We proceed to eat until we’re all stuffed.
There was everything from spaghetti to lasagna, and new desserts I haven’t tried before. I've now developed an obsession for cannoli.
My mother sent a large plate with us to bring back. My guys will fight over it, I’m sure.
Before we leave, my father hands me a large stack of papers. “Please read and sign these, in your own time, Carina. We'll plan on seeing you soon?”
“Thank you, and of course. I look forward to it.” I kiss them both on the cheek, and get in one last hug.
I can’t wait to fill the others in.
Synn
I'm waiting eagerly for Pazessca to return from seeing her parents. I'm annoyed she didn’t bring me with her, but I get it.
Things are moving more quickly now. It's all lining up beautifully—too easily, honestly. Shit is going to hit the fan again soon.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, the one I kept, though Jax gave us burners. I couldn’t part with it since a lot of Franco contacts have the number. I pull it out, seeing an unknown number on the screen. Thinking it could be about Pazessca, I answer it.
“Yeah?”
“Meet with me in thirty minutes and come alone.” My father's angry and cold voice shocks me.
“Why?”
“Just do this, Joseph. If you don’t, the ones you love will suffer.”
“Where?” I grit out between clenched teeth.
My father shares the address, which is one I don’t recognize, then hangs up without another word.
My fist slams into the wall and I debate getting help. The threats are too vague, and I don’t know what I’m walking into; so, I decide to go alone.
I snatch a pair of keys off the rack inside the garage, pressing unlock to figure out which car it is. One of the flashy ones, a red Ferrari.
I plug the address into the GPS on my phone, and head to the address, gunning it to hopefully arrive before my father does.
I pull up to a random Italian restaurant, Mancini’s.
I snort; of course, the pompous bastard would be so damn cliche.
Parking the car, I walk inside. Looking around, I don’t see him or any of his men. The host hustles up to me.
“Mr. Franco, we’ve been expecting you. Please, right this way.”
I'm taken to the back of the restaurant, into a booth partially closed off by a wall. I'm brought a bottle of wine and a glass, as well as a hot bowl of bread. I turn my nose up at both. I just want to get this shit over with. I settle in to wait.
Thirty minutes later, my father sweeps into the small restaurant with his entourage.
God, what a dipshit. He looks like such a douche.
His eyes lock onto mine as he takes his time coming to the booth. He slides in opposite me, his guards standing; flanking the booth.
“Joseph. You have pushed me too far. All the fathers have been pushed too far by this point. You are no longer being given a choice in anything. In fact, we no longer consider any of you our heirs.”
I press a hand to my heart dramatically. “Oh no. How will I ever go on?”
“You insufferable piece of shit,” my father says in a lowered voice.
