Page 2 of Enzo DeLuca

"It’s okay to be weak sometimes. When my grandmother died, I shut everyone out for months."

"Right. You did. Grandfather thought you'd gone crazy."

"Maybe I did go a little crazy."

"I guess that means I'll go a little crazy soon."

"You don't have the luxury of shutting yourself out and going a little crazy. Too many eyes are on you. Appearances, remember?"

Fucking appearances.His grandfather had often said that dons had to go through life wearing many masks. Enzo had asked if he’d meant to say hats. He'd said no. Masks. The people you were with determined the mask you wore. Enzo had asked if that meant he needed to be fake with some people.

His grandfather had replied, no, but sometimes you have to show them what they want to see in order to see the real them. Enzo was still trying to see the real in those around him. Things weren't always what they seemed. He'd have to rely on his gut to steer him in the right direction.

When they reached the study, Stefan told him, "I'll wait out here."

With a nod, Enzo entered the room. He noticed Peter standing near the desk. However, his attention was pulled away from the man by the scent of lemons that filled the air. Enzo walked over to the bookshelf where the cleaning staff always placed incense.

The don was gone, yet they were still placing the incense he liked there. The incense was made from the bark of the genoa lemon tree that grew in his backyard. Were they still placing them there out of habit or out of respect? Probably both.

"Please have a seat," Peter said from his place near the large oak desk.

The desk his grandfather had sat behind so often. Enzo moved to a chair in front of the desk and sat down.

“Please sit here.” Peter pointed to the chair behind the desk.

Enzo stared at the chair. That chair belonged to his grandfather. How could he sit there?

“I’ll stay here,” Enzo said.

Peter smiled. “Your grandfather said you’d behave this way. He told me to insist that you sit here. You’re the don now. Not only did you inherit the title, you also inherited this home. This chair is now yours. Your grandfather wanted you to sit here.”

Swallowing back tears, Enzo stood and moved to the place his grandfather wanted him to sit. Peter pulled out a folder.

"I've already gone over the will," Enzo reminded him. “The family members have all been told about the items and lands they’ve inherited. So have members of the organization. And...”

"This isn't his will." Peter pulled out sheets of paper. Enzo instantly recognized his grandfather's handwriting. "This is a letter Don Ermanno DeLuca left for you. You, and only you."

Enzo reached for the letter and noticed that his hand was shaking. Lowering it, he told Peter, “Place it on the desk.”

Peter did as he was told, then bowed his head. "This was the last act the old don requested of me. Now that it's done, I have fulfilled my duty. This is my final act as a consigliere. I thank you for allowing my son to serve as your consigliere, Don Enzo DeLuca. I hope you show him the same respect and trust the previous don showed me. I have taught him to be loyal to the DeLuca family and organization. I've taught him to be honest, even if it goes against popular opinion. He will always put the family first.”

"I know he will. Stop bowing. Thank you for your service, Peter. You were with my grandfather for how many years?"

"Ever since he became the don."

"Right. He appreciated everything you did for this family. I've put together a little something..."

Peter shook his head. "Your grandfather has already put together a package for me."

"He did? When?"

"A few months ago. Read the letter. He'll explain it all. Though this is my last day, my son knows to call me if he needs anything. That goes for you, too, Enzo. I'm old now. I can't hold a gun the way I used to." Peter tapped the side of his head. "But my mind still works."

"I will definitely call if I need your help. Likewise, if you need my assistance, don’t hesitate to call."

"Thank you. I will leave now. My son is waiting for me."

Why did it feel like he was saying goodbye to everyone who'd been with him for as long as he could remember?

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