that school, he emerges at the entrance door, engaged in conversation with a girl boasting curly wavy long hair.

She is slender and shorter than him. Witnessing his smile at the girl, I ponder whether I should raise some questions with him later.

Clad in his usual black attire, she wears a flowy dress that ends above her knees. It seems like they represent a Yin and Yang dynamic for real.Approaching the parking lot, Rafaele notices me, and I respond with a smirk. His raised middle finger is unmistakable, and I make a mental note to address it with a reprimand later on. After exchanging a hug with the girl, he makes his way towards me.

"Why the smirk, Dam?" He smirks back, turning to look at the girl, who proceeds toward Amara. A boy, reaching Amara's shoulder, clings to her hand.

Wait! Amara?! What is she doing here? Is good that I am leaned on the car's front .She is suppose to be in bed resting !

"Do you know who the short-haired girl is?" I ask, hoping against hope for a hallucination. Rafaele glances at me, and my displayed frown urges him to divulge the information promptly.

"She is Isabelle's sister, and the boy, Mattia, is also a sibling of theirs. Let me think… Ahhh… Amara is her name ." He ruffles his hair, proud of his memory.

"But why are you asking? Interested in your sister-in-law's family?" He smirks, but I am not in the mood for his jokes. I am seething with anger at Amara for carelessly roaming around in her wounded body.

"Get in the car." I snap, still frowning, and he shrugs.

As Rafaele leaves, Amara and I lock eyes when she has a full view of my body leaning on the car's hood. Frozen in time for a few seconds, we both remain transfixed.Through my furious expression, it's clear that I won't let this go easily—we are going to have a talk.

Rafaele pops his head out of the window, already inside the car. "Come on, Dam! Let's go! Why the hell do you stand there?" I flinch, leaving Amara gazing at my back, hastily getting into the car.

As we depart the parking lot, I turn to exit the front gate, where Amara and her siblings converse. Amara seems to be glancing at my car frequently, not that I don't follow her with my eyes as I pass them. My displeasure visible .

"Why are you looking at my girl?" Rafaele glares at me, and I glance at him.

"I don't care about her. Well, maybe I should start caring about her, probably…" I sigh.

"So you would accept her as my wife… later?" I frown, looking at him. Is he genuinely serious about this girl? If Amara finds out, she will kill him.

"No."

"Why?" Rafaele frowns, his confusion reaching new levels.

"I will tell you later."

"Hey!"

I drive fast, ignoring his complaints. Rosa will be more than happy to deal with him. Not me.