Barely Lethal

The Morettis

A/N - Some of you asked for longer chaps so here's one!
_

I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol-induced bravado or genuine concern, but I mustered the courage to confront him.

"Who did you just text?" I repeated, my tone more assertive this time.

Eric finally glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I am not used to asking twice, Avery. I like to be answered right away." he replied cryptically.

A surge of frustration and confusion swept over me. "Why are you stalking me, Eric? How do you have all my details?" I demanded, my voice tinged with both anger and vulnerability.

He sighed, as if grappling with a decision, before responding, "I'm not stalking you. I'm just cautious. In my line of work, caution is second nature."

His words did little to assuage my concerns. Cautious can have him get access to any information? How's that possible?

"I never asked for your help," I retorted, my voice sharper now. "I can take care of myself. You can drop me off here."

Eric's gaze returned to the road, his grip on the steering wheel unyielding. "I said I'll take you home, and that's what I'm going to do."

I just keep quiet for awhile. I was too tired and accepted defeat.

I turned my head slowly towards him, studying his side profile. Gosh, he almost looked perfect if he wasn't being the most infuriating asshole. "So do you have access to some dark web or something?"

He glanced at me briefly, his eyes reflecting the city lights. "My world operates on a different level. You're better off not knowing the details."

The car moved in silence for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. "So, what? You just spy on people whenever you feel like it?"

Eric's lips curled into a subtle smirk. "Only when I need to. Information is power, Avery. It helps me stay ahead."

I didn't even understand the context but pretty sure it's not what I think.

"Who are you?" I said defeated.

He left a short sigh, almost mockingly, "Giovanni Moretti. Eric Giovanni Moretti."

The revelation left my mind in a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. Moretti — an Italian surname that carried a weighty legacy.

"Moretti?" I repeated, testing the name on my tongue. "Why did you write Thompson in the documents?"

Eric's gaze remained fixed on the road, weariness flickering in his eyes. "I don't advertise my family background. It tends to complicate things."

"But Moretti... that's..." I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "That's not just any name. Are you involved in... something?"

He chuckled, a sound both wry and cynical. "Avery, we all have our family businesses. Mine is just a bit more unconventional."

My mind raced, connecting the dots to a notorious name that had made headlines. The Moretti family — a powerful and infamous Italian mafia clan known for their influence, wealth, and the clandestine operations that shrouded them. It was like everyone had heard of them but they did not exist at the same time.

"The Morettis?" I muttered, the weight of the revelation sinking in. "Are you saying you're part of... that Moretti family?"

"The very same unfortunately," Eric confirmed, his gaze remaining fixed on the road ahead. "I prefer Eric when I'm not dealing with family matters."