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He looked me in the eyes. “I want my son back.” He sighed deeply. “I realize what I did to you was wrong and unforgivable.”
He looked like he was swallowing a box of nails before he uttered his next statement, “I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sorry and I want to make amends. You're the only son I have and I want to try and be the father I should have been.”
I shouldn't have let his words impact me the way they did. But the fact was, DeLuca never felt bad for a single thing in his entire life. It still wouldn't take back all that he'd done, but a small part of me wanted to believe that he wanted to change, that he could be a better person.
“One condition. Actually two.”
“Name it.”
“One―no one is to tell my two fighters that I'm your son. There's no way they would respect me or my training if they knew the spawn of Satan was the one guiding them through the pits of hell. I need them to trust me first and foremost. I need them to believe in me so I can get them through this.”
“Fine, consider it done. As long as you agree to meet with me on a monthly basis for di “I guess I could manage that. As long as you adhere to my other request.” “Which is?” “Never set my fighters up for a fall. I'm okay with testing their limits and pushing their boundaries so they become better fighters, but I will never be okay with purposely setting them up to get killed or seriously injured. It's a deal breaker.” I stomped on my cigarette. “I hate the way you run the club but I know I can't control it until the club officially becomes mine. But you damn well better not kill my guys. Understood?” “Understood. The club will be all yours in 10 years.” “10 years!” He shrugged. “You know the length of my deals. Now let's get the hell out of this shithole. We have a plane to catch and a business to run.” And that conversation is how I currently find myself pulling up to his home. Almost 3 years since I agreed to coach Jackson and Tyrone. Two men who have become more like brothers to me rather than my client's. Two men I'd do anything to protect. Two men I consider my family and DeLuca knows it. But even so, there's nothing he can do about it. Because if he did, he knows he'll lose me and ruin what little relationship we have with one another. I ring the doorbell again and curse the begi Finally deciding I had enough, I open the door and walk right in―only to find him on the staircase, buttoning his shirt and fixing his fly. It's obvious I interrupted him in the middle of something. I’d heard through the grapevine that he had a girlfriend but I still had yet to meet her. I also heard that she was beautiful, younger than he was and they were serious enough to be living together. “I rang the doorbell, but you didn't answer,” I say. He nods his head in the direction of the dining room. “I was busy. Come on, let's eat.” I follow behind him and take a seat at the table. “Tyrone needs a day off from training in a few weeks because his mother's coming into town and he wants to spend the day with her. I told him it was okay,” I say, getting right down to business. Besides, even if it wasn't okay, I couldn't care less. Tyrone's mother is the sweetest woman in the world. I would never refuse her anything. He sits up in his chair and looks around the dining room. “That's fine.” He snaps his fingers. “Marlene, are you serving di “Coming right up, Mr. DeLuca.” I try not to roll my eyes and tell him off. I hated the way he spoke to people. Less than a minute later, Marlene walks into the dining room and proceeds to serve us. “Thank you, Marlene. It looks great,” I say, before giving her my signature panty-melting smile that makes her blush. She looks at DeLuca and frowns. “Will she be joining you for di I don't miss the hint of snarkiness in her tone when she says that. Apparently, his girlfriend doesn't make friends easily. He looks up from his plate. “Yeah, she's supposed to be down here already. Go fetch her for me and make sure she's suitable.” This was unusual. I've been here once a month for almost 3 years and not once have I ever met his girlfriend. Marlene finishes filling our glasses with wine and nods. I ignore my own wine but DeLuca takes a hearty sip before he focuses his attention on something behind me. “There you are, Bambina. Get in here.” I turn my head and all I can think is―Bambina, indeed. She certainly looks like a baby, and it has nothing to do with her small stature either. This girl can't be more than in her late teens, maybe early 20's at the most. I point my thumb in her direction. “I take it this is your girlfriend's daughter?” I hear a giggle erupt behind me and DeLuca narrows his eyes. “No this is not my girlfriend's daughter,” he spits. “This is my Lucia I sit back in my chair and watch as some broad with long dark hair wearing a tight black tube top dress makes her way to the table. Then I watch in both amusement and concern as she proceeds to guzzle the full glass of red wine that Marlene poured for her. Marlene fills up her glass again and she guzzles that one down just as quick as the first one. Either she's a sorority girl in the making, or this girl has some serious issues. Marlene finally just gives up on walking away and stands by her side, filling the glass up one more time. I've never seen anything like it before, and DeLuca doesn't even bat an eye. He just tears right into his ravioli. After she finishes her third glass in less than 10 minutes, she motions for Marlene to fill it up again. “It's empty,” she informs her curtly before walking away. The girl pouts, folds her arms across her chest and makes a face at DeLuca. DeLuca raises a finger. “No. I won't tell you again. Have all the wine you'd like, but you're off the other stuff for good, Bambina. Deal with it.” Other stuff? What the hell is going on? Then it dawns on me. It's obvious his girlfriend is some stray that he brought home. But then again, she is pretty hot. You know, if you like that glazed over, drunk, party girl look. She groans and pushes her plate away like a 5-year-old. “Then I'm not hungry.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine, starve for all I care. You're still not getting your way, Lucia She mumbles something under her breath that I don't catch but DeLuca must because he stiffens. “Care to repeat that?” She tosses her napkin in her dish and runs a hand down her body suggestively. “I said then you're not getting any of this.” That's when I start laughing, I can't help myself. I've never heard a female speak to him like this before. Hell, DeLuca may have just met his match after all. It's times like these that I wish I could tell Tyrone and Jackson about DeLuca being my father. They would get a kick out of watching this.
