Chapter 4 #2
Snatching away from my father, I stepped out of the door, where there was some form of love, into the real world and next to the snake.
My mother was still pretending, but was focused on me.
Niccoli nudged me aggressively with his shoulder, but I kept my sights on Sandro.
My mother’s cries intensified, and I knew that she’d gone from faking it to weeping in real life.
She knew what happened anytime I was not under the protection that our roof provided, only when it was just us three.
My father could console and pour into us behind closed doors, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t protect us from his own family, so I knew that in the real world, he’d leave me out to drown just the same.
It was then that I concluded that if someone couldn’t love me fully, wholly, and out loud, they couldn’t love me at all.
If I had no intention of loving someone, I wouldn’t give them a false sense of hope that I would.
Because that was what my father was to us.
A temporary relief. A false sense of hope.
Unblinking, I used the back of my hand to swipe at my nose.
My father was such a great pretender that the hateful glare he shot me almost seemed real.
Maybe it was—maybe he really did hate us, but pretended he loved us.
Either way, I was done with the whiplash.
He was right; my mother deserved better, and even if it took my last breath, she’d get it.
“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. Let all that you do be done in love. Corinthians 16:13-14. I’m always listening, father.”
Grabbing my shirt, Niccoli dragged me away, and I kept my eyes locked on my father until my home was no longer in view.
I hadn’t been here in a while. Truth be told, I didn’t know why the fuck I was here to begin with.
This was grave number two of two. Five or so miles back, you could find my father’s original resting spot.
When Don killed all of the men, we were young as fuck.
Although we couldn’t be happier that the Cuppacios’ reign had ended, we were still faced with a few fears.
We’d been stuck with women and children to provide for, and we’d barely had hair on our dicks. Then, we had to bury all of these men.
Ezio had stumbled upon some safes, and after paying a few of the women who wanted to leave, we bought the cheapest plots available and buried them niggas in a row.
They had inexpensive gray headstones above the ground, which had been a requirement of the gravesite, and their caskets were no more than cheap pine boxes.
Hell, we’d even buried them in suits from their closets.
They didn’t deserve proper burials, but we had to lay them to rest at the very least. Now, here I was, on a gloomy day with gray clouds hovering above in my windy-ass city, staring at the granite like it was about to talk back.
Lifting my head, I popped my neck and sighed. Grabbing my left wrist with my right palm, I crossed my arms in front of me. “What the fuck done happened now?”
“I’m surprised I didn’t find you with your dick out, using this muthafucka as your personal toilet,” his voice sounded as his body appeared to the right of me.
I angled my head to get a good look at the only person on this planet who could have found me.
Scoffing, I looked back at the four-foot-tall black granite slab that displayed his name, birth date, and death date.
I couldn’t bring myself to have “loving father and husband” engraved on it because that would have been a lie.
“How the fuck you find me, Don?” I asked again.
Doing a one-eighty, I faced Demise Rinaldi completely. Just as I was in a suit and tie, so was Demise. It was rare that you caught that nigga in street clothes these days, and as of late, I’d been in my mafia attire more than normal.
The left side of his mouth curved up, and I knew this nigga was about to come out of his mouth with some slick shit.
That was Don, though. He either said some shit that made you want to beat his ass or kill his ass.
There was no in between. The nigga didn’t know when to turn his ignorance off to save his fucking life.
Sizing him up, I swiped my thumb across my nose, getting annoyed with his silence. “What the fuck you want, Don?”
He took a step closer in my direction, and I didn’t know who the fuck this nigga thought he was intimidating, but it damn sure wasn’t me.
Often, Don was granted approbation from a nigga because, technically, he was my boss and was responsible for how my family ate.
But us Cuppacios had been handling shit for a long time before he brought his ass around.
He had a lot of shit with him, but he hadn’t dangled any bread and butter over our faces, and that kept him on this side of the earth because we didn’t give a fuck.
Nevertheless, I had a lot of respect for Don, even though on most days I wanted to put him in a pine box.
He’d single-handedly dismantled not only his own mob by killing his father, but our mob as well by killing ours.
He saved my mama and ’nem. For that, I gave his ass more grace than normal.
Because make no mistake, with or without him, I was getting to the paper.
“You know, you Cuppacios the only niggas on the planet that talk slick and still got your life. I wonder why that is…” He gave me a teasing smirk.
“Because us Cuppacio niggas will go toe to toe with you, win or draw, because it fasho ain’t no losing. Now, again… what can I do for you?”
Don broke out in a full-on grin, making his ass look just as crazy as Matteo. “I want to kill y’all so damn bad, but I’m man enough to admit that I just might shed a half a tear behind you niggas. I don’t know why, but I’ve grown fond of you hard-headed, disrespectful muthafuckas.”
We engaged in a stare off before Don turned to face my father’s tomb and continued, “Of all the Cuppacios… I think I fuck with you the hardest. You know why?”
“I still don’t know why you here, so let’s answer that question before I answer any of yours.”
Don snapped his head at me while keeping his body facing forward.
“Hold the fuck up, muthafucka! You gone let me get to it, all right? Impatient as fuck, damn!” He faced forward again.
“Anyway, as I was saying… I fuck with you the hardest because, you unpredictable. Everything those other niggas did, I was hip to it before it occurred.”
My brow rose. “So you knew Ezio was going to nearly kill your sister by allowing her to overdose?”
“Nigga, no! That shit threw me for a fucking loop. I’m still surprised I let that muthafucka breathe after that bullshit. I’ve killed niggas for way less.”
I shrugged because, had my nonexistent sister overdosed because of a nigga, it would’ve been lights out for that nigga.
Fuck rules. However, I had no response for Don, so I waited.
He would get to the real reason for coming all the way to Chicago to find me eventually.
That nigga called me impatient, but he was really talking about his fucking self.
Had I shown up to the Dungeon wanting to rap, he would’ve given me all of sixty seconds to speak my piece.
“Them other niggas act like they don’t like me, but they really do.
I may even step out on a limb and say, they love me.
But, you? You’d kill me without blinking.
You’re probably the only nigga that got the balls to do it.
My own uncle couldn’t even kill me after knowing I’d blown his brother’s brains out.
But, you? You’d do it swifter than these winds.
” He held his hand up, spreading his fingers, letting the wind course through.
My trigger finger twitched, forcing me to resist the urge to pull the gun from my waist and show Don just how factual he was. But I still had no words for him. I would neither confirm nor deny the allegations.
“I’m here because… I need a favor from you.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “Get the fuck outta here. You pop up in Chicago because you need me? You the Don—all you had to do was summon me, and I would have had no choice but to come. You never had a problem with forcing us to do some shit we wouldn’t if a muthafucka paid us too.
So, cut the shit. The Don don’t do favors. ”
He’d just cancel a meeting I requested over some petty stuff, and now he’s here like he’s Timmy and I’m one of the Fairy OddParents granting wishes and shit.
“You right. The Don doesn't do favors. But Demise Rinaldi does.”
If Don was here asking me to handle some shit for him, it had to have been something I one thousand percent wouldn’t want to do.
My plate was too full already. I couldn’t add shit else to it except my current plans to finalize this marriage shit.
Outside of the tasks being a duty, I was a lonely fucking king.
I had my brother, my cousins, my family—a full court, but the throne was empty.
I’d put off filling her seat long enough.
It was time for me to add that missing element in my life.
That was all I was able to make room for: crowning my queen.
My mind screamed at me to tell his ass, “No.”
But, I found myself asking, “What you need, Don?” with as much enthusiasm as a tired toddler.
“I need you down in CDMX.”
I couldn’t travel until at least another six weeks, especially out of the country. I still asked “When?”
Don cocked his head. “Do you know what CDMX is?”
Peering at him, I grunted. That was the only response to that question he was getting.
“And you doubt that I fuck with you the toughest. You hadn’t even asked what I needed you down there for—just when. Hmmph.” Don taunted.
“Don—”
“Aite, aite! Ole serious-ass nigga. First, I’ll tell you what it’s for. I need you to go to a dinner party.”
Again. I gave nothing.
“Ines Ledesma,” he said as if the name wasn’t alarming.