Chapter 14 FOURTEEN

Chapter 14 FOURTEEN
\[RYAT\]

I find my sister and her friend about to leave for school by the time I get downstairs. Chiara looks mad, and I know the reason why.
She toys around with the food on her plate as she glares at me. Kira sits opposite her. Unlike my sister, she is silently having her meal. It's been one week and I haven't paid any attention to her. I don't even let my gaze linger on her.

Not like I don't notice her presence. Her kiss and her touch have been all over my head. I realized I was making a big mistake trying to fuck Hernandez’s daughter and the earlier I back off the better.

But backing off hasn't proved to be easy.
I'm afraid I might lose control if I let my gaze stray on her for too long. Especially with all the fucking ridiculous dresses she's been putting on lately.
Today's attire is a light pink sundress with thin straps, and an insanely low neckline which shows off a little too much of her cleavage.
She's been parading herself around the casino in these little dresses of hers, getting the men salivating over her. I've had a hard time stopping myself from plucking some idiot’s eyes out for staring at her.
However, Chiara's silent tantrum and my little temptresses' seduction are not the first things I noticed, and which surprises me.
What I'm really surprised about is the fact that Jena sits at the breakfast table. She is seated just beside Kira, and eating her food, and speaking to Kira in a silent tone. I stare at her, and it's like I'm in a dream.
Jena doesn't look like Jena.
Her usually messy hair is braided in two pigtails, and she wears a pink floral gown rather than the nightgowns she always wears. She looks very..... organized,?
"Ryat!" She says, immediately she notices me.
Fuck, she's even smiling! What have I missed?
"Good morning girls.” I move and plant a kiss on Chiara's cheek before doing the same to Jena, who giggles. She looks happy. She's never looked this happy in a long time. “Someone's excited.” I ruffle her hair.
“Kira said she'll play with me if I eat all my meals.”
Martita comes into the dining room, and places a plate on the table. She gives me a smile on seeing me.
"Good morning Ryat,” She says and I give a slight nod.
"Isn't this a surprise? Jena doesn't have meals outside her room unless I persuade her.”
"Well, I don't know how, but Kira managed to convince her to come down,” Martita says. You can hear the excitement in her voice as she works. "Well, I was setting the table when Jena walked in complaining she was hungry. I was surprised, myself. However, when I saw Kira behind her, I knew exactly why,” Martita explains.
I direct my gaze to Kira. She stares up from her plate, and meets my gaze. Her cheeks turn pink , and she slowly traps her bottom lip between her teeth.
My cock twitches at that little action. I close my eyes for a brief moment in an attempt to stop myself from reaching over and feasting on those plump, pink lips, before opening them again.
This is the main reason why I've been avoiding her, avoiding letting my gaze linger.
Her every action is a fucking turn-on. I'm not even sure the little temptress knows what she's doing. I glance at my watch and then the stairs. We have a flight to catch, and the idiot who goes by the name Jay is probably still wrapped around a woman.
Just as I am thinking of calling him, he comes down the stairs looking his usual, playful.
"Good morning, Martita. Good morning, ladies,” He greets. His voice is as cheerful as ever. However, I don't miss the way he glares at Kira. She meets his stare head-on till he looks away.
That's my girl!
"Jay and I are leaving for Sicily,” I inform, then turn to Chiara." Ronan will drive you both to school, and he'll bring you home when you're done with your lectures."
"But.."
"No buts Chiara. Can you please not fight me on this?" I tell her in a tone that leaves no room for arguments.
I have a lot of enemies in and out of Italy. That's one of the reasons why I had her study in New York for several years. There is no way I'm letting her live in a hostel alone.
No.
She's staying here, where I can keep an eye on her, or Ronan can in my absence. I know he has a soft spot for her, even though he tries to hide it. He looks at her like he'll do anything to keep her safe.
I have no doubt he will.
She looks at me like she's about to refute my decision. However, she decides against it when her friend gives her a look and shakes her head. I turn around and walk out of the house, Jay following closely.
We get to the car, and the driver opens the back passenger seat. Once we are settled in, he speeds off. I pull out my phone and dial Romano's number. Turning on the speaker, I place the phone on my lap and lean back.
"Romano speaking. Who is this?" He asks, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Cut the crap Romano. What's the news?" I ask, not in the mood for his bullshit. He had promised to get me an insight to the bravta.
One way I can convince grandmother is if I do something no one else has. So far no one has been able to strike an alliance with the bravta. Nikolai knows some people in the circle, and I sometimes wonder why he hasn't used the information to his advantage.
“Calm down man. I'll tell you what I know, and who to talk to. The rest is on you,” He tells me. His voice dims as he starts speaking to someone in Russian. The conversation goes on for a good five minutes, before he clears his throat.
“So you'll meet with Alexander Ivanov. He's the pakhan’s right hand, and will present whatever offer you have to him .”
“What are my chances?”
“I don't know about that. Ivanov is a dick most of the time. However, I've put in some words for you, so he'll definitely help convince the pakhan . You don't have anything to fear,” He reassures me.
“So when will I be meeting him?”
“Unless you're willing to go to Russia, you'll have to wait for a very long time. However, if you are going to Russia, then I'll talk to him, and set up a meeting for you both,” He says and I can't help but scoff.
“You sound like my assistant right now. That suits you better than being a godfather don't you think?”
“Fuck you, Ryat,” He laughs. “ I'll talk to Ivanov and get the meeting fixed.”
I hang up and lean back against the seat. Jay stares at me intently, like he wants to tell me something. “What is it?”
“Well I was thinking,” He pauses for a while, before biting down on his bottom lip, something he does whenever he's in deep thought.

My thoughts instantly recall how Kira had done the same thing. She looked so sexy with her bottom teeth between her teeth and damn those lips tasted divine.
I haven't been able to get the taste out of my head. I tried kissing other women but none of them came close.
“I was thinking we could use the little Hernandez bitch to get to her father,” He tells me. I hate how my blood boils at the mention of Kira. How dare he address her as a bitch?
Fighting to keep my composure, I shake my head, not bothering to answer. I'm not using Kira against her father. I'm not using anyone against Raul Hernandez.
My problem is with the bastard, and I'll not use innocent people to hurt him. I'll settle my scores with Raul Hernandez, and it'll just be between the two of us.
“I don't understand . I thought…”
“No Jay. We're not using anyone against Hernandez and that's final.”
“Why not? Don't you want revenge anymore? Or you just don't want to use her because you want her,” He yells, and I shoot him a glare. “ What? You do want her. I see it in the way you stare at her, like you want to devour her.”
“Last I checked, I am the Don and your boss. My decisions are not up for questioning or debating. We are not using anyone against Hernandez and that's final,” I tell him.
“Ryat…”
“Drop it Jay.”
“But…”
“I said drop it.”
I step out of the car, which had stopped moving already. The private jet was already ready. I step in, and Jay follows behind me.

\~~~

In an hour and a half, Jay and I are seated in the grand living room in my grandmother's house. I stare at the place, and a strong feeling of nostalgia surges through me.
Memories of when I still had a family. Memories of when I still had a mother. Memories of when I knew nothing about the mafia or killing people. Just a little boy who wanted nothing more than a toy soldier to play with. The only happy memories I have as a child were created within these walls, and so were the saddest.
I grew up here, under Mom's loving care and grandmother's strict upbringing. Then, Maximus doted on me, like I was an answer to his prayers.
I recall Mom's laughter and soft voice whenever she sang me goodnight. Grandmother's strict yet loving upbringing. But as they say, good things never last
It was just one night and everything changed. One night was all it took to put an end to everything I held dear. To drag me into a dangerous lifestyle which Mom would have been so against.
I must and will get my revenge. But it will be just between Raul Hernandez and I. I clench my fists as determination burns through me.
The sound of footsteps breaks through my reverie. I lift my gaze to the staircase, and see my grandmother descending the stairs.
Maria-Joana Vitale is in her late sixties, but damn, she ages like fine wine. She looks unchanged except for her slightly shorter hair which is packed atop her head in a bun . Her eyes soften when they settle on me, but her stern expression doesn't waver.
“Grandmother,” I greet as Jay and I stand up
“Capo dei capi,” Jay greets with a subtle bow. Grandma merely nods to our greetings. She just stares at us silently for a while.
Finally, she turns around and begins climbing the stairs. “My office Ryat. Alone!”
Jay stays in the living room while grandmother, and I go up to her office. The door swings open, revealing the Capo dei Capi's office. The spacious room exudes elegance and authority, reflecting Maria-Joana Vitale's refined taste.
Soft, golden light pours in through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the sprawling, antique wooden desk adorned with intricate carvings. Behind it, a high-backed, leather chair commands attention, the seat of power where she sits.
Above, a stunning crystal chandelier casts rainbow hues across the room. The walls are lined with vintage Italian art pieces, framed photographs of Donatella's ancestors, and shelves bearing leather-bound books on history, law, and philosophy.
A sleek, modern coffee table sits before a plush, cream-colored sofa, inviting guests to sit. Discreetly placed security monitors and communication devices blend seamlessly into the décor.
Grandmother's personal touches are subtle yet revealing: a delicate, silver music box on her desk plays a soft, Italian melody, while a framed quote from Italian philosopher Niccolò Machiavelli hangs nearby.
She moves behind her desk and takes a seat. She motions me to do the same, and I obey, sitting on a chair opposite her.
Grandmother sits poised behind her desk, exuding an aura of calculated power. Her raven-black hair which is packed atop her head gives a full view of her heart-shaped face, punctuated by piercing emerald eyes that seem to see right through you. Her porcelain skin is smooth, with subtle hints of fine lines etched by experience.
Her full lips curve into a subtle smile, hinting at warmth beneath her icy demeanor. A delicate silver necklace bearing the Vitale family crest rests on her chest, symbolizing her legacy.
Mom had a similar one, one I'll one day pass on to my wife. My thoughts instantly go to Kira, how my mother's necklace will look around her neck. I have no doubt she'll look ethereal. I shake my head to get her out of my mind, and focus on my grandmother.
Her tailored black blazer accentuates her slender yet athletic build, commanding respect without sacrificing elegance.
If I'm ever asked to describe her in one word, it'll be sophisticated
“So,” she begins. Her voice is low and husky, each word dripping with authority. “ What brings you here? You haven't been here in over twenty years.”
“I have something to discuss with you grandmother. I thought it would be proper if I come see you instead,” I tell her.
She raises a brow, and slowly taps her forefinger on the table. “What can I do for you Ryat?” She asks and I let out a humorless chuckle.
One more thing about my grandmother is, she's very intelligent. She wouldn't be able to rule the Cosa Nostra, and keep everyone in check otherwise.
Of course, she'll know I want something. I barely talk to her on the phone, talk less of taking a flight to Sicily to see her. The only times we talk are during the general meetings or her annual visits she pays to all our bases .
“I want to become a godfather.” I go straight to the point, not being one to beat around the bush.
“I see. Why then make a journey you've been avoiding for years, when you could have just told Max about it?”
I glare at her, and the action causes her to chuckle. Not everyone has the guts to glare at the Capo dei Capi.
“What did Max ask you to do?” She asks, placing her chin on her interlocked fingers.
“The bastard wants me to eliminate each and every one who goes by the name Hernandez,” I tell her. She tilts her head to the side and raises a questioning brow. “ Come on grandmother, that's sick. Raul Hernandez is the one who hurt us. What good will it do killing innocent people who don't even know the origin of this rivalry?”
She stares at me for a while, her emerald eyes expressionless, and reveals nothing of what she's thinking. I'd give anything just to get a look in her mind and see what's going through it.
Finally she lets out a sigh. “ I believe you want my support.” She straightens in her chair. “ You know, you remind me so much of Clarita. Regardless of the fact that you take after Max and I, I still see so much of her in you. If she were alive she would say you are right.” Her voice is filled with the nostalgia it always has whenever she speaks about mother.
“Are you helping me or not?” I'm not in any mood to speak of my mother, or anything related to that night.
“See why I say you take after me?” She chuckles. “I will help you.”
“But?” I press on knowing too well that there's more. Maria doesn't just help people. Not especially when she knows you're desperate, and will do anything for that help.
Guess it runs in the family.
“I have two conditions.” She picks up a paper from the table and hands it to me. “ First, prove yourself worthy of my trust and support. Second, find yourself a wife. I'm not getting any younger.”
I stare at the paper in my hands and see that it's a list of girls and their origin.
Great!
“I'm well aware you don't see Jena in the aspect of marriage. I had Sasha get the information on all these girls. But if you also don't like them, feel free to marry any other person,” She explains.
“What if I decide to marry a stripper or a slut?” I ask her.
Her next action gives me a mini heat attack. She tilts her head back a little and laughs. Not the fake, humorless laugh she often gives.
Her green eyes sparkle, and I feel the nostalgia I pushed away earlier rushing back to me. It's been a long since she laughed like that.
Fucking long!
“I wasn't a princess before your grandmother married me. But you know that story,” she tells me, her smile not fading. “I don't care if it's a street dancer you marry. If you love and trust her enough to make her your wife, then she'll be welcomed.”
“I'll prove that I'm worthy of your trust and support. And as for the marriage issue, I'll try but I can't promise,” I tell her, and her smile brightens. She's old, but the dimples on her cheek are still prominent.
We both stand up, and she walks around the desk to come stand before me. “I have no doubt that you will.” She pulls me in and hugs me. When she pulls away her expression has returned to normal. “And one more thing Ryat. Don't trust Jay too much.”
“Jay's my underboss grandmother. He's been with me for ten years.” I tell her.
She has never taken a liking to Jay. I never really care so much about it because she hardly likes anyone.Another trait I inherited from her.
“It doesn't matter. You shouldn't trust him too much,” She says softly, but I don't miss the warning in her tone.
She definitely knows something I don't. It'll be useless asking her since she won't say a word. Bidding her goodbye, I step out of the office, and head back downstairs. Now, I have to go see the head of the Camora, Don Violenta.
I've always had the idea of brokering an alliance between the factions of the Italian crime organization. This will be a perfect opportunity to fulfill my dream, and get grandmother to trust me.

\~~~
As we step out of the private jet, I am greeted with the unfamiliar landscape of Naples. I make my way to the car in the distance with one aim in my mind. Finish the meeting, and head back home.
Maximus is hosting a party tonight, and I need to speak with Romano.
“Do you think you can trust Violenta?” Jay asks as he falls in step beside me. I fight the urge to laugh at his question. Only a fool will trust Marco Violenta.
He is the head of the Camora, the Neapolitan faction of the Italian mafia. Rumor has it that he is ruthless and cunning. Trusting someone who is of the same nature as me is a mistake I'll never make.
“Don't expect him to do you any favors. Whatever he gives you, he will expect something in return,” He tells me as we get closer to the black Rolls Royce.
I snort. “ Favors are not on my radar.”
The last thing I'll do is expect a favor from Marco Violenta. I don't do favors because I don't like the idea of owning someone anything. We get to the car, and are greeted by a short pot bellied driver. He bows subtly on our arrival.
“Greetings Don Ryat. I'm Lazlo. I'll drive you to see Don Violenta,” He introduces before opening the door. I step in followed by Jay. As soon as the car starts moving, I turn to him with folded arms and raised brows.
He cracks a smile and shrugs. “ I just figured it'll be best if we let Don Bianchi know we are on our way so he'll be prepared for us.”
I let out a smirk and focus my attention on the road. Jay is not just my friend, but my right hand. He might be a flirt and think with his dick at times, but he knows what to do and when.
The drive takes us to a large warehouse where we are greeted by several guards standing guard outside. Lazlo takes us inside, and there sits the almighty Marco Violenta
“Don Vitale,” he calls with a smile. “ Please have a seat. I'm pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise Don Violenta.” I say sitting down on one of the seats in the room. We get straight to business, and I present my proposal of an alliance to him. He seems to be in approval of it. I find that strange because Violenta being Violenta will need hours long of convincing and sweet talking, before he even considers whatever you have to say.