Page 6 of Fatal Sloth

Still half-asleep, I muster a lousy excuse. "I was up late, overseeing some business matters. Just taking the morning off for a little R&R," I mumble, hoping to avoid a lecture.

But Dad's not buying it, his dark brown eyes boring into mine with disbelief. "Work? This is what you call work?" he scoffs, nodding towards the woman still sleeping beside me. "Does work involve partying till the early hours and bringing home random women?"

Did he really have to put it like that? And yeah, she did help me relax.

This isn't home. I mean, sure, I own the place, but it's not where I belong. It's just a townhouse I keep in the city, close to Diavolo, so I crash here from time to time. It's where I bring women, so they don't know where I really live.

I glance at the woman beside me and give her a nudge. "Time to go," I mutter. She blinks, still half-asleep, but she knows better than to argue. With a sigh, she gathers her clothes and slips out of bed, making a hasty exit.

Fuck, I didn't even catch her name. But hey, it's not like I really care.

Dad's voice cuts through the air, pulling me back from my thoughts. "And relaxing? You call this relaxing?" His words hit like a punch to the gut. "Wasting your life away in nightclubs and staying in bed till the afternoon? You're a Morelli, not some purposeless stunad!"

Pacing like a caged predator in front of my bed, the tension in the room thickens with every step he takes. His disappointment only escalates in what he perceives as a lack of direction in life. My laid-back attitude has turned our relationship into a minefield.

The gravity of the family title bears down on him, evident in the furrow of his brow and the set of his jaw. He's relentless, constantly pushing me to step up and prove myself. He wants me to dive headfirst into the family business, legal and illegal alike. But the thought of all that responsibility makes my skin crawl. He argues that if I don't get my act together, I’ll end up like Uncle Gino or my mother—six feet under.

And while the big bad Don Antonio can manage anything, I don't think he can handle losing another person so close to him. His fear that my current lazy behavior will get me killed and his passing the title to me will only put a target on my back. Dad claims I'll never be successful if I continue on this path, let alone live through the first year if I don’t get it together.

It's not like I'm doing nothing. I handle more than he gives me credit for. But that doesn't seem to matter to him. The pressure to live up to our family's legacy is suffocating. I know I've got what it takes if he'd give me the chance to prove it.

Dad leans in, his voice growing louder, more forceful. "This can't go on, Sebastiano!" He storms toward the door, but not before throwing one last grenade my way. “You're the heir to this empire, not a nightclub regular! You've got responsibilities to la famiglia, dammit, and if you can't handle them, I know who can."

Exhaling harshly, "I've got everything under control, Dad." It's a promise I'm not sure I can keep, but I'll be damned if I don't try. “I’ll get up early and do whatever you need me to do. Starting tomorrow…”

"Tomorrow, Elli Enterprises, 8:00 a.m.," Dad says, his tone more of a command than a question.

Elli Enterprises is not only named after my late mother, Ellianna, but it was her brainchild. She was nothing less than a computer genius, her skills stretching far within the digital world, and with the foundation she built, it's now one of the largest IT companies in the Midwest. She taught me everything she knew. And I was pretty good at it, but after she died, I couldn't bring myself to the computer to code.

"I'll be there," I respond, trying to inject some conviction into my voice despite the lingering traces of sleep. Dad knows getting me downtown by 8 a.m. is damn near impossible, but I'll prove him wrong.

Still not sure what is so important that I need to be there so damn early.

Dad seems unconvinced but nods, leaving the room with a heavy sigh, leaving me with his final thoughts replaying in my mind.

The family business is your responsibility, Sebastiano. It's time you start taking it seriously. You're the heir to this empire!

I sink back into my pillows, a headache already forming from his never-ending expectations.

Tomorrow should be fucking interesting.

5

Sebastiano

The clock on my dashboard taunts me as I pull up to the imposing Elli Enterprises high-rise, its sleek glass facade reflecting the morning sun. 8:27 a.m. flashes in red numerals.

Meh, close enough.

I step out of the car, straightening my blazer against the chilly morning breeze, and stride toward the entrance.

Inside, the lobby's all polished marble and chrome, like some fancy fucking palace. The sleek elevator doors stand directly to the left of the main entrance. Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" plays from the elevator speakers as I step inside. Mom loved Elton John, so it’s no surprise they're playing him here. This whole place is a tribute to her memory.

The elevator ride feels like an eternity as I reach the 27th floor. When the doors slide open, I step out with determined strides, walking down the fancy-ass halls toward the heart of Elli Enterprises.

The glass door ahead bears the prestigious nameplate, the golden letters shining like they own the damn place. Taking a moment to compose myself, I exhale and push open the door, stepping into my father’s powerhouse.

"Is Antonio in?" I ask Cindy, though I already know the answer.

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