Her Mafia Daddy - Chapter 89: Chapter 89
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I wasn't in the mood for women and champagne. "Ha un momento?" He got up and came to where I waited. I shook his hand and slapped his back. "The place looks fantastic. And the numbers are even higher than that club last year. You've done very well."
"Thank you, Rav. Are you all finished in the basement?"
"Marco and Benito are still down there." I filled him in on what we'd learned. I had always liked Gratteri, which is why I trusted him to teach my son. He was older and had seen a lot over the years, so I didn't hesitate to ask his opinion on how to handle D'Agostino.
While Gratteri talked, I saw movement from a back hallway over his shoulder. It was Dimitri and another man, one of Gratteri's lower foot soldiers. My son looked to be in a hurry, his eyes on his phone as he texted furiously. I swear, I didn't know how he and Valentina did it. I've never seen anyone text so fast.
Just as I was about to look away, I saw the foot soldier's hand swipe across Dimitri 's back. It was a familiar touch, one that spoke of intimacy and affection, and lasted a shade too long. Like how I might touch Valentina as I quickly walked past her.
It happened in a blink and I thought maybe I imagined it. But I knew I hadn't. Italian men were demonstrative, even sometimes with other male friends, but this had been different. This touch had been more than friendly. I knew it in my bones.
He's never one to play with the girls at the clubs or the waitresses. Never even accept a blow job.
What did this mean? That my son...preferred men?
No, that wasn't true. It couldn't be. He was my son. The Ravazzani heir. He was not gay. I would know it if that was the case, wouldn't I? I watched as Dimitri strode across the floor, still texting. He'd never seemed attracted to Valentina , which is a miracle in itself, considering her looks. Instead they had played in the ocean like siblings.
I shook off these thoughts. If he were gay, someone would have noticed. There would have been talk. Rumblings. The men gossiped worse than Zia and her friends when they were playing a game of briscola. Marco would have undoubtedly heard and brought this news to me.
Still, the back of my neck itches as I finish up with Gratteri. I gave him half of my attention, while the other half remained on my son as he left the VIP area and went downstairs. He never noticed me, which was probably for the best.
Bidding Gratteri goodbye, I went to find Marco. The bodies were being dismembered and shoved into drums for disposal. Marco and Benito were laughing and chatting, unaffected by the grisly work. "Marco," I called.
He came over, his gloves covered in blood. "What is it, Rav?" For a moment, I hesitated. I trusted Marco with my life, but this was my son. If Dimitri were gay, I could not even begin to fathom the repercussions. Still, I needed my cousin's help.
"I saw Dimitri come out of the back hallway off the VIP lounge with one of Gratteri's soldiers. The boy seemed overly familiar with Dimitri ." I let that sink in, and Marco's eyes went wide. "You think? No, Rav. It's impossible. Your son?"
"I'm sure I am wrong, but I have to know."
"As far as I know there aren't cameras outside that exit, just on the inside of the door. I can put one outside if you want."
"Do it. No one is involved but me and you. Not even Gratteri. And no one sees that footage but me. Capisce?"
"Of course. I'll get it up tonight, when no one's around. We have those new tiny cameras the Guardia uses. I'll put up one of those."
"Good." I dragged a hand through my hair. "Grazie."
"Rav, don't worry. Maybe they were out there doing blow. You never know with kids these days. I'm sure it's nothing." I nodded and clapped his shoulder. "God willing."
Because the 'Ndrangheta did not tolerate gay men. They were feared and distrusted, and usually one of their family members killed them to save face. I could not even contemplate what this meant for my son if it were true.
Valentina's POV
I was pacing in my room, on the verge of hysteria, by the time Dimitri returned from the pharmacy. "Here," he said, handing me the bag. "I bought five, just like you asked."
"Thank you. I'm sure it's nothing. It has to be stressful." Dimitri held up his palms. "I know nothing about a woman's cycle, but I think you should check. Just for peace of mind, no?" I swallowed. "I know. Will you stay?"
"Of course. Go. We'll check together." I went into the bathroom and opened the first box. The instructions seemed fairly simple. Hold the stick in the pee, let it sit, and read the results. Maybe I should take two tests, just to be sure.
Hands shaking, I unwrapped another box and peeled open the paper on the stick. Holding both, I sat down and peed, making sure to wet each stick thoroughly. Then I set them on the counter, cleaned up, and called Dimitri in. He entered carefully, like he was afraid of startling me. "Well?"
"Thank you, Rav. Are you all finished in the basement?"
"Marco and Benito are still down there." I filled him in on what we'd learned. I had always liked Gratteri, which is why I trusted him to teach my son. He was older and had seen a lot over the years, so I didn't hesitate to ask his opinion on how to handle D'Agostino.
While Gratteri talked, I saw movement from a back hallway over his shoulder. It was Dimitri and another man, one of Gratteri's lower foot soldiers. My son looked to be in a hurry, his eyes on his phone as he texted furiously. I swear, I didn't know how he and Valentina did it. I've never seen anyone text so fast.
Just as I was about to look away, I saw the foot soldier's hand swipe across Dimitri 's back. It was a familiar touch, one that spoke of intimacy and affection, and lasted a shade too long. Like how I might touch Valentina as I quickly walked past her.
It happened in a blink and I thought maybe I imagined it. But I knew I hadn't. Italian men were demonstrative, even sometimes with other male friends, but this had been different. This touch had been more than friendly. I knew it in my bones.
He's never one to play with the girls at the clubs or the waitresses. Never even accept a blow job.
What did this mean? That my son...preferred men?
No, that wasn't true. It couldn't be. He was my son. The Ravazzani heir. He was not gay. I would know it if that was the case, wouldn't I? I watched as Dimitri strode across the floor, still texting. He'd never seemed attracted to Valentina , which is a miracle in itself, considering her looks. Instead they had played in the ocean like siblings.
I shook off these thoughts. If he were gay, someone would have noticed. There would have been talk. Rumblings. The men gossiped worse than Zia and her friends when they were playing a game of briscola. Marco would have undoubtedly heard and brought this news to me.
Still, the back of my neck itches as I finish up with Gratteri. I gave him half of my attention, while the other half remained on my son as he left the VIP area and went downstairs. He never noticed me, which was probably for the best.
Bidding Gratteri goodbye, I went to find Marco. The bodies were being dismembered and shoved into drums for disposal. Marco and Benito were laughing and chatting, unaffected by the grisly work. "Marco," I called.
He came over, his gloves covered in blood. "What is it, Rav?" For a moment, I hesitated. I trusted Marco with my life, but this was my son. If Dimitri were gay, I could not even begin to fathom the repercussions. Still, I needed my cousin's help.
"I saw Dimitri come out of the back hallway off the VIP lounge with one of Gratteri's soldiers. The boy seemed overly familiar with Dimitri ." I let that sink in, and Marco's eyes went wide. "You think? No, Rav. It's impossible. Your son?"
"I'm sure I am wrong, but I have to know."
"As far as I know there aren't cameras outside that exit, just on the inside of the door. I can put one outside if you want."
"Do it. No one is involved but me and you. Not even Gratteri. And no one sees that footage but me. Capisce?"
"Of course. I'll get it up tonight, when no one's around. We have those new tiny cameras the Guardia uses. I'll put up one of those."
"Good." I dragged a hand through my hair. "Grazie."
"Rav, don't worry. Maybe they were out there doing blow. You never know with kids these days. I'm sure it's nothing." I nodded and clapped his shoulder. "God willing."
Because the 'Ndrangheta did not tolerate gay men. They were feared and distrusted, and usually one of their family members killed them to save face. I could not even contemplate what this meant for my son if it were true.
Valentina's POV
I was pacing in my room, on the verge of hysteria, by the time Dimitri returned from the pharmacy. "Here," he said, handing me the bag. "I bought five, just like you asked."
"Thank you. I'm sure it's nothing. It has to be stressful." Dimitri held up his palms. "I know nothing about a woman's cycle, but I think you should check. Just for peace of mind, no?" I swallowed. "I know. Will you stay?"
"Of course. Go. We'll check together." I went into the bathroom and opened the first box. The instructions seemed fairly simple. Hold the stick in the pee, let it sit, and read the results. Maybe I should take two tests, just to be sure.
Hands shaking, I unwrapped another box and peeled open the paper on the stick. Holding both, I sat down and peed, making sure to wet each stick thoroughly. Then I set them on the counter, cleaned up, and called Dimitri in. He entered carefully, like he was afraid of startling me. "Well?"
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