Chapter 175: Mamá

Chapter 175: Mamá
Twelve years ago…

The scent of oregano, lemon, and roasting lamb filled the air of the small, bustling Greek restaurant. The walls were painted a cheerful Aegean blue and white, and the sound of lively Greek music mingled with the chatter of patrons. This was Rose Karakatsanis’s sanctuary, a place owned by friends where she felt safe and warmly accepted.
Rose sat across a small table from her son, Kieran. He was twenty-two, already possessing the intimidating physique and quiet intensity that would later define him, though his expression now was thoughtful, almost introspective.
“So, first day on the job,” Rose said, stirring the thick Greek coffee in her cup. “The bodyguard suit looks good on you. How was it?”
Kieran took a slow bite of his spanakopita. “Fine. Long… Interesting.” He pushed the pastry aside, his gaze fixed on a point just past his mother's shoulder. “Mom, I have a question.”
“Shoot,” Rose said, her brow furrowing slightly at his sudden seriousness.
“Is there… Is there a chance that Cesare Santoro is my father?”
The question landed like a stone in the quiet atmosphere of their small corner booth. Rose froze, her wide, dark eyes fixing on Kieran in shock and genuine revulsion. She looked utterly appalled.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Kieran?”
Kieran quickly justified himself. “I know, I know. But you used to work for him before I was born. And now I’m working for his family now. I just… I wanted to be sure.”
Rose shook her head sharply. “No. Absolutely not. That man,” she said, her voice laced with deep distaste, “always gave me the creeps. He’s a monster. No.”
“Alright, then,” Kieran said, a simple finality in his tone. He seemed satisfied, moving on already.
Rose, however, couldn't shake the question. She took a deep, deliberate breath, steadying herself.
“Kieran,” she began, her voice low and serious. “I know I always said I didn’t know who your father was, that I wasn’t sure…” She paused, gathering courage. “But I do know. I’ve known all along.”
Kieran’s attention snapped back to her, but he remained calm, waiting.
“He was… he wasn’t a good man,” Rose continued, her eyes growing distant with memory. “He was married. Yes, he was involved with the mafia, he worked for Cesare Santoro like everyone else. He was powerful and charming, and I was enough of a fool to believe he was going to get a divorce and leave his wife for me.”
She looked down at her hands, which were twisting a linen napkin. “Suddenly, I was pregnant, and he wanted me to get an abortion. He gave me the money for it, and I just… I couldn’t. I already loved you too much. So I decided that fuck him. Better no father at all than a father like that.” She lifted her chin, a flicker of defiance returning to her eyes. “I never heard from him again. He could be dead as far as I’m concerned.”
Kieran looked at his mother, then slowly, he smiled. It was a genuine, reassuring smile that chased the hurt from her face.
“It’s okay, Mom,” he said softly. “I don’t really care about this anymore. Years ago I figured you must’ve had a good reason to never speak about my father, so…”
Rose’s tense shoulders relaxed. She had always feared this moment. She’d feared that her son would grow up and blame her, be angry with her, resent her for her poor choices. She had feared he would dream about a man he didn't know, loving a father who never wanted him. But Kieran wasn't like that. He had grown up to be a good man, fiercely protective, a dedicated son, and she was immensely proud of him in every sense.
“So,” Rose said, changing the subject back to the present, “why the sudden interest in your father? Why did you ask about Cesare Santoro like that?”
Kieran grinned, a youthful, devilish flash. “Oh, nothing. I just thought his daughter was like super hot, and I wanted to eliminate the possibility of us being siblings. That would be creepy.”
Rose leaned over the table and lightly slapped the back of his head.
Kieran threw his head back and laughed, the sound booming briefly in the quiet restaurant corner.
“You don’t talk about women like that, Kieran,” Rose scolded, though her eyes were twinkling. “I raised you better than that.”
“Okay, sorry.” Kieran laughed.
“And you stay away from that girl, alright? You work for the Santoros, that’s all. These people are dangerous, I don’t want you to get too close to them. This mafia shit...”
“Sure.” Kieran gave her a dismissive wave.
“I’m proud of you, Kieran.” Rose’s expression softened again, swelling with pride. “σε αγαπώ (se agapó - I love you).”
“I know,” Kieran said automatically, already reaching for his coffee.
Rose cleared her throat intentionally, giving him a meaningful look.
Kieran sighed dramatically, then smiled. “σε αγαπώ you too, Mamá.”