Chapter19
Dean Pov~
The two guys turned to look at us before smirking at each other. The one with curly black hair even chuckled at the sight of us standing in fighting stances. I was thirteen, and Michel was only ten, but that didn't mean we couldn't defend ourselves against two idiots.
My dad once told us that our size was an advantage. People would underestimate our skills based on how we looked. I guessed that was exactly what was happening right now.
Michel stood a little straighter, one hand tucked behind his back and his face carefully blank, mimicking his father perfectly. Their laughter died down, though amused smiles still lingered on their faces, as if they found this whole situation hilarious.
"I don't know why you find this funny," Michel said, his voice loud and clear. "Don't you guys have mothers? Sisters? What if that were one of them being cornered? How would you feel?"
Their smiles faltered just enough for me to notice, and I couldn't help smiling to myself. Small victory.
"You aren't supposed to be here," the bigger one said, motioning for us to leave. "I suggest you kids go before you get yourselves into more trouble."
I scoffed.
"You've been following us around all day. I'm pretty sure our brothers have one of your men, and yet you're here instead of looking for him yourselves. Whatever happened to living by a code? Brotherhood and all that?"
They seemed to be losing their patience as they each took a step toward us, but neither Michel nor I backed down.
A couple of people walked through the alley, using it as a shortcut to the next street. They eyed us suspiciously before continuing on their way, while none of us took our eyes off one another. We simply stood there, glaring as we waited to see who would make the first move.
"For kids, you've got some serious balls," the curly-haired one said to the big guy beside him with a smirk, his thick accent making the words sound almost playful. "Aren't Americans supposed to be wimpy?"
I raised an eyebrow, growing more annoyed by the second. They didn't seem interested in fighting. If anything, they seemed more interested in arguing with us.
"We're going to leave now," Michel said with a smug smile. "You two idiots have a wonderful day. And if you're going to keep following us, you might as well walk beside us. We already know you're there."
He turned and headed back the way we'd come. I followed right behind him.
Once we reached the main street, we wandered into a few more shops. Sure enough, the two idiots stayed close, trailing us while pretending not to, keeping an eye on us for reasons neither of us could figure out.
AJ Pov~
"Wanna try again?" Marcio spat at the man's face as he loomed over him.
The man was tied tightly to the chair, his expression filled with pure hatred. Blood seeped from the open wound we had just inflicted, but even through the pain, his eyes remained full of defiance.
I clicked my tongue and stepped closer. I grabbed the handle of the knife and pushed it deeper into his leg. "I think he needs a little more motivation," I said with a smirk.
The man's scream echoed through the room as pain ripped through him. The veins in his face and neck became visible as his skin turned red from the strain.
"I can't answer your questions because I KNOW NOTHING!" he screamed.
I glanced over at Marcio. He let out a frustrated sigh, punching the wall beside him.
I straightened and walked over to him on the opposite side of the room.
"We've been doing this for hours," he hissed, his anger barely contained. "He doesn't know anything, AJ."
I ran a frustrated hand through my hair. He was right, and that only pissed me off more. A low growl escaped my throat as I turned back toward the man. I grabbed his cellphone from the table and looked through the recent calls.
The last number dialed caught my attention. I pressed call. It picked up after the first ring.
"Domenico, dove sei?" the man shouted through the phone. (Translation: Dominic, where are you?)
I held the phone to my ear, my voice calm and almost bored.
"è un po' legato al momento, ma puoi trovarlo a questo indirizzo GPS.
Oh, e ti consiglio di arrivare velocemente.
Ha perso molto sangue. Potrebbe morire presto.
" (Translation: He's a little tied up at the moment, but you can find him at this GPS location.
Oh, and I suggest you get here quickly. He's lost a lot of blood. He might die soon.)
I hung up and placed the phone on the table beside the tied-up man.
Then I turned and walked toward the exit with Marcio. "Wait!" the man shouted behind us. "I know your face! I will find your name, and my boss and I will come after you!"
I stopped. Slowly, I turned around, my expression becoming cold and unreadable. I pointed at him. "No need to find out."
A smirk tugged at my lips. "My name is AJ Basilio. This is Marcio Basilio."
I held his gaze. "We'll be waiting." I gave him one last look before walking out of the building.
We made our way back toward the street with the shops, but I could feel Marcio's glare burning into the side of my head the entire time.
It was starting to piss me off. "What?" I snapped, turning toward him.
He shook his head before punching me in the arm.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I whispered harshly, trying not to draw attention from the people around us. The only thing stopping me from hitting him back was the fact that we were surrounded by civilians.
"We're supposed to be finding answers and resolving conflicts," he shot back. "Not creating new ones."
I rolled my eyes. "That man and whoever his boss is won't be able to match us. Don't worry about them." I continued walking, not slowing down.
Marcio fell into step beside me and sighed. "Okay," he said. "But when shit goes down, I'm blaming you."
I smirked. "Fair enough."
Adriano Pov~
We made it back to the house, and I had Giovanni guarding Kale in the basement. I was in my office with Damien and Raf, going over everything that happened.
Ales was upstairs sleeping off the events of the day, with the twins, Kaia and Kalani, standing guard beside her. They insisted on it.
"I don't know how we managed to miss him," Damien said, letting out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand over his face. "It was like he blended into the crowd. I don't even remember seeing him."
He shook his head.
"Raf and I were guarding Ales, the twins, and some of the younger kids. Leo was watching the other kids and our mothers."
Damien leaned back in his chair, exhaustion written all over his face.
Raf, however, had been quiet the entire time. Too quiet. He looked like his mind was somewhere else, and I knew something was bothering him.
"Alright, we'll talk about everything else later," I said. "We have him now, and that's what matters. We’ll handle the details soon."
I looked toward Damien. "Can you give me a minute alone with Raf?"
He nodded without question, standing from his chair before walking out of my office and closing the door behind him.
My attention shifted back to my nephew. Rafael never looked up. I sat straighter, leaning forward with my hands resting on the desk.
"Something bothering you?" Silence. My eyes narrowed slightly. "Am I speaking to myself?" The words came out sharper than I intended, but old habits were difficult to break.
His head immediately lifted, his eyes meeting mine. They were blank, emotionless.
"No, sir," he replied.
My eyebrows furrowed. Raf had never been this formal with me. He wasn't speaking to me like family. He was speaking to me like one of my soldiers. And strangely enough, I didn't like it.
"What's bothering you, Rafael?" I asked again. This time, he held my gaze. Slowly, the emotions began to break through. Disgust and guilt. And something else I couldn't quite place.
"I don't know if I can do this," he said.
My expression remained steady. "Do what?"
His jaw tightened. "Be in the Mafia." The fire returned to his eyes. "I can't do it."
I studied him carefully. "Rafaele-"
"No," he interrupted, shaking his head. "I know everyone expects me to be able to handle this. I know you believe we can do this without feeling anything."
His voice grew louder, the frustration he had been holding back finally spilling out. "But I'm not like that."
He stood from his chair, running a hand through his hair. "I have a conscience. And for some reason, unlike everyone else in this house, I actually choose to listen to it."
His breathing became heavier. "Like a normal person."
He looked at me, his eyes filled with conflict.
"We can't keep telling ourselves that what we do is for the greater good when we're taking people away from their families. When we're hurting people who have someone waiting for them to come home."
His voice cracked slightly, but he continued. "What if someone came after you? What if someone took your Queen? Your children? Your parents?"
The question hung between us. "I can't be a part of that." The room fell silent.
Raf leaned back against the chair, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself. His eyes moved around the room, unable to settle anywhere.
For the first time, I wasn't looking at my nephew. I was looking at someone who was questioning everything I had built my life around.
I leaned back in my chair, studying the distraught young man standing in front of me. He looked like he was moments away from breaking.
Or maybe he already had.
I had never dealt with this before. Most of the men I trained were hard-headed. They embraced this life. They understood the risks, the sacrifices, and the violence that came with it. Some of them even enjoyed it.
Raf was different.
He had always lived through his heart. He wore every emotion openly, and in this business, that was dangerous. This brotherhood had a way of testing people. It had a way of breaking even the strongest among us.
"Raf, I'm not going to force you to stay or be a part of this brotherhood," I said softly.
His eyes lifted toward mine.
I sighed, continuing. "But I have to ask you one thing." I leaned forward slightly. "Are you scared?"
He remained silent. But eventually, his eyes met mine, and I saw the answer before he even spoke.
He was scared. Terrified. "Not of what you think," he replied quietly.
"Then what?"
His jaw tightened. "My father was Roman Alexeev." The name alone carried enough hatred to fill the room. "His blood runs through my veins every single day. Every day, I have to fight that feeling inside me."
His voice lowered. "The feeling of enjoying the pain I cause. The satisfaction it brings." He shook his head. "I never want to become like him."
Every word carried fear, but also determination. Two opposite emotions that somehow existed together.
I understood that battle more than he realized. "Raf, you may have the blood of that fucking man running through you," I said firmly. "But you also have Basilio blood running through your veins."
I leaned forward. "And every single day, it overpowers his."
His brows furrowed slightly.
"I see it with my own eyes. You wake up every morning and choose to be better. You are willing to face every challenge I put in front of you. You take care of your mother and your cousins like it is your responsibility as the firstborn in this family."
I paused. "You are one of the most loyal and strongest people I have ever met."
His expression softened slightly.
"You cannot allow your fear of Roman to stop you from doing something you want. Because if you do, then you are allowing him to win."
My voice hardened. "He will control your life from beyond the grave I buried him in." I shook my head. "You're smarter than that."
Every word I spoke was the truth. I needed him to understand how important he was. How much he mattered.
"I almost lost control today," he admitted quietly.
My attention shifted back to him.
"When I saw that bastard dragging Ales away..." His hands clenched. "If Damien hadn't stopped me, he probably would've been dead."
I nodded slowly. "You did what you had to do." He looked at me. "It will take time to learn how to control the beast inside you," I continued. "But I will teach you."
I stood from my chair and walked around the desk. "You never have to fight this alone." For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he gave me a small smile. "Thanks, Unc." He stood, and I pulled him into a hug. Not as a boss. Not as the Capo di Capi. As his uncle. A reminder that this was what family meant.
We were a brotherhood. We protected each other. We carried each other's burdens and fought each other's demons.
When I pulled away, I wrapped my arm around his neck and guided him toward the door.
"Come on. Let's go scare the shit out of the bastard in the basement." A small smile appeared on his face as he shook his head. I couldn't help but smile back. I never wanted any of them to feel this way.
It was my responsibility to guide them. To teach them how to survive this life without losing themselves in it.
Because if you didn't learn how to handle the darkness...
Eventually, the darkness would turn you into the monsters you swore you would never become. And I refused to let that happen to my family.