Chapter 5 Embarrassed

One week has passed since my mother's funeral, yet I still can't get over my loss. The feeling of losing her only grows stronger as the days pass to the point where even the sunniest day looks bleak. Ever since then, my father has been forcing me to eat, since I barely consume anything. Whenever he came into my room, he tried to start a conversation with me, yet I only ignored him. His lack of effort in saving my mother is unforgivable. His words only ring hollow, as if none of them truly mean anything to me. All his words are only empty apologies, an attempt to bring back my trust and receive my forgiveness and not because he regrets the death of my mother.

Despite my lack of appetite, I force myself to finish the blueberry waffles my father brought to me with a frown. When I was younger, my mother used to cook me waffles. One day, I told her that I liked her waffles. One thing led to another, and she started making waffles for me every day. At one point, my brothers finally got sick and tired of seeing me eating waffles every day, but my mother still made them anyway because I still haven't gotten bored with her waffles.

After two weeks, I finally got bored with eating waffles for breakfast every day. Once she discovered that I had a new favourite food, she always tried to make it every day, even though it took a while to cook. The cycle repeated itself whenever I told my mother I had a new favourite food.

These blueberry waffles I just finished remind me of my mother. Unfortunately, these waffles that our in-house chefs and cooks made are not as good as my mother's. Somehow, her waffles always taste so much crispier on the outside and soft on the inside. They also have this tinge of sweetness. However, these waffles are almost as tasteless as the gluten-free bread I got from a popular bakery in the city a year ago.

Now I've finished my breakfast, I lie on my bed again, still feeling too tired and unmotivated to do anything. The knock on my door wakes me up from my trance. The sound causes me to sigh in exasperation. That's probably my father. When is he going to give up on apologising? I'm sick of hearing his half-hearted apologies. Besides, I'm not the one he needs to ask forgiveness from. He should be apologising to my mother, who's already 6 feet under.

"Alessandra?"

Oh. It's Dante. Thank goodness. Why is he knocking at my door?

"What do you want?" I ask loudly, hoping it's audible enough for Dante, who's waiting outside the door as he always does.

"The maid's here to get the dirty dishes," Dante says.

Oh, right. The dishes.

With the dirty dishes in my hands, I go to the door and hand them to Mariana, one of the housemaids.

"Here they are. Thank you," I say. Mariana only smiles and nods before leaving quietly. I turn to Dante with a frown. I don't know why, but I suddenly burst into tears again right in front of him. This past week, I barely interacted with Dante. All I did was hand the dirty dishes to the maids and then go back to my room and cry in silence.

With my hands covering my face, I continue to let out my frustrated tears in front of Dante. A pair of hands reaches out to me and pulls me close to a solid surface. I let my tears fall over my face like a waterfall as I wrap my arms around Dante.

"It's okay. Let it all out," Dante says.

"How could they be so heartless? How could they do that to my mother?" I whisper.

"She didn't deserve it, but at least she's not in pain anymore, yes?" Dante says. His gentle rubs on my back soothe me a little as I continue to cry in his arms.

"I know. I still hate that she has to experience such a painful death. She didn't deserve it. She never did anything wrong," I say. No words leave Dante's lips. He's probably not sure how to respond to my rant. In silence, he keeps me close to him. His presence alone is enough to soothe me from my raging thoughts, and I'm grateful for that. Without him, I don't know who I can go to since my father is never an option.

My tears finally stop flowing. I sniffle as I let go of Dante, avoiding his gaze as embarrassment washes over me. The sight of snot coming out of my nose makes me grimace in disgust. I even left some on his shirt. Ugh, gross. I bet I look so ugly right now. Why did I even cry like that in front of Dante? I feel like I want to die from embarrassment. He shouldn't have seen me like this.

I wipe my face and nose with the sleeves of my shirt, still avoiding Dante's gaze like the plague.

"Uh, thank you for listening and comforting me. I'm going back into my room now," I say.

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Dante says.

"Okay."

I look up at Dante, and compared to my previous assumption, he doesn't seem grossed out at all. On the contrary, he's smiling at me softly. His gaze, full of reassurance, tells me that everything is going to be okay and that he's here for me. Even though he looks like he doesn't mind me getting snot all over his shirt, it's still embarrassing regardless.

Once the door is closed behind me, I hurry to the bathroom. Just as I expected, I look absolutely horrendous. The crying I've done the past week has truly taken its toll on me. I can't believe Dante looks that calm while staring at my bloodshot and puffy eyes.

Now I'm back in my bed, staring at the uninteresting ceiling. After letting the cool water wash over my face, I feel a bit refreshed, but still sorrowful nonetheless.

The death of my mother has affected me to the point where I don't have the motivation to do anything at all. Despite all the rage boiling inside of me towards the Romanos, I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. I mean, I'm just the daughter of a mafia leader, not a true mafioso. Despite all the things I've learned and known about this dark world, fighting the Romanos on my own is basically a death wish.

I need to get a fucking grip. There's no use in mourning for too long. It's better for me to do something else than keep drowning myself in endless sorrow, such as planning my revenge. How should I do it, though?

The library! There's a secret archive room there with tons of files on all the crime families we're dealing with, including the Romanos. That's it. I'm going to the library. To plan a good revenge, one must learn about the prey beforehand.

"Where are you going?" Dante asks with a tinge of worry in his voice.

"The library," I say as I continue walking towards the stairs.

As soon as I step into the enormous, high-ceilinged room, thousands of books come into view, and the scent of old paper greets me. Without wasting any more time, I head towards the back of the room, where the secret archive room is hidden. Behind tall shelves and countless books in front of me lies the secret room. Before unlocking the room, I turn to Dante, sending him a knowing look.

"Turn around," I say.

"Why?" Dante asks. The look on his face shows that he's genuinely curious.

"You're not supposed to know this room exists. I'm going into the room, so look away while I unlock it," I say.

"Alright."

Dante doesn't question me any further. Now that his back is facing me, I punch in the passcode, all while I keep my eyes on him to make sure he's not taking a peek. Once the digits are in, a soft beep resonates in the silent room, and one of the shelves in front of me goes ajar once the room is unlocked.

The door is kept slightly open once I step into the archive room, just enough to keep Dante outside in case he gets curious. Before me, shelves full of files await me. My focus is on the one and only Romanos family. It seems my father has a special section dedicated to the Romanos. Out of all the crime families' names I've seen in the room, most of the files belong to the Romanos. That explains why the Romanos has a special section. It might take a while to read everything, but let's see what my father has in here.

In the first file, a photo is attached at the top left. It's a picture of Alvaro Romano, the current leader of the Romano family. He's about my father's age, a bit older. He looks just like any old guy with greying dark brown hair. His beard is the same colour, a little on the thicker side. Enough with his appearance. Let's move on to the information about him.

Alvaro is the current leader of the Romano family. He has three sons, Aurelio, Vito, and Mauro, all of them involved in the family business. His wife, Paula, passed away six years ago due to natural causes, but the truth is, Alvaro abused her a lot after she tried to leave him. He beat, raped and drugged her just to make her regret her decision to leave him until her body couldn't take it anymore.

Alvaro rules the southern territory, bordering my family's central territory. My family rule the big part of central Italy, as well as almost half of the northern territory. Our central territory has better ports with a lower security level, and the north has closer access to other European countries. With our territory advantages, it's not surprising that the Romanos want to claim it.

The Romanos' business revolves around dealing heroin and cocaine, while my family produces and deals marijuana, cocaine, and amphetamine. Other than that, Alvaro also does sex trafficking, putting minors into prostitution by kidnapping them, trafficking them into Italy from various countries abroad, and then confining them in the brothels he owns.

The Romanos are absolute monsters. They will do anything to gain wealth and power. Based on what I've heard and the files I've skimmed through, Alvaro is a ruthless man. So much worse than my father has ever been. He has killed many, including my mother, not solely because they wronged him in a way, but because he likes it. He enjoys torturing people, whether his enemies, traitors, or even the girls he trafficked. Considering he runs brothels, it's not that shocking that he raped the girls, and when they're no use to him anymore, he discards them like trash.

Alvaro's sons, Aurelio, Vito, and Mauro, are no better than their father. They commit the same crime their father does. Partying seems to be one of the top priorities in their lives. The nightclubs they own are their go-to places for the endless parties they hold. Occasionally, they also throw parties on their family-owned yacht. The Romanos enjoy violence and nightlife, and as much as an addict loves drugs, they're hardly separable.

Just like how my father has been saying, the Romanos are insane. Now that I know how insane they can be, especially after what they did to my mother, I should approach them with caution. It wouldn't truly be a revenge if I ended up being dead by their filthy hands, would it? With that being said, I should plan my revenge carefully, or I'll end up drowning in acid before I get to fulfil my revenge.

"What are you doing in here?"

In the doorway, my father stands with his arms crossed. The way his eyebrows furrowed tells me that he doesn't want me to be here, at least not right now. I should speak the truth. I know he'll understand me.

"Nothing much. I'm just looking through the Romanos' files you have here. I'm tired of staying in my room, so getting to know our enemies a bit better sounds like a better option than drowning in grief," I say.

"I know you. You're planning something, aren't you? I won't stop you, but let me tell you this: don't do it. It's not worth it. Fighting them is like trying to beat a game master in his own game. You'll end up losing rather than winning. If you want to fight them the correct way, work with me. Working alone won't do you any good," my father says.

I know I won't stand a chance if I fight the Romanos by myself with my two hands. It would literally be one against four. I'll be badly outnumbered. As much as I hate my father now after what happened, my best option to end the Romanos is by working with him. So, I don't really have a choice other than tolerating my father's existence just so I can get my revenge. By me finally taking part in the family business will absolutely be a dream come true for him, but for me, all this is only a stepping stone, a way to avenge my mother's and brothers' deaths. A temporary problem for a permanent solution.

"Alright. I'll work with you," I say.

"Good. You don't have to follow me everywhere all the time, but if you want to tag along, just let me know about it," my father says.

"Okay."

This is it. I'm finally working with my father. Let's just hope he won't get on his high horse and start giving me insane tasks that will only get me even more involved in this business. Being too deep in the business is not my main goal. All I want is just to use the resources my father has and then leave for better or worse.