Morally Blasphemous: A Dark Mafia Romance by Veronica Lancet

Author:Veronica Lancet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: antique
Publisher: Veronica Lancet
Published: 2021-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

"Right." Franco reluctantly agrees.

"Why don't you let your wife join the other women, and we can talk some business?" Benedicto nods towards the gaggle of women chatting at a nearby table.

I don't want Catalina anywhere out of my sight, so I try to respectfully decline.

"I'm not sure she would be comfortable."

"Bah!" Benedicto exclaims, and yells at one woman.

"Cosima, come here."

A woman in her forties joins us, sticking herself to Benedicto's side.

"What's wrong, amore?"

"Why don't you take Signora Lastra and introduce her to everyone."

Cosima narrows her eyes at Catalina, and she doesn't seem too interested. But she puts on a smile and addresses her, anyway.

"Catalina, I'm Cosima."

My wife gives me a reassuring nod and moves to go to Cosima.

"Will you be ok?" I whisper in her hair, afraid to let her go.

"I'll be fine." She answers confidently.

"You know what to do if anything happens." I remind her. We'd gone over every possibility in preparation for this evening, and I'd given her a panic button. If she felt threatened in any way, she should push the button and it will make enough noise to alert everyone in her vicinity.

Already I have to grit my teeth and let her go, but I know that we need to follow a certain etiquette.

Just as Lina leaves with Cosima, a drunk Michele stumbles towards us. He's carrying a half-empty bottle of Jack.

"Look at them love birds. He can't bear to be separated from her." He slurs and puts his hand on his father's shoulder.

Suddenly I can feel the tension in the air.

"You should take lessons, papa dear."

"Michele." His brother hisses from behind him.

"Oh, there's the retard. I have to wonder why you organized this, capo." Michele's words are full of venom. "Did you perhaps want to showcase to the world that your eldest is a drunk," he smiles sarcastically, "while your heir is a fucking retard." His emphasis on heir doesn't escape me.

"D-d-don't sss... sp..speak t-to fa...father l-like that." Rafaelo stammers as he grabs onto Michele.

"Both of you, cut it out!" Benedicto finally intervenes.

"Yes, Raf, stop talking. You'll show everyone you got dropped on your head at birth." Michele says in a mocking tone, and his brother's head is hung low in shame. Surprisingly enough, he takes the insult without as much as batting an eyelash.

"I'm s-s-sorry." He replies, and I realize he might have a stutter. That doesn't make someone a retard.

Odd, though. When I'd known them years ago, Rafaelo hadn't had a stutter. Or maybe I'm not remembering correctly.

"See," Michele laughs, and pats his brother on the shoulder. Rafaelo squares his shoulders and lowers his gaze in a submissive gesture.

"Enough!" Benedicto removes Michele's hand and bends it awkwardly.

"Afraid people might think less of you when they find out your heir is touched in the head?" He laughs in derision and extricates himself from his father's hold.

"Fucking assholes. Cazzo di merda!" Michele yells some expletives but removes himself from the situation, simply by going to the next available table and grabbing more alcohol.

"You must excuse my son.

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