Saving the Mafia Princess

That's fair

Colin's POV

Leo wasn't lying. Nonna needed all kinds of help. "Nonna, I have a school project at school on family ancestry. Do you think you could help me out with that?", I asked, as I cut chives out of the garden. "Absolutely", she answered excitedly. "How about while I am cooking dinner you can write down the answers to the questions you have?", she suggested. "Sounds like a plan to me, Nonna", I chirped.

I am ecstatic to find out more about my family ancestry. I have never met either one of my grandfathers. I know that pa's father's name is Leonardo. That's how Leo got his name. But I don't know ma's father's name. I wonder if Nonna knows. "Hey Nonna?", I called out to her. "Yes?", she answered, looking up from the tomato plants.

"Do you know ma's father's name?", I asked curiously. From the look of shock on her face, I guess that she did. She just did not want to say, "That is something you will have to ask your mother, nipote (grandson)", she muttered, before clearing her throat. Hmm, that's suspicious, indeed. I wonder why she said that.

"I can only tell you about the Barello side of your family, my dear", Nonna spoke more clearly. "That's fair", I smiled, moving onto the cilantro. It is a staple in this house. Nonna uses it and oregano like butter, in every dish. "Nonna, what was pa like as a child?", I asked, looking over at her. She smiled broadly. "Oh, he was quite the character. He loved the gardens just like you, but he was always serious about his role as prince, just like Leonardo now", she smiled, as she reminisced about the good ol' days.

"But he was also rebellious, like your sister. It is beautiful to see a bit of him in each of you", she chuckled. That is quite beautiful when you think about it. "And what about Nonno (grandfather)? What was he like?", I questioned, wondering which of them pa took after most.

Nonna took a deep breath and sighed. "Your nonno was a bit cold to the rest of the world. He was strong and ruthless. But with his family, he was tender and loving. Your father is much like him. Strikingly so", she responded. "I don't ever know about my father being cold or ruthless", I said, confused.

My father is definitely kind, loving, tender, and extremely patient around us. "That is because you are his family, nipote (grandson)", she smirked. I frowned, as I continued to pick cilantro. I could never imagine father being ruthless or cold. Why would he need to be?

Nonna and I spent around an hour cutting herbs from her indoor garden before she concluded that we had enough. I sat with her in the kitchen while she sorted the herbs and cooked dinner. She told me all about our family. What part of Italy we are from, and how we even have royalty in our family.

Which I guess now makes since that they called mom and dad, queen and king. Maybe. She explained to me how my great-grandfather, four times, built this house with his bare hands. Which brings me a greater appreciation for this beautiful villa. I love spending time with my nonna because I get to learn new things.

By the time she finished talking, I had every ancestors name written down, just about. But I do have plenty for the family tree. Expect for on ma's side. I guess that whatever ma can't tell me, then grandma should be able to right? I guess I will find out. I set out to see if ma and pa had come home yet.

I went straight to their office, mainly because that is where you can usually find them. When I knocked on the door, I heard a shushing sound. "Come in", my mother's voice answered. I opened the door to see all of my uncles, my father and my mother huddled around my father's desk looking over a bunch of papers.

"What's the matter, honey?", my mom asked. I shook my head, "Nothing, I just came to ask you about your side of the family. Nonna already gave me the entire run down of the Barello side. Now I just need some information from your side", I answered her, holding out my notebook, with all of my notes in it.

"Oh honey. The only person momma knows from her side of the family is grandma. You would get better answers from her", my mother sighed heavily. I could see that she wished that she could help me, but she couldn't. "That's okay, ma. Do you know when grandma might be by again?", I asked, tilting my head to the side.

"I will text her and invite her to dinner. How does that sound?", she said, with a smile. I nodded excitedly, "Okay, I will leave you guys to it, then", I said, turning on my heel to leave the room. A trail of giggles following me. I went outside to the playground that our father built many years ago. I sat at the picnic table, and began building the family tree just as my nonna described to me.

"Hello, Colin", I heard my grandmother's voice. I turned with a smile on my face. "Grandma!", I said excitedly, as I jumped from my spot and ran to hug her. "I have so many questions for you", I said. Grandma chuckled, "I heard. Your mom said that you are looking into our family ancestry", she said. "I am. Ma said that you were the only one that she knew on her side of the family", I informed her.

"She didn't mention her father?", grandma asked confused. "Ma has a father?", I asked surprised. "Yes, everyone has a mother and a father, love", she answered me. "But, she has never mentioned one before", I noted out loud. "Hmm, well, we will get there soon enough. Let's start with my family", she suggested, as she lead me back over to the table.

We sat and chatted about grandma's parents, and grandparents. On grandma's side, we are irish, and native american. Cherokee to be exact. She told me how she had traced our lineage back to irish royalty. It was stunning to find out there was royalty on both sides of my family. "Grandma, what about grandpa? Ma's dad?", I asked curiously. It felt almost as if everyone was avoiding that.

"Well, your mom's father is actually still around. His name is Franky Vaughn", grandma answered. Franky Vaughn? I know that name. "The man old man locked in the dungeon? He is ma's father? My grandfather?", I mumbled on, confused and stocked. "Yes, that is your grandfather. I don't know why your mother hasn't told you that yet", she muttered, looking off into the distance.

"But, he killed my nonno. Correct?", I asked, stunned. Grandma nodded sadly. "Unforunately, he did", she answered. "Why didn't my father kill him then? I heard stories about Franky. He is a terrible man. I never understood why father never killed him", I explained. "Because he is your mother's father. And your father left the decision up to your mother", she answered calmly.

"Why? She didn't tell us that he was our grandfather. Then, why would she want him kept alive?", I asked, becoming a little frustrated. "Your mother was unsure of how to handle it. There was a lot of things that happened, that you don't understand yet", she said, patting my hand. "Come, dinner should be ready by now", she uttered, standing from the seat.

I have so many unanswered questions now. What am I to do with this new information? Do I ask my mother for the truth? Or should I ask my father, since my mother obviously has a habbit to lie to me? I just don't get it. Why would she never tell us?