Chapter 3
ENZO
Once Nadia’s gone, I turn my chair around and stare out at the view once more.
Some days really are more exhausting than others.
There’s absolutely no way I can skip tonight’s party since Ma sent my dad over to remind me.
I’m going to have to search—well, pretend to search—for a wife, and I’m not happy about it one bit!
I can’t believe my parents have resorted to underhanded tactics. Using this party as a way of setting me up with someone, in the hopes that we’ll hit it off and then ride into the sunset to produce an heir for them, is such a ludicrous idea. I shudder just thinking about kids.
I wish the two of them would stay out of my shit and stop meddling in my life, especially when it comes to things like this. With the way they're acting, you’d think that I was out of my prime. I want to wait, do it on my own time. I don’t know what is so wrong with that.
Just thinking about this shit gives me a headache and kind of makes me want to murder my father for meddling in my life. He’s lucky I really do love his stupid ass. Plus, if I wasn’t afraid my mother would skin me alive for killing her husband, I’d have done it already.
Ma is as sweet as a pie on any given day, but lord, that lady has a temper when she’s pissed off.
I don’t want to end up on the wrong side of that temper if I kill my father.
Or maybe I should just do it and say it was an accident.
I mean, she can’t kill me because of an accident, right?
She’d most likely never let me hear the end of it, though.
She’ll badger me to death about my mistake until I want to kill myself, too, just so I won’t have to listen to her.
So, for the sake of my peace, my father gets to live another day.
I let out a sigh and turn back around to my computer to finish what I can while I’m still here.
I only manage to get about two hours of work done when I’m interrupted again, this time by my mother flouncing her way into my office unannounced.
Huh? I didn’t get the memo that today is a “visit your son at work” day.
I have the good sense not to say a word of that out loud, though, but a groan does manage to escape me at the interruption, which she hears, of course. I swear this woman has supersonic hearing or some shit.
“Did you just grumble at your mother, dear?” she questions sassily, with a hand on her hip as she stares at me like I’m five and she’s about to punish me for causing some kind of mayhem in her household.
Lucia Andretti is not a woman to be messed with, and she’d slap me across the head without provocation, no matter how old I am.
“Of course, not, Ma. Would your favorite son ever do something like that to you?”
“You’re my only son.”
“Way to make a guy feel special,” I grumble.
“Oh, grow up and stop pouting like a child.” She snickers.
“I don’t pout, ever. What are you doing here, Ma?” I question, exasperation clear in my voice, which she chooses to ignore.
“Really, Enzo Leonardo Andretti? Is that any way to speak to your mother?” she questions with an arched eyebrow. Shit! Full naming me usually means I’m in trouble for something or the other.
“Hi, beautiful. How’s my favorite girl in the world doing on this lovely day?” I ask in the politest voice I can muster, which makes her snort out a laugh.
“Flattery will not work on me today, son,” she states, rolling her eyes at me.
“Me? I would never try to use flattery to distract you. You know you’ll always be my favorite girl.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What are you up to, Mother? Just so you know, Dad came by here already to do your bidding.”
“Oh, hush, you. What bidding? I’m just here to get you out of this stuffy office early. Lord knows if I left you on your own, you’d show up at the party when it’s ending. Come on, let’s go so we have enough time to get you ready for tonight,” she tells me, her voice dripping with sugar.
I look at the time and see that it’s five p.m. It’s still pretty early. It’ll take me less than half an hour to throw on a tux and mask. Why on earth does she think I’ll need hours?
“Ma, it’s still early. We have plenty of time until the party begins.”
“Don’t care. Wrap up and let’s head out,” she says, folding her arms in front of her while staring me down.
“Do I have to attend this shit?” I grumble.
“Language! You know you’re not too old for me to ring your damn ears, right?” she gripes, acting like she doesn’t curse like a sailor when the mood strikes her.
“I know, Ma. I think you remind me of that every day. But just so you know, this crazy idea of yours isn’t going to work. I don’t want or need a wife yet. I have plenty of time left for that.”
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? All I’m doing is trying to get you ready for the party, nothing else,” she says, giving me a saccharine sweet smile filled with pretend innocence.
Nothing, my ass!
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ve known you my whole life, so don’t think I’m not aware of all your tricks.” I huff as I log off and shut down my computer.
She’s quiet, and when I look back up at her, she’s looking at me with tears in her eyes. Shit! If Dad hears that I made her cry, he’d more than likely stab me for it. Yep, those two are fucking crazy on a good day.
“So, you don’t want to give me a daughter-in-law or grandbabies?” She sniffles with some fake-as-fuck tears. Letting out a groan, I walk over to her and pull her into my arms while giving her a kiss on top of her head.
“They’ll be here when the time is right, Ma. Stop being a pain in the ass! It’s going to happen when it’s supposed to and not a moment before. I love you. Now, quit it with the fake tears and stop trying to play matchmaker,” I tell her playfully, as she pouts. “Who’s pouting now?” I joke.
“Oh, okay. If you insist on waiting until I’m old and gray, who am I to stop you? It’s not like I’m your mother who just wants the best for you or anything.”
This fucking lady!
“Ma!”
“Okay. Okay. By the way, did you invite the girl you were with, in your office earlier to the party? I mean, why don't you at least take her out or something? I don’t know who the hell raised you to act like you lack any sort of proper upbringing,” she mutters, her fake tears forgotten already.
How the hell does this lady move from one subject to the next so quickly?
“Ma! How the hell do you even know about that? I’m going to kill your husband!”
“You leave your father alone. He wasn’t the one who told me, which he’s going to pay for later,” she mutters. I roll my eyes at her, making sure she doesn’t see, as we make our way out of my office.
Ugh! That means one of her damn spies in my office must have said shit to her.
I’m gonna shoot somebody in here sooner or later for going behind my back.
Everyone in the office is acting busy as we pass by and head for the elevator.
I should fire her damn mole, her friend Beatrice.
But then again, it’s not worth the hassle when it comes to Ma and her spies.
When we pull up to the house and head inside, there’s a flurry of activity everywhere I look.
The whole place is filled with people doing last-minute shit to make sure everything goes smoothly later.
The party starts at eight, so they have a little while left, and since Ma is a perfectionist, I’m sure they’ve all been working double time since this morning.
I usually hate these parties because the attendees leave much to be desired.
It’s just other assholes in the Mafia—the rich and crooked pieces of shit who pretend they’re on the up and up to the public, and seedy politicians who’d sell their mothers just to be on top, though thankfully the flesh trade is not something our family would ever take part in.
Then there are the socialites and Mafia princesses, most of whom are just looking for a rich bastard to snag as their husband.
The rich assholes and the politicians may not like that we’re around, but they have no qualms about trying to get a piece of the pie where our money is concerned. Whoever said that crime doesn’t pay clearly wasn’t doing it right.
It’s supposed to be about making connections yada yada yada, but I don’t care about any of that shit.
My reputation precedes me, so I don’t have to bother with all the unnecessary fanfare.
All I really care about is doing what I need to do with the businesses, not this damn pony show.
I have a reputation for being ruthless, and with that, my place in the underworld has been cemented.
But it’s always a fight to keep it because someone is always looking to prove themselves by trying to steal everything from you.
However, Ma lives for these damn parties, and whatever her little heart desires, Dad always makes sure he gets it for her.
No one has ever tried anything at any of our parties, though, because we always keep this place secured with lots of extra soldiers posted throughout the house and the perimeter.
I didn’t think anyone would be desperate enough to attack a party, but that shit happened maybe about a month or so ago, if I’m remembering correctly.
Someone attacked the Bellucci compound, and their heir, Luca, has been missing or dead since.
We’re being extra cautious about this party, since it's too late to cancel and Ma didn’t want to anyway.
I’m going, even if I don’t really want to, because she’d probably disown me if I missed it.
I think about sneaking out later, but then I figure I had better not rock the boat with my mother tonight.
This is her chance to shine and be the social butterfly host that she is, and I don’t want to take that away from her.
I might gripe at some of the shit she and my father get up to, but my overall goal is to always see them happy. If that means being paraded around like a piece of meat to the hungry socialites for a few hours, then that’s what I’ll do.