Mafia Trade

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I can tell he likes when I say things I shouldn’t in Spanish. His eyes light up. As much as I think he would dread admitting, I think he fancies me. Even though our relationship started forced I don’t think I want that. Father had many relationships, all forced and none were happy. I want happiness. I agree I am the best fit for the head of the mafia father ran; I wish I weren’t. A normal life, with none life-threatening issues, would be nice for a change.

Here I stood, Inches away from Miles. His lips slightly parted and his body, clearly happy to see me. “I need words, Principe.” I try to get him to agree to what I want. It had been two weeks of me not seeing him, three of us being together and each day it grew harder not to take him. He has never done this, perhaps he is scared. I take a step back. “Miles, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I should go.” When I take another step I can hear him let out a sigh. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say as I turn to the door.

Mother is outside the door. “It’s been twelve hours, when are we going to talk about your father.” He had always been there for me. He had a short temper and used strength more than anything but he was caring, and he loved his operation. The one he would give to me in ten years’ time, Now. It was my uncle’s for ten years. Then, It would be mine. “There is nothing to talk about, He is dead and now tio will rule till my time,” I tell her pushing by her and walking into my room. I was never one for emotions, One could say I’m very mature, just not emotional. I should focus on something other than Father. I told myself as I grabbed a paper.


-Get him to hold my hand -Get him on a date

-Get him to kiss me -Gain his trust

-Sleep together -Marriage

-run from the mafia and live a life together where we can be happy like in mothers stories

I wrote the last line small in the corner of the page, It was foolish and unrealistic. But part of me wanted it. With or without Miles, maybe... Hopefully with. Like a childish dream, I pondered the thought of living outside my town. An impossible thought. I, Justin. Am a hopeless romantic.

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