Isaac
It was only afternoon when Isaac carried a large bucket of grapes back into the mansion. As he walked, he was surrounded by the giggles of the children running around him.
Among them were two of the many children of Amaro Ortega, a ten-year-old and an eight-year-old girl. They reminded him so much of his own daughter.
The older one, Milena, looked up at him with wide curious eyes. “Can I help you carry the grapes, Mr. Isaac?” she asked.
Isaac glanced down at her with a kind smile. “Maybe next time, kid. You know your brother doesn’t like you working.”
“So what? He doesn’t like us talking to you either, but I still do it,” Milena retorted. Isaac chuckled softly as the kids ran off.
He had been brought to the house of Amaro Ortega, Julian’s brother. Amaro was a lawyer, a good and quiet man who didn’t say much. When Isaac first arrived, he had prepared himself for the worst, expecting some form of punishment or at least harsh treatment for all the damage he had caused the Fanuccis.
Instead, Amaro had surprised him with his kindness. He told Isaac he wasn’t going to punish him for being a good civilian. The man had even encouraged him to own up to his identity and let him into the household as if he were one of their own.
All he asked in return was for Isaac to help his wife around the house and to train a few of his sons, four boys aged fourteen to sixteen. This request had surprised Isaac because when he first met the man, he thought he seemed clean and fair. Someone with no mob ties.
Quite different from his brother Julian or any other man he had met along the way. Isaac had doubted Amaro would be involved in any shady dealings if it weren’t for his brother, but the moment he asked him to train his sons, he realized that perhaps there was more to the man.
Still, things around here were much different than with the Fanuccis. Isaac found it quieter, more peaceful, and a happier environment.
He entered the house and placed the bucket of grapes on the kitchen table. “Here you go, Mrs. Ortega,” he said, looking at the woman.
Mrs. Ortega looked at him with her bright eyes that matched her blonde hair.
“It’s been nine months. I told you to call me Carla,” the woman who seemed younger than her age spoke.
Isaac liked the woman; she had always been kind to him and the two spent a lot of time together. Over time, their bond had grown stronger.
“Carla,” he corrected himself with a slight smile.
“Did you need me for anything else?”
“No, hun.”
Isaac nodded. “Well, we need to stop spending so much time together, Carla-or your son might get jealous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, my boys like you,” Carla said, beckoning her head to the window where the younger boys were playing outside.
Isaac chuckled, “I’m not talking about them.”
Amaro had one older son, Theo, who had called Isaac a rat to his face a few times and still hadn’t warmed up to him. Despite the family’s warm welcome, Theo’s resentment towards him was hard to ignore.
“Theo has been angry at the world since the day he was born. I wouldn’t pay too much attention to him,” Carla waved it off. “By the way, my husband wanted to see you. He’s in his office. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Isaac agreed. “Thank you, Mrs. Ort-Carla!” he corrected himself at the last moment as he walked out.
Isaac headed to Amaro’s office, and when he saw the door was open, he invited himself inside. “Close the door behind you,” the man spoke, sitting behind his desk.
He followed his instructions and then sat down, looking at Amaro, who looked right back at him. By now, Isaac had concluded that Amaro rarely started conversations, and if he did, it was always a couple of minutes after the person had settled in.
He was the type of person to first read the room before deciding how he would approach a situation.
Isaac cracked a small smile, silently observing the man. Amaro had a full head of dark curls and dark eyes that seemed to fish for answers, always probing, always watching.
Swallowing his breath, Isaac shifted his gaze to the picture on Amaro’s desk.
It was a new picture of his daughter, Dalia, one that hadn’t been there before.
Dalia was 22 and in university, but she sometimes came back home to visit. She was kind and easy to talk to, but even then Isaac couldn’t help but think she asked a lot of questions. Too many questions.
She reminded him of her…
“Is it one of her bad ones?” Amaro asked when Isaac’s eyes were still glued to the picture.
“No, it’s not the picture,” Isaac chuckled. “She’s beautiful-it’s just that she reminds me of someone.”
“I hope you weren’t in love with that person because my daughter is off-limits,” Amaro shot him a cold glare, and Isaac laughed.
What he felt for Mena was love, but not that kind of love. She was just the kind of person he wanted to take care of, and even after knowing she had exposed his identity-he still felt the same.
In his eyes, she was a good person who ended up somewhere they shouldn’t.
“The only woman I ever loved in that way is my ex-wife,” Isaac said. Regret hit him as he thought about Jessica, the woman he had left behind with his daughter.
The two had their ups and downs, but he knew she loved him just as much as he loved her, and if he could do everything all over again, he definitely would’ve taken another approach.
“Your ex-wife, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Isaac worried. “Is she alright, is my daughter alright?”
“They’re just fine and well compensated privately by the Fanuccis,” Amaro said.
Isaac felt slight relief, but it was soon overshadowed by the question that haunted his mind. “Have you thought about my request? Is that why you called me here?”
Isaac had requested to see his family. At first, he was fine with the consequences and learned to accept them-but the more time he spent with Amaro’s children, the more he couldn’t help but feel it should be his daughter who he should be spending his time with. Little Sammy.
“I’ve thought about it, and I feel sorry for you, but I can’t let you see your family,” Amaro said.
Isaac’s heart sank a bit. He had hoped for a different answer, but deep down he knew it would not be easy. He was supposed to be dead, and being a living man was already more than he should ask for.
That still didn’t change that he missed his family more than anything, and the thought of not seeing them again was unbearable.
Amaro leaned back in his chair, locking eyes with Isaac. “I’ve let you keep your name, but you need to forget your past life. It’s time to get over them.”
Isaac clenched his fists. “With all due respect, Sir, I have a daughter-don’t ask me to just get over her.”
Amaro sighed. “If you want to live this life, sacrifices have to be made, and I know how you feel-”
“You do not know how I feel.”
The office went silent. Isaac didn’t raise his voice, but he felt angry, frustrated-all he wanted was to tell Jessica and Sammy that he was doing fine.
“I do know how you feel,” Amaro said quietly.
Isaac narrowed his eyes. “How?”
“Isaac,” Amaro shook his head slowly. “You were close to ratting out the most powerful family in the East. My brother asked me to treat you harshly, but I didn’t. I treat you with respect, my wife treats you with respect. You asked me to send flowers to Alessio’s fiancee with a message, and I did.”
Amaro took a deep breath, his gaze not leaving Isaac’s. “So when I ask you to stop asking about your family before you get all of us in trouble-I expect you to do that.”
Isaac lowered his head. He was pissed at being told to forget his family, but also grateful for the kindness he had been shown. He knew Amaro was right and that any mistake could put them all at risk, not only from the Fanuccis’ side but also from the MISA’s side-but this couldn’t be it.
“Sir, if you truly know how I feel, you must also know that it’s wrong to keep a father away from his daughter,” Isaac stated. “My daughter… Sammy needs me.”
Something in Amaro’s face changed. His usual stony expression softened.
“I also did everything you asked of me. I trained your sons, I’ve shown my loyalty, and if you truly know how I feel, then please, I’m begging you-let me be a father to my daughter,” Isaac pleaded.
Silence filled the room again. Amaro looked down at his desk, and his fingers tapped the wood. He stayed like that for a while, deep in thought. After a minute or so, he looked up.
“If that’s how you feel, then I’ll find you a way,” Amaro shrugged.
Isaac’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Thank you, Sir.”
That was all Isaac wanted. A chance to one day see the two people he loved the most again. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough to give him hope.