The Boy I Used To Know (The Mafia Family #1) [REWRITING]

chapter two

Fighting has always been a part of my life, something I was taught at a young age. In my family, it's tradition for the kids of the family to learn how to defend themselves and others, as well as the business at a young age.

Since I was the heir that was set to receive the business once my father retired when I turned eighteen, I started learning earlier than my sister. It was a necessity and every lesson and training session I endured was preparation for that day.

That day was three years ago. Three years ago I returned back from training ready to take over for my father.

For the first year, my father stayed close by my side, guiding me through the day to day and making sure I was able to remain level headed and organized even in times of stress or high-pressured circumstances. Slowly and surely, the more he pulled back the more that it felt like my business. I learned everything there is to know, and with his careful but reassuring guidance I took over.

"Alessandro, please come right in! We were just about to start!" Emiliano states as he walks out of the break room with a cup of coffee at the same time Matteo, Vinenzo, and I walk past.

"Hopefully we aren't too late, we hit some traffic on the way here," I reply, walking in step with him towards the conference room.

"Don't worry, everyone is just starting to get settled in there," he shrugs off the excuse, his steps faltering once we reach the door. "Plus you aren't the only one who's late..." he trails, glancing at his watch before looking to the empty receptionist desk with narrowed and concerned eyes.

"I see," I mutter, confused on why his receptionist being late is such a worrisome thing. He takes one more look towards the elevator doors as if he's trying to use his mind to make someone appear.

"Alright, I guess we can get this meeting started." Emiliano shuts the door behind him. "Scar, thank you for taking the time to join us this morning."

I glance to the man sitting across from me. He's not very keen on being in public or being so far from his wife for too long. Scar is the King of the underground. He's not in any Mafia, or some may say he holds a place in all his allies Mafia's. Scar is the one you call when situations start to get extremely out of control. Somehow, he has a hand in everything without owing anyone anything.

"I was in the area and figured I'd stop by until my wife finished with her an errand," he answers, his gaze fixed on the window behind me with his eyes easily tracking something, or someone. "So, how have things been? Any issues with...business?" He remains set on the window as he asks his set of questions, letting it known he's not asking anyone in particular.

"Everything has been running smoothly on the Italian's end. Except there was some noise a bit ago that one of my guys picked up on, something about intercepting one of my shipments. We doubled security on the last run, and my guys brought in someone who was sent to take at least one box of weapons," I admit after a couple of minutes of no one speaking up.