For the Famiglia: Intertwined fate

Meeting

I needed a drink... The sun had come up at some point I hadn't even noticed, I don't think I slept a moment after the afternoon seemed to linger on into the night. Dominica’s crying lingered in my head pleading to come home and then cursing my existence when I refused. She was an addict deeply rooted I don't know if she ever give it up our marriage was a f*****g nightmare. Usually, they were easy to manage in my day-to-day when having to deal with them but this was my wife, not some street guy. I knew some of the guys didn't give two shits about that though some of them were medicated as f**k walking around like zombies but I didn't want that s**t, I didn't want that s**t in my house.

“Marco?” one of the bartenders Jesse called out once I stepped out is the backroom but I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. No doubt I looked a mess dark hair usually kept back and slick was falling in my face “Marco?” he called again as I manoeuvred around behind the bar snatching up a bottle of gin.

“What?” I glanced up not bothering too much to give him my attention.

“You can't just--” he began but quickly shut up realising where this would be heading.

“Can't just?” I mocked him. I knew I could be an asshole I wasn't going to be apologetic about it. Where the f**k would I be if I played the nice guy huh?. “Better watch what you f*****g say yeah?” lack of sleep only made my mood worse, however. Santos was usually the one to snap at people, breaking heads was his go to and I usually left it to him. Jesse seemed to bite his lip but gave an understanding nod “The Arneti widow is coming by today” he called out before I headed back into the back room. Lola was merely another bar we had our hooks in and a good back room to deal with business so I tended to spend a lot of time there plus the people were always fine enough, and kept their mouths shut.

I was careless about the glass bottle in my hand tipping the liquid in the glass that had been sitting there since last night. I wasn't sure what remnants of drink sat sticky to the bottom of the glass but I didn't care as I mindlessly tossed back a shot, the strong flavour burnt my throat and warmed as it worked its way down my body. It was lucky I had family business today my Nonna would no doubt beat me with how I looked today even worse if she got a whiff of the liquor on my breath. I rubbed at my eyes attempting to wake myself perhaps a coffee was in order. No sooner had I had that thought than a knock came to the door. It was light and no doubt Catarina’s cousin “Come in” I unintentionally grumbled out. Only a second later the door opened, and a part of me felt like I had forgotten what Fia looked like there was a reason people called her a princess of New Orleans she was stunning.

“Marco...” I could hear the nervousness in her voice not that I could blame her after what she's been through.

“Drink?” I offered tapping the glass of the bottle beside me. I was surprised when a hint of amusement seemed to cross her face.

“No... I ah...” that's when I noticed her holding the tray with two coffees sitting in it. f**k could this girl read my mind or something though suspicion was quick to take over of course she wanted something from me it's how it worked right. My Nonna was probably the only woman I ever met who didn't act up to get what they wanted.

“Thanks” I tried to be polite as she put the tray down on the desk beside me. She was closer now I wasn't usually one to stare but with Fia there was a lot to stare at, she was something else.

“Santos said you would meet with me” her voice was soft but sure. You could tell she and Catarina were raised closely they had that similar educated, eloquent speech. Santos always said it was for snobby bitches but that was quick to change once he was married.

“Yeah...” one thing my eyes kept meeting was the bruises on her neck I could see the marks where the pressure of the grip had been “looks sore” I acknowledged finally speaking what was circling my mind.

She let out a humourless laugh almost like it was mocking me “I've had worse” she mumbled sitting down on one of the chairs in front of the desk.

“You don't want to go home then? My brother has told me you're pretty close to his wife I'm guessing since he's been pretty quick to support you” lifting the coffee cup from the cardboard from I twisted it in my grip for a moment as I continued “You don't want to go back to New Orleans? To your parents? I mean your husband died, you got no kids so....”

“You want me to be honest?” I couldn't help but smirk a little at her words. Granted I had forgotten her before but seeing her now she was always a quiet well-mannered woman but there was a challenger in there. Her face showed surprise at her own words “I... I'm sorry” she began to stammer over herself.

“Don't apologise” I insisted. I wasn't a good man I never would be but I had drawn a line of cruelty to women and children it was a line I wouldn't cross. Observing her closely I did wonder how honest she would be “I would rather you didn't lie to me” I certainly had enough of that in life.

“No, I don't want to go home. I had a good enough life in New Orleans but I'm here now and if I went there I would have to live with my parents again and go to social events again as they tried to find me another husband... I just...”

“Want your own life” I finished her sentence which seemed to surprise her but she nodded and spoke a meek “yes....”

Still taking her in making her squirm. She couldn't take my stare which wasn't surprising I was frankly glad she wasn't as mouthy as her cousin at least “alright” I respected her honestly and mild ambitious for a semblance of a normal life after all I knew her parents and they were indeed pushy pricks who no doubt would throw her back out. The more I stared the more I remembered her how her mother would parade her around Fia was gorgeous there was no doubt but her mother walked her around like a show dog waiting for a prize which was frankly appalling but not surprising “alright then, Fia” I gave a smile “I have a job for you...”