Chapter 5: "Are you my daddy?"

POV: Stefano

"Everyone was surprised to see you with just one woman, Don." Paola's voice echoed through the large, luxurious room with her high heels, until she sat down on my solid mahogany desk as a centerpiece, next to me, with a completely provocative cleavage, after kissing my ring.

Twenty-eight years old, that was a plausible reason for me to have slept with the woman responsible for the logistics of my business, but at that moment, all I could think about was the second when Giovanni, my consigliere, would walk in saying that they had finally found the boy.

"I needed to show people more responsibility; I couldn't keep ignoring this, Mia bella."

"Do you plan to get married, Don?" she asked, turning her face towards the window, something in her posture that I couldn't identify, nor would I spend time on it now, there were more interesting things to occupy my mind.

"No, no girl seems to meet my standards... Why hadn't you chosen her before?" I touched the contract Beatrice had signed, forgotten on my desk until then.

"Beatrice works exclusively."

"How many men had she been with?" I asked, the seat of my chair sounding a little more uncomfortable now.

"A few hundred. Are you interested in her? What about us, Don?"

"I don't think it mattered to you." I threw the paper on the table, her voice starting to irritate me. "There is no 'us'; you're mine until the moment I didn't want you anymore. Don't ask too many questions, capisce?"

"I'm sorry, Don, it won't happen again." She said, making me wish Paola would leave soon.

"How did the arms shipment go?" I asked vaguely, anticipating the end of her visit to my office, looking at one of the paintings on the other side of the room, an expensive reinterpretation of Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper, a stupid idea of my father's so that I wouldn't forget that a traitor was always in our midst. He was right, but I didn't need him for that when I lived with it daily. It was only then that I noticed the gun in my other hand, until that moment.

She answered in the affirmative, giving details of how everything worked out, but my eyes remained fixed on the gun, now recalling the night that would never leave my memory. It was a summer's day, a night I wished I could erase with a sip of whiskey in a dark bar or by getting lost at a poker table. However, her sweet yet cheeky voice... her skills with the cards... had hypnotized me in seconds, like entertainment for my mind. Surely my father would say how weak I was for not being brave enough to shoot the girl as soon as she had finished speaking, and as much as it bothered me, I was glad that the revelation had fallen as a good excuse for me to feel less bad about failing. Although I wanted to and was trained for it, something inside me couldn't bring itself to exterminate her as it should have, but now it had become clear to Beatrice who I was, who my father had made me become.

"Long night, Don? Do you want me to take care of it?" The woman's voice echoed, her fingers touching my bare hand with a few bruises, reminding me of the sensation of having that man's blood on my body, asking myself when it had become so natural for me to kill someone that I didn't vomit or feel remorse.

I withdrew my hand, placing the gun on the wood, moving away from Paola and going to the window to light another cigar. I hoped that she knew not to touch me, regardless of her intentions.

"No! Just focus on your work, that's enough." I looked out at the dark street, the stress reverberating in my voice.

She tilted her head, her dark hair falling over her face, hiding part of her expression. She had always known that I kept a calculated distance and that, to all, I, Stefano Salvatore, was an impenetrable man, just as the mafia demanded of a leader's posture.

"As you wish, Don."

I heard her heels echoing in the corridor outside and moving away. It wasn't long before the door handle tried to be turned, albeit with some difficulty. I was ready to eliminate whoever was bothering me that night, when I turned my body, and the door finally opened. The small silhouette with black hair and light eyes stood out in the doorway, revealing an innocent expression of surprise at finding me. The boy took a step backwards with difficulty, while his other hand held his stuffed animal, with a small lock falling over his small, round face.

My eyes were fixed on that still being, as I tried to process the reality that this was my son, a son I didn't know existed until a few hours ago. I had no idea what to do; it would have been easier if my father had been a good example, but there was something in the boy's gaze that resembled me when my mother had left, especially when Davide stared back at me and cringed in embarrassment. At that moment, I discovered that there was still some kind of goodness inside me, a remnant that I could barely decipher.

"Sorry, Don, the bambino slipped out of my hands." Giovanni's voice echoed, as he took the boy's hand again, looking tired as he approached to kiss my ring, which made me smile, slightly, almost imperceptibly, realizing that the boy was intelligent enough for his age.

"What have you found, mi amico?"

"The bambino is your son. One of our doctors carried out the necessary tests, and the girl's story coincided with some of the cameras we had access to. Her friend let us in, thinking it was the girl, and we knocked her out as agreed..." He continued, the boy clutching his toy even tighter in his hand. "He keeps calling for his mother; if you want to start training him, it's crucial to separate him from Beatrice, Don, for business and the boy's future."

Giovanni had become my consigliere ever since I had to take over his father's position in the business, thanks to his death. I knew he was right; that's how I got here and became Don, that's how everyone reached that position, and I didn't need a reminder of the man's skill and confidence, as we had been best friends since birth, long before we were tainted by all the dirt my father had left behind. I didn't protest.

"Are you my daddy?" Davide looked down at his own feet, wiggling them, mouthing a few scrambled letters, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Yes, piccolo," I replied, bending down to his level. "Your mother is waiting for you, do you want to see her?" I asked, promising myself that the boy needed to see the girl one more time, and that would be enough.

He nodded affirmatively, finally lifting his face to look at me.

"Are you still going to go on rescue missions for superhero organizations and leave me alone with Mom?" he asked, with curious, hopeful eyes. So that's what Beatrice came up with to justify my absence.

"No, piccolo, you and your mother won't be left alone again, capisce?" I took a moment to answer, unable to say the words I needed; fearing his reaction, or a crying fit that I didn't want to deal with right now, was too much for me.

I received a shy smile, which I forced myself to leave behind, standing up and feeling the confusion in my confident demeanor.

"Take him to the children's room and put something on to distract him. I'll check on Beatrice."

"Yes, Don."