His Mafia Queen

Father and Son

GABRIEL

Tonight is the night.

The night that could make or break me and Riley. It's the night that she's meeting my father for the first time.

"Che cazzo, Gabriel. Can't you stop pacing?" My father's sitting on one of the terrace chairs, watching me pace from the bar to the pool. He takes a sip of his Scotch.

I shoot him a look. Ever since he was released from prison, it seems like my father's let all of his worst impulses come out.

Irritability. Snark. Meanness.

Then again, if I'd been in prison that long, I'd probably be pretty pissed, too.

I walk over to him and sink onto a nearby chair. "I want this to go well."

"Everything's going to be fine. I'm sure I'll like her. And I promise. I'll be on my best behavior."

Dad winks at me. I return the expression with a steely glare.

"I'm not going to tell her," he says. "Why would I want to tell her that I took the fall for a murder you committed? What purpose does that serve? I don't want people knowing it, either. But I can't soothe your guilty conscience."

"I don't feel guilty about the murder." I roll my eyes. Sad, but true. It was a routine mafia hit, a piece of shit who betrayed our family. Had I not done it, my father would've gladly offed the guy. "I don't want Riley to find out."

Dad scratches his chin. "Aren't the two of you all modern, striving for honesty and all that shit?"

I sneer at my father. "And what if we are?"

"I'd say you shouldn't keep secrets, in that case. But it's none of my business. Don't worry, son. I'll be a good boy tonight. I'll play the doting, if not slightly menacing, mafia boss father."

He snorts and drains his drink, swallowing with a satisfied smack. "Although I do wish whatshername could've joined us."

"If you can't even remember the name of the woman you're screwing, she doesn't need to be here tonight." I rise and go to the bar.

I pour myself a generous glass of Brunello, a potent red wine that's doing little to calm my nerves. My father has always been difficult, even when I was a boy. Growing up as the only son of a prominent mafia boss means I'm constantly striving for perfection and living under crushing expectations. I can never seem to earn my father's praise or affection.

My sister had it easier. Dad always doted on Mia. As tender as he was to her, he was equally brutal to me. This increased once Mom left him.

Now that he's been released from prison, tensions between us have resurfaced. I want his blessing for my relationship with Riley, but I know the old man will be impossible to please.

"Another glass over here," he demands, shaking the ice cubes rudely. I bite back an irritated sigh and refill his Scotch.

"You know, you haven't once congratulated me on my engagement," I say as I hand him the drink.

He snorts derisively. "Congrats on bagging a pretty little reporter. I'm sure she'll fit right in with the family business."

I clench my jaw at the sarcasm dripping from his words. "I'm eventually going legit, remember? Riley has nothing to do with the old ways."

"Ha! Once a Greco, always a Greco," he scoffs. "You can pretend all you want, but you were born into this life same as me. It's in your veins, figlio mio. And you can't wash the stain of blood off your hands. That shit stays with you always."