Page 65 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

I yelled at her, all but threw her out of the room as I fumed in rage. The glass I was drinking from ended up smashed against the wall, which then led me to drinking straight from the bottle. I didn’t pace myself like I would have if I’d been drinking from a glass, and that’s how I imbibed the whole thing.

I know I’m piss drunk right now. Not just in the way I feel, but because the demons have come out to play inside my head, and they also found their way down my body, tearing at my throat because I stopped shouting at the world that we need to find Bianca, slashing across my chest to leave a thousand cuts on my heart, letting me slowly bleed out. Exactly like all the light has drained from my existence since she went, slowly but surely, something I couldn’t stop no matter how much I tried.

Damn this new girl. She opened the floodgates of Hell inside me, and now, the devil’s having a laugh at my expense, my plight his entertainment as his army of minions rage a war of grief and truth all over me. I don’t like getting this drunk, because it forces me to look too clearly at my reality. The blindfold I usually keep over my eyes, too much alcohol dissolves it, and I can’t close my eyes anymore.

I stumble into the car waiting for me and wave at Pano, the driver. It’s my signal to just drive around. Being in motion on the deserted streets at this time of the night, it helps me breathe sometimes. Though today, I’m choking. Bringing the window down doesn’t help, the summer air balmy and wrapping like a cloak instead of whipping past in a refreshing manner. Even having the car go faster doesn’t alleviate this feeling.

“Fuck!” I scream.

It’s not the first time Pano has seen me this way inside his vehicle. He’s been with us since before I was born, and he’s one of the very few people I trust in my entourage now. Him and Mattia, though it strikes me I’m not doing a good job of showing this to these people, my best friend in particular.

Damn whiskey. It’s forcing me to look, and I have nowhere to hide. What I wouldn’t give to be one of those people who pass out stone-dead when inebriated. Me, I see everything in vivid technicolor under sharp, bright lights chasing all the shadows away.

My fists clench when I think of the past few weeks, ever since my father walked out of the family house for the last time, when he said goodbye to me. He left the reins of the family to me, and that includes everything from the people to our businesses to hisplace at the table of the syndicate. He trusted me with all these tasks, and look at me now, utterly failing him.

I’m not the Don he needed me to be. In this regard, Mattia’s right. My father never resorted to violence unless in very dire circumstances. Me? It’s my instinctual go-to. Look at how I killed Bruno earlier.

Mattia is right. Violence is not always the answer. I’m a Don now, and I need to think things through. I can’t be rash. I can’t let emotions get the better of me. And for this to happen, I need to stop drinking so much I end up drunk. That’s when the impulsive side of me rages forth, when the monster who fuels my blood overrides my mind. It’s the cold, calculated side of me that needs to prevail.

Mattia has figured this out a long time ago—I wasn’t listening. He’s the voice of reason cooling the fire in my blood at the same time he calls to the humanity still left in me when my rational brain takes control.

He knows this, doesn’t he? But then it dawns: how can he, when I’ve never told him as much? I have blood brothers, but Mattia is the person closest to me, more than a brother. We’ve been through thick and thin together. If I keep on the way I have these past few weeks, I run the risk of losing him, and I can’t let this happen.

“Pano, Lenox Hill. Mattia Bonucci’s place,” I direct to my driver.

We aren’t very far, and I’m still ruminating on all this when we stop in the driveway. I’m out in a flash. The doorbell makes a horrific sound that can wake up the dead, and I don’t want to disturb Hana who must be jet-lagged after her flight. So I throw myself on the door and start pounding it. Mattia’s a light sleeper—this should wake him up.

My fist has landed on the panel a few times already, and still no answer. I peek at the side. His car’s in the garage, so he must be home. Why isn’t he answering? I need to talk to him, dammit. I need to apologize for the way I’ve been behaving, as if he’s my lackey and not one of the most important people in my life. Dissatisfaction brews bad blood so easily, and if there’s one thing a Mafia man can’t have, it’s bad blood between him and the members of his family or his good friends. That’s like bringing a curse onto his whole clan, and there’s enough of that on mine already.

I need to mend the rift between me and my best friend right now. It can’t even wait for morning, because then, I’ll be sober, and I might think of my pride and ego too much with the blindfold back on again after the alcohol’s cleared my system.

Finally, there’s the sound of a lock turning. I step away from the door so it can open, and I cringe a little under the scathing glare my oldest friend bestows upon me from inside the house.

“What is it, Leo?” he asks, tone clipped.

I deserve this coldness, even the silent treatment. But I’m not letting bad blood settle between us. Not tonight, not ever.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

He glances back inside, then nods. But instead of opening the door further, he steps out on the stoop and closes it behind him.

I blink, and I know he sees my reaction under the harsh glare of the porch light. This panel closing and leaving me out, it feels like he’s closing off his world from me, excluding me fromhis family, from his turf. God, did I mess up this bad? I wasn’t paying much attention to him earlier in his car. What else did I miss?

Mattia’s face is harsh when I look at him. He’s drawn to his full height, which is still quite a few inches less than mine, arms crossed over his chest that he’s pushed forward, chin notched up. I know this stance, and it’s one of a man ready to fight not with his fists but with his attitude and persona.

On most days, I’ll lose in such a battle with Mattia, who is a brilliant strategist with a sharp mind. Give me fisticuffs any day, and I’m sure to come out on top. Brawn over brains, though I can also hold my own without getting physically involved. I don’t like it, but I can do it.

Today, however, I don’t want to pit myself against Mattia, and also, I came here to say sorry, to tell him I need his help, that I must have him by my side and never against me. We complement each other, and when we put our strengths together, there’s nothing we can’t do. We’re unstoppable.

“Matti, I—”

He raises one hand, which prompts me to stop.

“What are you doing here, Leo? And at this time?” His gaze roves over me. “And clearly piss drunk.”

I close my eyes briefly. Of course he’s noticed. I can’t hide anything from him. Well, not much, anyway. I do have some secrets I’m keeping safely. This man knows me, and I can’t fib. Not tonight. I came here for a reason, and I best come out with it.

“Let me say my piece, okay?”

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