Fatherly Figure

V A L E R I U S ' P O V :

A warm breeze sweeps through the air, the trees shutter with the wind.

My eyes trail off from my boring work to take a look at the small girl who has recently found her way out of her protective shell. I'm.. happy for the girl.

It's good she's getting better. The sooner she gets better, the sooner she's gone.

It's been a week and a half since I came back to Italy. I've taken Eleonora to see Carlo once more since we've been here. We learned a some more about her but I'd like to know everything. More specifically, I'd like to know who the fuck put their hands on her.

Without guards here it's been odd. I've been surrounded by them my whole life. But for now, for Ell- Eleonora's safety, I figure it best to not have as many people know of her.

Also, I find that the less people around, the more I see who Eleonora really is.

A gush of warm air flushes around and Eleonora's hair whips, her fingers try to brush it away from her face. I see the small smile that ignites her features when she finds me. She runs to me at full force.

Eleonora has been getting more used to walking, she doesn't need much to any help anymore.

"You!" She laughs, holding something out for me, placing it in my palm that I held out.

A small white flower, practically a weed. It's crumbled slightly from her tight grip.

"For me?" I tease and she nods happily, her smile never leaving. A deep feeling clouds my gut. "Thank you." I let a smile come to my face, knowing no one else is around.

I've tried to hold it back for weeks, the slight turn of my lips. A 'smile' some people call it. Though, soon I realized I was doing it unknowingly so I let it take its course when we were alone.

"Again!" Eleonora cheers and runs back out, tossing herself to the grass, digging for more weeds to bring me.

I took the deformed flowed and slide it into the inside of my pocket where the other eleven crumbled flowers lay.

She's been at this game for awhile.

"Don."

My head turns around to find John next to me. A twitch of annoyance ran through me, I should have heard him coming. I let out a bothered, "What?" My eyes find their way back to Eleonora who digs around in the ground, getting her baggy grey leggings dirty.

I need to go shopping for her. The clothes John gave us were still too big for her scrawny body.

"May I suggest something?"

"Go on." My finger taps the black lawn-chair I sit on. These things are so uncomfortable. I need to buy new ones.

"Since we've moved back, I've had my wife and kids come back too, so I'm closer to them." In my head I picture his happy family, an unwilling ping of jealousy consumes me. "I don't want to push but I think it might benefit Eleonora if she's around kids somewhat close to her age. I suggest maybe letting the children meet each other."

"Are you suggesting I host a play date, John." I utter, my disgust clearly evident. "I'm not a father, I don't host play dates."

"Yes, Don. I know. It's only in best wishes for your— the girl, I mean." He says, his voice wavers at what to refer to Eleonora as.

If being around kids her age will help. That means she will get better soon.. she'll leave sooner and I don't know how much more I can take of this girl before she fully consumes my head. She has to go before I get attached.

"Yes. Bring them. How about dinner?"

"Sì, Don."

"John I've told you before, there's no need to address me so formally when no one else is here. I am your friend. I hope."

"You are." He nods his head towards me.

Just then, Eleonora runs over to me, weed in hand and goes to give it to me before she notices John. Her eyes light up and she shoves the flower towards him. He takes it. Jealousy picks through me.

That's my stupid fucking weed.

"Thank you, Eleonora." John smiles at her and she giggles her sweet laughter.

My stupid weed.

Eleonora looks to me and her smile falls slightly. Her little eyebrows scrunch and she turns, quickly running back through the yard, grabbing a fistful of grass. She hurries back and plops it in my palm with a gleaming smile. Her face is full with satisfaction.

"For you!"

For me, not John.

My stupid weeds.

"Sì. For me. Thank you."

With a curt nod, Eleonora runs off to continue her weed picking.

If this was my mother, I would have already been punished for picking in the dirt.

"I'll have go tell my wife of the plans." John says. I almost wave him off before a thought blooms in my mind.

"I've never met your family John."

"You have not."

"Bring them. It seems awfully rude of me to not know the family of my best man in guard."

If he's already bringing his daughters, he might as well bring his son and wife too.

"Yes, Don." He replies with a smirk, knowing the formalities annoy me.

John leaves and I stay outside with Eleonora, half paying attention to my work but more importantly, counting how many shreds of grass land in my pocket.

• • •

"Don't be nervous." I tell her. She picks at her fingers, standing behind my legs.

Bending down to her height, Eleonora stands in front of me with worry in her eyes. "Why?" She asks softly, her head tilting.

Oh sweet devil child.

"Because if they hurt you, I will kill them."

Okay, fine. I won't kill the children. Only their parents and frankly, I find John tolerable so I'm hoping that won't be a problem.

Eleonora's head tilts further at my words. She blinks once. Then her hand finds its way to my cheek, my serious look never leaves. Then.. she giggles. Amusement soars through me.

I always knew she was a little devil-spawn.

Laughing at my words of murdering people.

I think I may be rubbing off on her too much. I should watch how I act.

My lips tip upward. "I always knew you were a little devil, sí?" I tease, tucking her hair behind her ear.

I stand from my knelt position and Eleonora keeps a slight smile, twisting her fingers in with mine.

We go outside when John got notice from his wife that she's arrived. I watch as a dark skinned woman comes up my driveway, holding two little girl's hands. A boy —slightly older— walks beside them. I watch from the porch. Eleonora stands behind me, peering out from behind my legs.

The two little girls, with fairer skin than their mom, run into John's arms. Something slams against my chest, the remembrance of a family that could have once been mine, if I had only just told the truth sooner.

I watch in complete jealousy, my cold features keeping me from revealing how I truly feel.

I once believed that I could have a family of my own, one I chose. Not one I was given or forced into. A wife, maybe a fucking dog, who knows what could have been.

They all greet John happily. I notice how different his usual stoic face is. Now, a wide smile fills his lips. He kisses his wife and the knife twists deeper into my heart. His wife passes me a wary glance before saying something to John.

I felt a hand tug on mine. My eyes follow downwards. Momentarily, I forgot that Eleonora was here.

Those damn blue eyes lock to mine.

"What is it?" I question quietly, her worried look pulling at my heart.

"Friend?" She asks, her head turning to where John's girls stand in the driveway.

Her hand tugs on mine and something constricts in my throat. "Yeah, sure kid." Her eyes meet mine again. "Anything you want."

The look that shows in her eyes after she hears my affirmation makes me almost drown in the pools of her eyes. I try so hard to look away so I don't get the chance to even rethink giving her a life without me. I just can't pull my eyes away from hers.

I can't take care of a child. She will not be happy with me.

Luckily, my irrational thoughts are interrupted by a six-year-old.

"Hi, I'm Alessandra!"

I turn my attention to the short carbon-copy of John's wife, only smaller and just a shade paler.

The short girl's attention was turned to Eleonora. A bright smile on her face.

She has puffy buns on her head with pink ribbons tied around them. Her shirt matches the sparkly pink ribbon.

"Eleonora." Ell—Eleonora said with more confidence than normal.

"Do you know how to play house?"

Eleonora shakes her head no.

"Oh." Alessandra blinks at Eleonora.

Bitch.

"Alessandra, that's rude." John chides, sending Eleonora a smile to make up for it.

I'm not amused and frankly I'm two seconds away from punting this child across my yard.

"I can teach you." The identical sister tells Eleonora. "I'm Aurora." Aurora holds out her hand for Eleonora to shake but nothing happens.

Aurora pulls Eleonora's hand up. She high-fives their hands.

Alessandra walks back to her mamma, mumbling something.

"Can we play?" Aurora asks, looking up to me.

"I'll take you out back." I look to John and he nods showing he doesn't mind.

Soon, I find myself entranced by little children running around my lawn.

Having children was an interesting thought when I was young, a kid myself. Once I got older, I understood then that I could not protect a kid. Life is too fucking unpredictable to have that much control over something.

I knew I couldn't become a father because I knew I never wanted them go through what I had to.

"Why don't you play with your sisters?" John enquires.

His son sits with the adults at the table outside. He plays with his fingers, pretending like they're action figures.

"Girl games are dumb." The stubborn boy crosses his arms over his chest. "There's never any boys!"

"What would you like to do then?" I watch as John conversed with his son. Attending to his needs, caring for the boy.

Something about the scenario rises a deep feeling within me. Maybe a want for something I never had growing up.

"Why don't you go see what they're doing? You could find it's not so bad." I tell the boy and he looks to me, his face scrunching.

I don't fail to notice how John's wife, Mila, straightens her posture and looks at me intently. Anticipating that I might pull a trick somehow.

Six years ago, John came to my father for help. Right before I took the crown to the mafia. He asked for help financially, his wife had gotten pregnant again and they were in debt from an abusive father. John's father. My father said no but when John came again —to me this time— when I took the rightful position, I said yes. The only condition being to become a soldier in my Mafia. My generosity must be given with something in return.

For this, Mila, is not accustomed to this lifestyle. Probably wants nothing to do with it. So I don't miss the intense stares or the flinches when I move. She's scared of me and rightfully so.

"Nooo—" The little boy, Ty, started to whine. "Girls are so annoying!"

Maybe to some surprise.. whining children don't really effect me. Of course they do get obnoxious at some point but I understand that their brains are just too underdeveloped to handle certain situations. So, I don't react at Ty's little whines.

Though, his mother does. "Ty. Go, don't complain. Go play with your sisters."

I watch the interaction, it's visible that Mila is tense. Her jaw is locked as her gaze flickers to me at certain times.

Ty runs off annoyed but without another protest.

"Are you scared of me, Mrs. Ambrose?"

Mila's eyes snap to me, John casts us an uncertain gaze. I don't miss how her hands squeeze within themselves. John holds her knee.

She pauses for a moment before realizing she had to answer me. "No." Her voice wavers.

"It isn't smart to lie to someone like me, Mila."

John casts me a gaze, how cute. He's protective over his wife, I never imagined he wouldn't be. Though, I know he trusts me enough to understand I won't do anything. Seeing people on edge is something so. . . entertaining.

I tap my glass of water, clink. I smirk with my eyes to the children playing in my yard.

What have a become. A babysitter?

Mamma mia.

"Yes, then. I'm scared." She admits. I feel her starring at me. Brave woman. John is lucky.

"Why? I do not bite. Not my victims anyway." I take a sip of my drink.

I can here her say something hushed to John and he shakes it off telling her to not worry. It's good that she's scared.. if she wasn't, then I'd be worried.

She stays silent.

"I think I'll start on dinner now." I flatten my crimson colored tie to my dress shirt and stand. "John, watch Eleonora. Will you?" It was a rhetorical question.

"Sì, Don." Good.

"You're cooking?" Mila asks, a mix of worry and shock.

"Would you rather nothing?" I retort.

"No— I," she huffs a breath. "I just thought you had people for that."

"I do." I turn to her and she looks away. "But I would not be a real man if I didn't know how to survive on my own."

I can feel it, she wants to ask more questions. Either out of curiosity or nervousness, I can't tell which.

"Don't worry, I only use poison with those I don't like. You're safe for now." I walk off as Mila's hand tightens. John holds it.

I go inside and look back to gaze out the window. Eleonora's eyes look at the door from the noise and she sees me through the glass. She smiles and waves. I wave back.

John was calming Mila down, reassuring her as I walked back to my kitchen.

• • •

"You're finished?" I ask Eleonora.

She nods and I start stacking our dishes to clean.

Dinner went well, I could see the ease in Mila's eyes. John must've said something in my favor. It is nice knowing John's family since, of course, he knows mine.

Since Eleonora isn't very good at eating with utensils yet, I had her in my lap during dinner. I helped her hold her fork, even though the pasta would always unwind when she put it to her lips. Then a soft pout would paint her lips and I would have to do it for her.

I know what it's like to have a soft spot. I know what it's like to become attached to a person. I just never want to do it again.

Ellie— Eleonora is weaseling her way into my heart whether I like it or not. I'm afraid it might be too late for me to save my heart from melting into complete mush. It's been almost three weeks and every day my stupid wants fill my heart. Corrupting my plan to live the rest of my life in solidarity.

When I was young and naïve, I thought one day I'd be able to have kids and live a life, proving to my father that you really can do it all. That his lies were bullshit excuses. For awhile, I really believed it would happen. Though, soon I realized I just couldn't do it. I couldn't be selfish like that.

The mafia would consume me and I'd never have time to actually know my child and if I were to take the time, my mafia would crumble. The odds just aren't in our favor for a lifestyle like this.

I ruined her, I ruined what we had and just like her, I'll ruin Eleonora too. I refuse to do that.

I clean up Eleonora's face and then the table. John's family helps too. John was given the night off, he refused at first but I told him I'd shoot him if he didn't.

His family should come first. He deserves that.

"Thank you for dinner, Don." John nods at me, his kids run off to their car. Mila stands beside him.

"You're a friend, John." I give him a nod and he smiles nodding his head back.

John goes to walk away but his wife holds up a finger. "Uhm.. can you give me one second?" John's eyes are curious but he nods. He gives one look back before fully walking away.

Now my interest is heightened. I thought this woman was terrified of me.

Interesting.

"I'm sorry."

What?

"What for?" My tone was flat but I'm curious.

Why the sudden change?

Mila's feet fidget slightly, telling me she's still nervous around me.

"I was quick to judge. I'm sorry if I came off rude. You— you saved our lives years ago.. even if that means Johnny has to work. . . here."

Oh?

"Well, I may be the devil but I'm not cruel." A devilish look conformed my face. "And anyway, my heart is not fragile, I can handle a few nasty stares."

Mila puts her hands to her hips, breathing a heavy breath out.

She's relieved.

"I don't support what you do— or what," She flaps her hands around. "Whatever this is. But being here today made me realize that I guess I pictured you a little more.. I don't know.. stabby?" A humorous huff left my lips. I've been called lots of things, but stabby has never been one of them. "You're a terrible man but you're a good father. So, I guess even the cruelest people can have a heart. It makes me worry less for my Johnny."

I was ready to leave a snide comment about how dumb she must be to call me a terrible man to my face. Until I realize what she said.

"Father?" The word leaving my lips, unfamiliar.

I spit the word out with pure shock.

Mila's eyebrows scrunch like I'm insane for being so taken back.

A sudden anger takes over my body. Deep down I know it strives from fear.

"I am no father. Did John tell you that?"

She can sense my tone, she's scared again.

"No!" She sputters quickly. "No, I just guessed. He only said a girl was here and we were going to have dinner so she could play with our daughters. I— I just guessed when I saw you interact with her—"

"Well don't guess." My voice is cold. "It kills."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Armani. Really, it was my mistake!"

"It was. I suggest you go now, Mrs. Ambrose."

She gulps, her eyes wavering. "Please don't punish Jonny for my mistake! Please, it was my fault—"

"Go." My snappy tone makes Mila focus. Her breathing is heavy when she turns to walk back to their car.

Something surges inside of me.

I don't really act like her father. I don't.

I can't.

• • •