Page 41 of Secret Baby for the Mafia Don
I nod again, even though I have no intention of doing that.
As I leave his office, my mind is already calculating next steps.
I may yield to his authority at this moment, but I won't abandon my mission to protect him, especially now that I understand how vulnerable he truly is.
I just need to change my tactics.
I make my way to the back of the house and out to the terrace.
Frank, my father’s underboss, is there, lighting a cigarette. “Overheard your father explaining his arrangement with Calabresi. Came out for a smoke until I knew he was free."
I wrap my arms around myself against the December chill. "Do you believe it? That Don Calabresi is helping us?"
Frank exhales a stream of smoke. "It's true they have an agreement. Marco's been overseeing some of our operations, stepping in when your father…" He hesitates.
"When his mind fails him," I finish quietly.
It means he knew what was going on the first time I told him of my suspicions and asked him to keep an eye on things.
"But between us? I understand your reservations. I've never trusted Calabresi. Man like that doesn't do charity work."
My gaze jerks to his, a feeling of validation growing. "So you think I'm right to be suspicious?"
"I think power creates opportunity." Frank's eyes narrow. "And Marco Calabresi has never been one to waste an opportunity."
Relief floods through me.
Finally, someone besides a federal agent who understands. "I need your help, Frank. If Marco's truly helping us, fine. But we need insurance."
"What kind of insurance?"
"I want copies of everything. Contracts, meeting notes, financial records. Anything that passes between my father and Marco." I lower my voice. "We need to document every move he makes."
Frank studies me carefully. "Your father wouldn't approve."
"My father isn't thinking clearly." I hate that I’m going against his wishes, but if I don’t protect him, who will? "Someone needs to protect his legacy."
"And that someone is you?"
"Us," I correct him. "Will you help me?"
Frank crushes his cigarette under his shoe. "I've served your family for thirty years. I'm not about to let Calabresi take what's yours."
I left my father’s office terrified and defeated.
Now, I have an ally and a plan.
The next morning, I brew coffee strong enough to cut through the fog of a restless night.
My father's warning still echoes in my head.
It’s surreal to think my life could be forfeit if I continue challenging Marco.
But the alternative, being shipped off to Luca or worse, married off like chattel, is equally unacceptable.
Armed with my coffee, I lock myself in my room and spread documents across my bedroom floor, creating a map of our family's operations.
If I'm going to protect my father without getting myself killed, I need leverage, not just accusations.
