Page 5 of Enzo DeLuca

"Fuck that," Enzo told him and headed toward his front door. “You’re only my driver for now. I plan to hire someone.”

"Don’t go into the house yet. I'm supposed to go in ahead of you to make sure..."

"That's what I have all these fucking guards for."

He was already tired of them. They'd been assigned to him by the consigliere as soon as he'd received word that Ermanno DeLuca had been shot and was in the hospital. Knowing that Enzo would be the next don, Peter had sent guards to his house. Having them around was going to take some getting used to. A lot of getting used to.

"Enzo, you have to change your mindset. You're the don now," Stefano called from behind him.

"I know."

"Then act like it."

Enzo stopped. He turned around slowly. "If I acted like it, I would’ve put a bullet in you just now. Right? Not a kill shot. But something to teach you to respect your don, since you just disrespected the don."

Stefan pulled his gun out. "I apologize, Don DeLuca. You can use my gun to do it."

Enzo sighed. "Lighten up."

"I can't. Not on this."

"You're like a brother to me. You're my right-hand man."

"I'm a soldier for the DeLuca family. And now, I'm the don's guard."

Stefan was determined to take this seriously.

"Okay. Go on in and check. Make sure it's safe for me to enter. But must we do this every night?"

"We must."

“This is ridiculous. You and I could probably take out all these guards. Are they protecting me? Or am I protecting them?”

“They’re your first line of defense.” Stefan strode past him. “And these guards were chosen and trained by me. It would be hard for you and me to take them all out.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Enzo followed Stefan. He greeted the two guards standing outside his house. In the morning, they'd switch shifts. He’d have a steady rotation of guards protecting him day and night. His life was no longer his own. It now belonged to the organization. He’d known things would be like this. Yet, he hadn’t expected it to feel as suffocating as it did.

Once they were inside, Stefan told him, "Things will calm down some after a while. While tensions are high and we don't know how other families will react to our loss and the rise of a new don, we have to keep security tight like this."

"I understand." He fucking hated it. But he understood. There were two guards in the front corridor of his home.

"How many guards do I have here total?"

"Thirteen. Two at each of the three exits and one in each of the corridors. Then you have one protecting all sides of the grounds. North, South, East, and West."

"You don't think you're overdoing it?"

"Your grandfather kept thirty-two guards on hand."

"Yeah, but he was the..." Enzo paused.

"You were about to say, don, right?"

"It still hasn't sunken in. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up in the morning and tried to call his phone. I've done so the past two mornings. I didn’t remember he was gone until I heard his voice on the voicemail."

"I was the same way when my grandmother passed. Your mind knows they're gone, but your heart hasn't accepted it yet. It'll take some time. For now, accept the thirteen guards. If anything happens, we’ll increase them. If nothing happens, we'll drop it down to eight or nine."

That wasn't a big drop. Enzo was too tired to negotiate. He felt drained. His head was pounding. He felt like he could sleep for a week straight if he didn’t have an organization to manage. Another yawn escaped him.

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