ROSALINDA.
“You still don’t know who the father is?” Antonio asked again as he approached us, his eyes growing darker with each step he took.
"Uhm, he was adopted, and we..." Papà scratched his temple, looking confused as he tried to concoct a lie.
“Cut that.” Antonio groaned, shaking his head slightly. “I know that this boy right here is your grandson.”
“He’s not—” Papà tried to persist with his lies, but Antonio cut him off.
“And Rosalinda here,” he said, pointing his index finger at me. “Is the mother."
Why did he seem so sure? I wondered as I narrowed my eyes at him. How did he find out?
A thought came to my mind, but I shook it off. I knew Antonio was a Mafia boss, but I didn’t think he was cruel enough to torture innocent people just to feed his curiosity.
“Is that why you sa
