The Mafia's Possession (Ongoing, Being Edited)

Chapter 13

I know I said that I would update every two weeks but as soon as this chapter was in my head I knew I had to type it out and post it for you all to read. I really like this chapter. I feel like it's one of my best written chapters ever.

I find that I come up with better ideas when it's late at night. I have work at 6:30 am and here I am awake, updating this for you all.

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Chapter 13

A large, body length portrait of a beautiful women was hanging from one of the walls in the foyer of Santiago's Spanish house. The lady in the portrait had long, curly, brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders. Full red lips stood out well against the women's tan skin tone. She wore a blue, tight, floor length dress that hugged her body in all of the right places that men loved. She was beautiful.

"That's Diego's and my mother. Her name was Leonor." Leonardo says from behind me. His voice is proud but a feeling of sadness lingers behind his words.

Tilting my head, I admire her beauty. In the portrait she seemed to be in her mid twenty's.

"Where is she now?" I ask in a soft voice.

"She's dead." Is my brother's blunt reply.

My heart skips a beat at his words. I turn around on the rolling chair I was sitting on.

Leonardo had insisted he push me around on the rolling chair while he showed me around the house so I wouldn't have to put to much pressure on my leg. I refused at first but the Fontanilla men have a way of convincing you with their deep, powerful voices to do what they say.

A million questions start to fill my mind but before I can ask any of them Leonardo speaks up again.

"She died giving birth to Diego. I was four at the time." He pauses for a few seconds before continuing.

"Let me start from the beginning. My mother had barely turned 18 at the time when she found out she was pregnant with me; same age as our father. There were no complications with my birth. Everything went smooth. Four years later Diego was born. But there were complications with him. She was in labor for too long and her body couldn't handle the strain the labor put on her. She didn't make it long enough to see her newborn or to hear his first cries. Her death broke our father. If you were to ask anyone who witnessed their love they will tell you that my mother and father were soul mates. My father cried for weeks alone in his room at night. Her death broke me in a way that no one will ever understand. I couldn't believe she was gone from my life."

My heart clenches from the way the words get stuck in his throat. His eyes became glazed with unshed tears. I turn back around and face the portrait knowing that he needs time to compose himself.

Clearing his throat he speaks with a stronger voice this time.

"But what hurt the most was that Diego was never going to experience what I had experienced with her. He would never be able to hear her beautiful voice or taste her amazing cooking. He wouldn't be able to experience the love my parents had for each other. He wouldn't be able to have her be so overprotective with him like she was with me. He would never see the way she smiled every morning. She hardly ever lost her temper and when she did she was a force to be reckoned with. She held a power over our father that no one ever had, or ever will. As Diego grew older he blamed himself for her death. Sometimes I feel like he still does but I make sure to remind him that we love him and that he is not to blame. Sometimes things happen that are out of our control."

I remain quiet as I take in his words. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. The way he speaks of his mother reminds me of the completely different person that my mother was compared to his.