Page 16 of King

And anger.

The rage I feel towards Zina for putting me in this position is the worst weight of all.

She’s asking me to betray my sons. To have her move into their mother’s home and to welcome her as though she belongs.

How can I do that to them?

How can I turn away my other son?

Again anger surges and I continue to pace.

Eventually, the sun rises, and the room gets brighter and brighter.

Her warning has been on my mind for the last few hours.

And Zina has made it clear that she isn’t going to back down. I believe her when she says she will tell everyone. And it will tear my world apart. The rest of the family will start to lose respect for me, and everyone knows that respect is power. Whether it comes through fear or not.

It’s five when I push my bedroom door open and head down to the kitchen to make coffee.

The house is still quiet but in the kitchen I find the head of the security team, and my right-hand man. He’s busy making coffee for himself and turns towards me with a smile. “Rough night?” he asks. “I imagine it’s hard to not have her next to you.”

I nod.

“Can I make you a coffee?” he asks.

I nod again.

He busies himself, pulling a second cup out of the cabinet, scooping freshly ground coffee into the machine. Watching him I realize I need to talk to someone if I want clarity. My mind is too busy with too many things. And if there is anyone who will be brutally honest with me - it’s him.

He’s been at my side for over a decade and I’ve trusted him with many secrets before.

“Fabio, I need your advice.” I say with resignation.

He turns away from the machine, handing me a hot, dark coffee. Black without sugar. Exactly how he’s made for me a thousand times.

I mutter thanks and he leans his back against the kitchen counter, crossing one foot over the other and watching me quietly.

This is one of the reasons why I like him so much. He doesn’t speak unnecessarily and when he does, its words worth listening to.

“That woman who came to the funeral - “ I begin.

“Mm.” He nods. “Zina.”

“Yes, her. The boy who was with her - he’s my son.”

He doesn’t move and his face doesn’t change. There is no judgement, only patience. He’s waiting for a question.

“His mother and I were together sixteen years ago, and I ended it because - well - it’s obvious why I ended it. But now that Bella is gone, Zina is demanding that our son have the same rights that my other sons have. She wants her and the boy to move in here.”

He nods, sipping his coffee.

“I don’t know if - you see - I understand he is my son, and I would love the chance to get to know him. But now is not the right time. And it would cause hell with the other boys. I need to know how to make this go away. If the family found out. Or worse - if our rivals found out and tried to use it as leverage against me?—”

Fabio sets his coffee on the kitchen counter.

“What do you want to ask me, Giovanni?” he says.

“What am I supposed to do? I think my judgment is clouded with grief and anger and memories of the past.” I sigh heavily.

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