Page 4 of Mafia Daddy

There’s an anger in her eyes. And maybe it’s an anger laced with fear too. I might be young, and I know that people see me as some innocent party boy, but I’m a good judge of character. I can sense what people are feeling, and I know how to read a room too.

My mother is scared.

This so-called deal everyone has been talking about hinges on me going over to the Kovalev family. I can protest all I want, but that won’t change anything. And it might even be the case that if I protest too much, Uncle Paolo decides to do to me what he has done to so many others. The fact that I’m his dead brother’s daughter won’t stop him either. That’s not how my uncle operates.

“Fine,” I say, exhaling. “Just don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

“Good boy,” my mother says, a sweeping look of relief coming over her face as she steps close to me and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I know this is difficult. But this is the life we were born into. We cannot change that. All we can do is play the hand that we are dealt.”

I nod.

But inside, something is stirring. I barely know anything about Maxim Kovalev. I know he is the pakhan of his family. I know that they’re one of the biggest Russian families. And I know too that he’s some old dude in his forties.

Pffft.

Maybe I should have stayed in Harvard, finished my degree, and gone for that Masters too? If I was working in high finance now I don’t think this would be happening to me. In fact, I’m almost certain that it wouldn’t.

Fuck.

I’ve only got myself to blame.

However that doesn’t mean that I can’t use this situation to my advantage. Truces don’t last forever. Family politics can change at a second’s notice. From my position over on Maxim’s side, I might be able to pick up the kind of information that Uncle Paolo would love to know and then use against the Kovalev clan.

“What’s that look in your eyes for?” my mother asks, arching her eyebrow. “You know that this isn’t a game. This is serious. You are going to be Kovalev property now.”

“Right,” I answer, running my hand through my chestnut brown hair. “I know. I know. You can rely on me, mother.”

“Good!” my mother replies. “I’ll leave you to pack your things.”

I smile and watch as my mother turns and leaves my bedroom. She’s moving more like an older lady these days. For one so young, it’s like the death of my father aged her in ways that no one could have predicted. I know that she can be strict with me sometimes, and even come over as uncaring or cruel from time to time. But deep down she has my best interests at heart.

My mother is a survivor.

To live long in our world, you have no choice but to fight for your survival.

And I’m no different. If I want any kind of future for myself, I’m going to have to play my part in this deal. But if Maxim Kovalev thinks I’m going to be some kind of pushover, he’s got another thing coming.

I’ve got one day of freedom left, and I’m going to make the most of it…

“Woah, woah, woah, are you being serious?” Charles asks, his green eyes sparking with intrigue and a dose of shock too. “I mean, I knew you were from… that world… but this is crazy.”

“Hey, we weren’t all born with Senators as fathers,” I laugh, sipping on my milkshake.

“Stepfather, actually,” Charles replies. “But I get your point. So… will we still be able to hang out?”

“Yeah, for sure,” I reply. “I mean, nothing is changing that much. I’ll need to live with the Kovalev family. I’ll have their security detail on me, have to attend their events or whatever. I’m basically a little trophy. Or a trinket to show proof of the two families working together.”

“Jeez. Talk about old school,” Charles says. “But it’s not like that doesn’t happen in my world either. My stepfather is trying to set me up with a frickin’ Kennedy.”

We both take a moment and bust out laughing.

Life can be stranger than fiction sometimes.

I’ve known Charles ever since we met in the first week at Harvard. But while I dropped out, Charles went on to finish his degree and now works as a documentary maker. They’re not exactly the kind of films that I’d personally choose to watch, but there’s no doubting the fact that he’s got real talent—and works his ass off too.

“How will this side of your life work though?” Charles asks, looking around the diner before opening his backpack and nodding to his stuffy. “I mean… does this new guy know about the whole Little thing?”

I shrug my shoulders.