29 | women and children
Father stood at the side. I knew he was staring too and it was safe to say that he was highly annoyed by me. The large rectangle room was bright with florescent lights and it kind of reminded me of an interrogation room with the large metal table in the middle and a leather wheeling chair that my husband's imposing figure sat on behind an office desk.
I wanted to cry the moment I saw him as my body relaxed a bit. The man himself stood up and I quickly gave the gun back to Fabio. Men didn't exactly like giving women power and the one who holds the gun was the one who decides. Fabio didn't hesitate to take the piece from my hand before bowing his head to my husband and taking a step back.
I looked down when he approached me. The room was silent other than the silent sobs from the girls who were just standing there. I felt disgusted by what was happening here. I didn't know what type of business Father dealt with or how my husband was involved but I was hoping it was only drugs. Oh, how wrong I was.
His shinny rich black shoes fell in line with my vision. I didn't dare look up from the floor. I wanted to go hide from the embarrassment and shame of who I was and on which side I was. I knew I wouldn't even be able to meet the girls' eyes.
His hand titled my chin up making my eyes meet with his coal ones. They were emotionless—almost like death—and he had no emotion in his eyes whatsoever. He was great at concealing his feelings and he rarely ever slipped up. However, I knew from the way he looked at me that he also wanted me to answer his silent question: what happened?
"A man misbehaved with me where the children are prisoned." I couldn't help but let the disgust sweep through my words at the mention of them trafficking such innocent souls. I quickly snapped my mouth shut once I realized I judged him.
Anticipating to get hit was something I didn't want anyone to ever go through. I flinched when his finger trailed down my cheek where I had been slapped. The contact made it sting and heat up in pain.
Antonio glanced away, his expression the same as before—nothing. I watched as his eyes moved to Father who was glaring at me furiously for some reason. I knew I had done the wrong thing by being angry but it wasn't really his problem anymore. It was the Don's. If anything, Antonio should be angry. Then why was Father angry? Was it because I disturbed his horrid business?
"Children?" my husband asked, his eyes darkening in anger.
I was utterly confused. Yes, of course children, I wanted to say but of course I didn't. I wasn't stupid. I was not getting in between my husband and Father if they had an argument. I didn't think it would come to that though because Father would submit the moment he angered the Don. Plus, I knew my husband wouldn't hesitate to shoot Father down. It didn't matter that I was his daughter and honestly, I didn't think I'd care much. One less demon on earth.
Ignorance was really a bliss.
Father glared at me furiously before speaking. "Yes. I think it would boot up our business. Recently, our clients are more interested in more younger pussies. It's the new trend and it's much more popular. More money."
I bit my lip to stop myself from saying anything because I knew that I wouldn't be able to do anything. In fact, it'll only make it worse for me. In the end, my husband's word mattered the most. I glanced at Antonio even though I knew I wouldn't get much from his expression and as expected, I didn't. If I didn't know any better I'd think he was concealing his anger which he didn't need to because he was, well, the boss.
Antonio tilted his head to the side. "We do not use children for pleasure. I thought I made that very clear when I first took over," my husband said with a monotone voice. That was more scary than him flipping out. It felt like the room got colder as Father froze as his eyes widened in what I could tell was fear before he quickly composed himself. Before he could answer, my husband continued. "Is your word bigger than my word, Micheal?"
Father glanced at me who was in my husband's arms. I hadn't even realized when he wrapped his arm around my waist. Father knew who had the upper hand here. He couldn't do anything to me or his boss despite this being his own house.
"I'm sorry, Don," he said, trying very hard to conceal his anger. Maybe if I wasn't such good at reading people then I would think he's guilty but I knew Father. He was a fantastic liar. "I will free them at this moment."
My husband didn't reply. He just stared before grabbing my arm and dragging me to his seat before sitting down and pulling me onto his lap so my back met his front. Despite the situation, I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. This was so not appropriate, especially in front of Father.
"There is no need to free them," Antonio finally said as one hand played with my hair and the other wrapped around my stomach. Due to his breath fanning the side of my face, I knew that he wasn't looking at Father while speaking.
I froze. Was he going to go with it and sex traffic children too? It wasn't as if the Giordano Family never trafficked children. When Raffaello took the reins, he had made such acts more popular. Kidnapping and trafficking people became more popular. It was popular enough for it not to be stopped.
For a moment I thought my husband wouldn't stoop that low but who was a I kidding? Antonio was the Don. He wasn't going to be some stupid softie made of full of muscles. He wasn't some broken bad boy. He was a classified criminal with a psychopathic mastermind. He can't be a leader without being the worst and establishing fear. There was no kindness in him.
I glanced at Father who's eyes were gleaming with pride and happiness at how much money we were going to get. Then, I looked at the women who sported either red or white lingerie—which told us who was a virgin and who was not. There were about six women with two being virgins and the rest not. I could see the haziness in some of their eyes. The ones who were sober couldn't hide their disgust.
"Get the kids into the other business. Train them into soldiers and then we'll see what to do," he said.
Father looked downright pissed but less than before. He was considering it. After while he smiled. "That's not a bad idea. It will be done. How do you want them sorted, Don?"
Father wasn't a nice man. I knew that. I also knew that he was overconfident but he wasn't stupid. Father wouldn't make the mistake of going against the Don again, even though he was his son-in-law. My husband wouldn't hesitate to shoot him dead.
My husband pulled on a strand of my hair making me wince. His hand then enclosed around my neck and pushed me back so my head was leaning against his shoulder. He was clearly showing me who I belonged to but why? The only people in the room other than us were Father, the girls and Fabio.
"Get the boys in the drug business, train them to be a honourable mafiosi and get the girls to strip and be the baiters," he ordered.
Father nodded immediately. "Yes, Don. But what if they aren't Italian?"
My husband leaned back, bringing me with him. "You don't need to worry about that. Fabio will look into that. Also, you will retire. Marco will handle it from now on."
I would have laughed if not were the severe situation. Father's face had turned red and even though tried to conceal it, the vein on his forehead looked like it was going to burst. If it weren't for the fact that Antonio was his boss then Father wouldn't have hesitated to murder him.
"Yes, Don," Father gritted out before leaving with Fabio to handle the matter.
And then it was only us and the women. He rubbed my hand up and down before dipping his head and marking my neck. His grip on my arm tightened when he found the marks my harasser left on me. I knew that men were possessive—especially husbands that didn't share. I really hoped that my husband didn't punish me for something I didn't have control over. However, I also knew that men were kind of crazy. Women, on the other hand, were taught to forgive and forget. When Antonio would get a mistress, I would be expected to ignore it like everyone else just so his ego could stay sated.
I didn't want to let it go. I didn't like sharing and what was worse was that even though Antonio was wrong and a filthy criminal, he was my husband and no one could change that. Morally, he was mine.
A slam of the door broke me out of my thoughts. My eyes snapped up and I found a very buff man dragging in a very familiar face whose mouth was covered with a bandeau and I just knew things weren't going to end well.