Alessio
“Back in my days, we didn’t have all those privileges you and your brothers have,” Dad dipped his brush into the blue paint. “The three of you have been spoiled your entire lives.”
“Then I’m glad I’m not from your days.”
It was funny to see how Melody was never a topic in these conversations. Compared to her, we were raised quite humbly. I can’t remember me or my brothers having multiple horses at her age.
Dad had found himself a new hobby, refurbishing old cabinets and bringing them back to his aunts. Unfortunately, Dante and I had become unwilling helpers in this project.
This morning Dante had managed to escape him, but I took one for the team and decided to help him.
It was mostly to kill some time as I waited for Gian’s text. He was already on his way back and would meet us halfway as discussed. There we would trap Isaac and take him to one of the empty warehouses.
“Have you already thought about the question I asked you yesterday?”
I thought about his unexpected question. He asked me what kind of father I wanted to be, and I told him I needed some time to think about it, hoping he’d forget.
“I have.”
“And what’s your answer?” Dad grabbed the brush from my hands, forcing me to focus on him.
“I want to be the kind of father you’ve been to me,” I spoke. Dad was someone I respected. He gave me a good childhood, wasn’t as strict as most expected him to be, and let us live our lives. The only thing he ever asked for in return was support and respect.
Dad chuckled, “And how are you going to do that?”
I shrugged nonchalantly, not knowing the answer to that question. It felt as if I was back in school again. How could he ask me about something that I hadn’t experienced yet?
It was different with Naty. I had no say in whatever she did because that was all Mena, and she had done a good job.
With this new child, I was stepping into fatherhood without a clear idea of what to do.
“A good parent starts with a good and healthy relationship,” Dad advised. “Your Mom and I never argued, never tried to change each other. I’ve always managed to keep her happy because we’re on the same page.” he said. “Of course not always, but even then we’re on the same page that we would just have to agree to disagree.”
His words felt like an attack. Everyone knew Mena and I were barely on the same page about anything.
“Are you saying Mena isn’t happy?” I asked, taking the brush back from his hand to continue my work.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I felt him staring at me. “I don’t know. She wasn’t happy when you stuck that guy’s head on a spear,” he pointed out bluntly.
I let out a nervous chuckle, not feeling where this conversation was headed. That chapter had been closed and I wanted it to stay that way. There was no reason to dwell on the past, not when she had already told me what I wanted to hear. She was with me.
“I know she’ll feel the same when she sees what you’ll do to your friend who betrayed us,” Dad’s words startled me.
He knew.
I stopped what I was doing and dropped the brush. Then I looked at Dad, searching his face for signs of anger or disappointment. There was none.
“You know?”
“Gian has both yours and Jimena’s best interests at heart. He’s looking out for you.”
“He told you?”
“He did, and I’m glad he did,” Dad spoke calmly. “At least someone is telling me the truth around here.”
Relief washed over me as I realized he was unaware of Isaac’s involvement with Stefano’s death. I hadn’t told Gian, which meant he didn’t know and that was a good thing.
If he knew, there was no way he’d be standing right here, painting a cabinet.
I thought my brothers and I had all agreed Dad didn’t need any of this, but apparently not.
“So she wants to stand beside you?”
“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have known-I can’t tell her to back down if she doesn’t want to,” I said, defending her before he could even say something.
“I understand why Mena insisted on getting involved. She’s not as stupid as you and your brothers.” Dad said. “You can’t just do whatever you want to do in this situation. You have to play it smart.”
“I know.”
“And if she wants to stay by your side, she needs to grow some thick skin. Show us she can be a Fanucci.”
I had no idea whether his words were meant to be reassuring, but they weren’t. If anything, they made me doubt my decision about getting her involved because something told me Mena was incapable of growing thick skin. I had told her the same, but that was just not her.
She was a kind person with a kind heart by nature.
Only a kind person would walk miles to save an old woman who looked like she was already on the verge of dying and didn’t have many years left to begin with.
Dad went back to what he was doing, working on the cabinet and smiled slightly. “You know what needs to happen to him, right?” he tested me. “Interrogate and…”
“He needs to die. I know,” I finished for him.
“Does Mena know?”
“Yes, she knows. We’ve discussed this.”
Dad hummed. “I like her. In a way, I see her as a daughter.”
“But?” I pressed, sensing there was more he wanted to say.
“But don’t let her make you weak or talk you out of it. That guy needs to die,” Dad stated. “Someone who could play his part so well, manage to get close to you and get himself a promotion-needs to die. Those closest to him need to die.”
I nodded, understanding the hard line he was drawing. The close people he was speaking of were possible family if he had any-and he did.
Only I couldn’t do that because I had made Mena a promise.
Luckily also that hadn’t reached Dad’s ears as Gian was already gone when she requested me to take care of them.
Dad’s approval had always meant everything, but so did his warning. As I took in his words, a part of me accepted what needed to be done, while another part of me wished for a world where such decisions weren’t mine to bear.
Why did it have to be him?
Why could it not have been anyone else?
Why did it have to be my problem to fix?
“You’ve grown softer, a bit unfortunate but good for you. Do not ever put one person above your entire family. You have a duty to Mena, but also to this family.”
I took a breath, “I know.”
“He has to die, and whether that’s by your hand or my hand is up to you-but know that there will be serious consequences if I’ll be forced to step in,” he warned.
I paused, wondering exactly what he meant by consequences. The thought of him having to step in wasn’t something I wanted. It would make me a failure, but I wasn’t worried-I knew that wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t even think about letting Isaac live, not after everything he had done.
“You keep telling me you know, but what will you do when Mena asks you to spare his life?” Dad moved himself in front of me, and something told me he would not move away until he would get an answer that would satisfy him. “Don’t forget you asked us to close those curtains after she ran off.”
“I need you tell me, when it comes down to it-will you choose us or her?”