POSSESSED: MISS CIA AND THE MAFIA DON

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The bitterest rivalries are often between those who were once closest

EARL

I feel tired.

I haven’t rested or had a proper meal in a minute.

And now that I think about it, neither has Cameron.

Scowling to myself I make my way to the kitchen.

I find her exactly where I knew she would be and as always she sees me first.

“Buonasera Tesoro.” She murmurs,taking her dish cloth off her shoulders and opening her arms.

“Buonasera Cara” I respond, bending down and allowing the plump housekeeper who practically raised me to kiss my cheek.

She smells like butter and flour like she always does.

The day I turned fifteen I tried to tell her I was too old for her to keep kissing me and calling me Tesoro and in response Cara had whipped her wash cloth across the back of my head and waved her finger in my face.

“You never tell me you’re too old to be loved Tesoro, you and your big headed brother better remember that.”

I don’t recall the exact day Cara came to work for my father.

But one day my mother was gone and Cara was there.

And when I came back home after disappearing for ten years, she was the only one, with her bright blue wash cloth across her shoulders and her gray hair styled in a neat bun at the back of her head, who made it feel like maybe I had never left.

The other maids around the kitchen mumble greetings, bowing slightly and stepping out of my way.

I have been back for three years but I still don’t recognize quite a number of them. And those I do recognize do not know me enough to stop being scared of me.

“You looked exhausted Tesoro.” Caro murmurs, cupping my face in her palms.

I grunt non-comitantly and move away from her reach.

“Cara, there’s a woman in my room.”

“Oh Santa Maria not again” Cara exclaims, shaking her head and repositioning her cloth across her shoulders.

“No, no it’s not like that” I start, rushing to explain before realizing I really don’t have to explain anything.

I clear my throat and straighten. “Just, go to her and make sure she’s okay. Please.?” I add when she gores at me.

Caro narrows her eyes at me. “What have you done Tesoro?”

“Nothing!” I say a little too defensively, lifting my arms and shoulders and Cara grunts in quiet disbelief.

“Who is this girl?” She asks. “You’ve never asked me to take care of any of them before.”

I don’t respond.

I just look past her to the wide floor to ceiling glass doors at the end of the kitchen that will lead out into the garden and to my father and brother.

I feel Cara waddle up to me, her head barely past my midsection.

“He’s not in a very good mood today Tesoro.”

The scoff escapes me before I can stop myself.

I can count the number of good moods my father has had on one hand and I would still have fingers left over.

I glance down at her and the worried expression on her face.

“Just take care of her, will you?”

Cara nods, tapping my shoulder lightly and moving away.

I walk towards the doors, calling out to her over my shoulder.

“Oh and she might try to resist you, don’t let her. She’s kind of stubborn.”

“Ah.” Cara scoffs loudly, wiping at a stain on the kitchen island. “You mean like you?”

“Ha ha Cara.”

I step onto the cobblestone path that begins from the door of the kitchen and winds around the massive garden where my father loves more than his children.

A few gardeners call out greetings as I walk past and I nod half heartedly at them.

The soft rustle of leaves and chirping birds fill the air as I approach my father.

Salvatore Morello has always been a big fearsome man.

Standing at over six feet tall and with the build of a wrestler and the rough gravelly voice of a smoker who loves to shout.

When I left the day after I turned eighteen, he had still been that way. Bigger and larger than life.

Now he sits on a bench, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his hair more grey than brown and his shoulders more hunched than straight.

I can feel my heart racing with anticipation.

I am not afraid of my father. Not anymore.

But Salvatore Morello’s wrath is still not something to be trifled with.

If I do not tread carefully, one wrong word and Cameron could be in real danger.

But I have never been one to shy away from a challenge and this conversation is definitely going to be just that .

The serene gazebo with its white column pillars wrapped in creeping ivy and jasmine is surrounded by lush greenery and vibrant flowers that do nothing to elevate the frown on my father’s face.

My brother, Nikolas, stands by the railing, his arms crossed, a scowl etched on his face.

My uncle, Marco, sits in the corner, his eyes fixed on me, a subtle nod of approval on his face.

“Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence Earl.” My father says without looking at me.

There’s a potted plant on the slab in front of him and he snips carefully at it, handling it with more gentle care than he has ever bothered to show any of us.

"Father, I need to speak with you about something important," I say, clearing my throat and allowing my voice to carry across the peaceful atmosphere.

“You came late.” Nikolas starts to say but my uncle shoots him a look and he falls silent.

My father snips at a dead leaf, still not bothering to look up at me.

"Speak. And make it quick, we don’t have all day.”

He actually does in fact have all day seeing as most of the operations are being run by Nikolas and I.

But my father has always been a difficult man.

I am convinced that when he dies, his body will refuse to fit in his coffin no matter how big the thing is, just to make us suffer.

Choosing my words carefully, I clasp my hands behind my back and take a deep breath.

"I'm getting married, Father."

My father's hand freeze mid snip, his shears hovering over the dying plant. Then slowly he turns his gaze to me, his face unreadable.

Nikolas snorts, his expression disdainful. "Oh, this should be good.

Ignoring him I continue, all my attention fixed on my father, my chin lifted slightly. "Her name is Cameron.”

My father’s wrinkled face nearly turns red with rage but his voice remains level.

“What did you just say?”

I roll back my shoulders. “I said I am getting married and her name is Cameron.”

The sound of a fountain in the distance creates a soothing background hum.

You wouldn’t even know how close to a bomb I have just thrown in the silence.

Nikolas steps forward, his eyes flashing with anger. "You can't be serious, Earl. You're not even thinking about the family's reputation."

“You be quiet Nikolas.” My uncle snaps at him and Nikolas turns stubbornly to my father, his eyes flashing with disapproval.

“You can’t let him do this.” He turns to me again. "You can't just marry some stranger, Earl,"

His voice is laced so heavily with disapproval, it is dripping from every word. "What about family loyalty? What about our traditions?"

I stand firm, my voice steady. "This marriage will secure our family's future, Nikolas. It's a strategic move, one that will solidify my position and ensure our family's power for generations to come. Also, it is none of your f*****g business.”

My brother takes a step towards me just as my uncle rises to his feet. “Both of you will stop this foolishness right now or you will both leave.”

Nikolas turns away fuming.

My father leans forward, his eyes intense.

I can swear that he looks almost pleased at my brother and I fighting.

The jerk.

“You're a Mafia prince, Earl.” He finally says, his voice rising with each word. “You'll marry who I say you'll marry, not some nobody. Send her away.”

Nikolas nods in agreement. "Yeah, Earl, you're being reckless and irresponsible as usual. Father's right, you need to think about the family's interests."

I take a step forward, my voice firm, my hand in fists by my side. "I understand your concerns, Father, Nikolas, but I'm not a child anymore. I make my own decisions, and I've chosen Cameron. I hope you can find it in your heart to accept her."

My father’s eyes narrow, his voice dripping with venom. "Accept her?! You'll be lucky if I don't kill her!”

And there it is.

I feel my jaw tick but I keep my voice as flat as possible.

Then I drop the one line that could shatter this before it even begins.

“I walked away once before father, I can do it again.”

“I told you!” Nikolas yells at my father and uncle, throwing his hand in the air and whirling around to glare at me. “You’re a f*****g bastard you know that?”

I ignore him.

My father gazes at me, his once clear brown eyes now a cloudy shade of mud buried in the wrinkling folds of his face.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He says softly, his voice dark with warning.

I don’t respond. I simply look at him.

He knows I would. He knows I really really would.

Salvatore Mallore turns his attention from me and snips at his plant once more.

“And what makes you think this Cameron is worthy of our family's name?"

Nikolas scoffs so loudly I swear he is one step away from choking on his rage.

“Father you are not actually considering allowing this are you?” he says, shaking his head, arms akimbo.

My father finally turns to my brother, pointing his shears at him. “Control yourself Nikolas or leave my presence.”

Throwing his hands in the air, Nikolas gives up and rests against the railing once more.

I turn my attention to my father, my gaze steady. "I've done my research, Father. She's intelligent, resourceful, and comes from a family that shares our values. This marriage will be beneficial to us, I assure you."

Uncle Marco nods slightly, his eyes still fixed on me, a silent show of support.

Nikolas scowls, but my father nods, a calculating glint in his eye. "Very well, Earl. I'll consider it. But know this: if this marriage fails, or if Cameron proves unworthy, you'll answer to me.” He looks away. “Now leave me. All of you. You give me a headache.”

Uncle Marco stands up first, his movements quiet, and places a hand on my shoulder, a subtle gesture of approval and support.

Nikolas catches up to me as we leave. “You're making a huge mistake, Earl. A huge mistake."

I don’t stop walking. “It’s already done Nick. Get over it.”

But if Nikolas is anything, it is relentless.

“Who even is she?” He asks.

“None of your business.” I respond without glancing back.

He scowls at my back. “I don’t trust her and I don’t trust you and you know I’m going to find out.”

At this I whirl around so fast he is forced to step back.

My face is all up in his and my voice hard. “Back. off.”

At this Nikolas’ eyes narrow and a slow smirk stretches across his face. “Oh soft spot. What do you think I’ll find? Think it’ll be enough for Father to ask me to make her walk the bridge?”

Walking the bridge. A mafia slang for death.

A surge of protectiveness washes over me so suddenly that I can feel my palms starting to itch in anger.

I step up to him until the tips of our shoes are touching.

I can feel my chest rising and falling.

“Don’t test me Nikolas. By god don’t test me. You go one inch close to her and I swear…”

“Oh please” My brother snaps. “Don’t even bother acting like you care about this broad. We both know you’re only doing this to get the seat of Don.”

“Just like you sent Frank back here to his death just so you could stop me attending the meeting with the Castellano family?” I retort scoffing.

His jaw ticks and I smirk at him, leaning backwards and sliding my hands into my pocket.

“Yes Nick. I know all about that. What did you think? That I wouldn’t find out. Thirsty five percent was it? How did father take that?”

Nikolas steps closer, his eyes cold. "Earl, you're going to regret this. Mark my words."

“Brother or not, you forget who I am, Nikolas.” I spit through clenched teeth.

Nikolas sneers at me. “And you dear brother have no idea who I have become.”

“I’m done with this.” I say turning around to leave.

“Make no mistake about it Earl,” Nikolas calls out to me, his voice echoing across the space. “I will find out who this precious wife of yours is Earl and when I do, you will wish to god that you had never dragged her into this. Mark my words.”