And he’d dragged us along with him.
I remembered the first time I’d asked to stay home with mother. He’d pulled a gun from his suit jacket and told me to be the man he’d raised me to be.
It was just how Mario worked, how he’d built us up from a young age. Mario Armanelli groomed me to be ruthless, forceful, and greedy.
I tried to be the complete opposite.
I stared out the window at the palm trees. I felt the warm sun that leaked through them. This town was quaint, understated, and probably under utilized. Still, I’d been providing protection and partnership to so many over the years based on my father’s illegal doings. I wouldn’t do that anymore. Maribel would have to let me take over her shares and run a clean business or I’d pull my protection.
The mindset was one I didn’t enjoy particularly. Allies were always good to have, but I needed them to be legitimate. My father had dirtied our hands time and time again. My family deserved to run everything legally, above the law, and still maintain the level of financial stability we’d always had. We’d earned that through years and years of hell.
I rubbed my chin. “We go to the source then.”
“Maribel only wanted virtual meetings because of her health.”
“Not doable, Dante. You and I both know that. I can’t read her when she’s on a screen.”
He sighed and texted away.
We planned a surprise visit that night and pulled up to a house very near to the coast, close enough that the older woman could make it there by foot if she had the mobility.
We exited the car onto a dirt driveway. The plants around it weren’t enormous nor was the home. It didn’t seem as though the person who lived here was doing so lavishly or hoarding money I didn’t know about.
Her porch had been painted white fairly recently, and as I stepped up onto the wood, it felt sturdy enough, even where the winds and the rain could potentially ruin it.
“What the hell are you doing on my porch?” an older woman with deep wrinkles croaked at me through a screen door.
“We have business to discuss.” I pulled at my tie, seeing her brow furrow.
“I only discussed business with your father, Bastian.” She sighed like she knew I was coming.
“I haven’t introduced myself,” I said as I took in her stance. She hadn’t opened the door yet and I would wait for the invite before I entered.
“No need to. We both know who each other are. You look like your father. And I’m sure I don’t look anything like how he didn’t describe me. I say didn’t because we all know he didn’t drop my name to you once.”
I schooled my facial features as she waited and studied me.
She smiled when she realized I wouldn’t let anything slip in my expressions. I’d trained myself to never give a thing away. “I’m thinking I’ve met my match in you because your father would have started talking already. Even so, I just said it and I’ll say it again, I only discussed business with your father.” She smoothed the white nightgown she was wearing. The woman wasn’t at all concerned about her appearance. She brushed away my visit, lessening the importance by focusing on her pajamas.
“My father’s dead, Maribel.” Her gaze shot up and she scanned the scenery behind me. “You know I ordered a hit on him.”
I molded myself at the time of his death. I called that shot to kill him and watched him bleed out, watching the beginning of our sins washing away with him.
She scoffed but glanced past me to my security. Dante was a good friend, a man who I trusted to stand by me while I made house calls like the one I was making now.
The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “My granddaughter is here. Don’t say a word about my shares in the oil company. You got it? And I’ll sell them to you fair and square. You keep my city running. That’s the deal.”
I hummed and rocked on my heels. I met her stare and we watched each other with the legacies and traditions flying between us, weighing us down, ripping at our trust in each other.
“I won’t bend on that. You make good on this town, Bastian.”
“You paid some Irish to have that food truck on the beach, not us.”
She scoffed. “One time. It keeps my granddaughter happy. It wasn’t a slight to your family like your father has done to mine time and time again. Now, let me get dressed.” She slammed the door on both of us.
Dante chuckled behind me. “Not our warmest welcome.”
“Fuck me,” I grumbled. Morina hadn’t known.