4

Niccolò

THE MAN SPITS out his teeth onto the concrete.

"You're a foreigner," He smirked a now toothless smile. "What makes you think you can come in here and just take over?"

I scoff. "Mr. Lovet, have you ever heard of the saying 'Might makes Right?' Personally, I thought it was generous, taking a cut of profits and leaving you alone."

Son of a bitch spits at me shoe. It's an expensive shoe, too.

"Bullshit. We don't want your so called generosity. We want you to go back to Mexico where you came from."

Wow. Mexico? Really?

"Not only is that racist, it's highly incorrect. I am Italian. Italy is almost 10, 200 kilometers away from Mexico you stronzo ignorante."

(Ignorante asshole)

I kick him in his stomach making him groan in pain.

"What?!"

I roll my eyes, kick him again for making m do math. "6,300 miles."

"Oh!" he nods, wincing.

I reach out my hand. "Take care of him." My coat is out in my hand.

"Eh, Capo. Do you mean take care of him, or....Take Care of Him?"

I roll my eyes. "Take Care of Him. End his life. God, why was no one this stupid when my Cousin was in charge."

The man stands in front of me pensively. "I think it's because your cousin was more straight forward. You're more complex, and us, of the family, don't really know how you handle things-"

"Are you kidding me? Rhetorical question! Proca Miseria!"

(Bloody hell.)

", Capo," The guy, I think his name is Francesco, bends down to kiss my ring. "Kiss me, and I will skin you alive and send your flesh to your Mother."

He quickly stands up. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now just so we're clear, kill him." I emphatically restate.

"Got it boss."

"Alright guys, let's do this clean. I have to call my mother before she goes to bed."

What kind of Mafioso are these?

***

I, Niccolô Vitale, cousin of the soon to be Late Luciano Vitale am done.

"Really?!"

He grins, holding Levi. "So you finally went out in the field. I was starting to wonder."

"You gave me a bunch of newbies!"

"I gave you a group of reliable, skilled, while untrained men."

"In utmost trust, I asked you to choose the group of men I would entrust my life with."

"And I did that!"

"I'm gonna kill you!"

"Zio Nick!"

I paste a smile on my face and put my outstreched hands in her direction.

"Ah, Luna! How are you!" She jumps in my arms, and I hug her, glaring at Lucy.

"Niccoló, finally you've come to visit."

"I'm just here for a minute or two. Lucy and I have some... business to discuss."

"What did you do, Luciano Vitale?" Her hand settled on her hips.

"Nothing."

She stares at him.

"Nothing!"

***

Manon

There's no conversation at first. Just the sound of scraping forks against plates.

I push the food around. I'm not feeling well today.

“Mom, I think I need to set another appointment.”

She looks up. “Honey, the doctor said you're fine."

I roll eyes. The same thing I've heard all my life.

“Yeah, well, I'm saying I'm not."

She sighs. She's tired of this conversation, too.

“There's nothing wrong with you, Manon. That's good news. It's almost like you don't want to be okay.”

The fork clatters against the plate as I let go, anger flooding my veins heating me.

“I just want to be okay! That's all I want! But I'm not! I'm fuckin numb—!”

She gasps. “Manon!”

I yell over her.

“Is that okay? That I don't have feelings? I don't feel things, Mom!”

Hot tears roll down my face. “Even while tears are coming down my face, I don't feel it! Is that okay?”

My Dad puts his arm around her, glaring at me.

“That's quite enough, Manon. You're causing your mother distress.”

I scoff, getting up. “I'm gonna go to for a walk,” I murmured, snatching my phone.

“Manon!”

I slam the door on my way out.

***

I walk alone, kicking to random pebbles. My mind is chaos. The voices are getting louder, and everyone wants to pretend.

But right now...right now I'm scaring myself.

I need help, but everyone wants to say I'm okay.

I'm not. I'm not!

“I'm not fucking okay!”

I scream, tears running down my face.

“Is there anything I can do to change that for you, pulcino?”

(Little Chick it's an endearment.)

I look up, and there he is. Why is he always where I am?

I feel like it's not a coincidence.

“Yeah, a new car would be nice,” I answer sarcastically.

“I could arrange that.”

I eye him. “I was kidding!”

He shrugs. “I was not. Come, get off the ground, pulcino.”

Effortlessly, he takes my hand in his and raises me up to my feet.

I stand in front of him, my brown skin heating under his tender gaze. He stretches his hand toward me, and my breath catches.

His thumb wipes away my tears, our gazes locked.

“You are too pretty to be crying, bella.”

My skin heats.

“Thank you,” I murmured. We stand there a moment or so longer before his strong, warm hand leaves my skin. He clears his throat and steps back.

“Are you hungry?”

***

He takes me to the expensive Italian place downtown. Apparently he's rich. No, not rich.

This man is wealthy.

I'm dressed on some white ripped jeans and a sweatshirt that says Why Can't Someone Else Just Do It? With the Nike logo.

Not really dressed for this sort of place. But Mr. Sleeps-in-Suits is, of course.

“Really, Niccolô, I'm not dressed for—”

He waves off my concerns. “Nonsense. You look perfect. Besides, I would never eat anything but Italian food, and I'm hungry."

“I dare them to say no to me."

I read back in fear at the dark look on his face. “Oh...okay. That got murderous real quick.”

Quickly, he wipes the look from his face, smiling at me smally. “Don't mind me, pulcino. Come let's get a table.”

I shrug my insecurities off in this moment, because he obviously doesn't mind.

A young woman eyes are fastened on him as soon as she sees him.

“Ciao, welcome to Gino's—Signore Vitale! I wasn't told you would be here today. Can I get you the usual table?”

He nods silently, paying her no mind. I quirk a brow in his direction.

“And here I thought your last name was Bonaparte.” I teased.

He returns my glance with a smile.

“We both knew that was a lie, pulcino.”

I chuckled. He bowed slightly, offering his hand. “Signorina,”

“Signore.” I take his hand.

And on that moment I felt like a princess, even though I was dressed like a bum.

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