The Mafia King’s Doll

Renzo

While I’m checking the status of all the shipments with Elio, I hear Giulio’s infectious laughter as he spars with Fabrizio and Vincenzo.

“Giulio, it’s no use sparing,” I mutter. “I’ll never make you a guard.”

He stops mid-punch and pulls a disgruntled face. “Come on, Renzo. I’m almost as good as Fabrizio and Vincenzo.”

I let out a snort while Vincenzo says, “You wish.” Just to prove his point, he swipes Giulio’s feet from under him, making him fall on his ass.

Elio’s booming laughter fills the air as he shakes his head, his tone filled with sarcasm as he drawls, “Yeah, you’ve gotten real good.”

With a scowl, Giulio climbs to his feet. “I was caught off guard.”

Getting up from the chair, I say, “Elio, make sure the shipment to China isn’t late. The contract with the Triads is important.”

“Will do, boss.”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

When I walk to the door, Giulio catches up to me. “Where are we going?”

“The restaurant,” I reply as I leave the warehouse.

“For lunch?” he asks. “I’m starving. Sparring with the guys has worked up an appetite.”

I shoot him a glare. “No. To check that everything is running smoothly.

Do you ever not think of food?”

“Of course. When I’m training to become your guard, I don’t think about food at all.”

Letting out a sigh, I say, “You’re my driver, and that’s the end of the discussion.”

Giulio’s only twenty years old. His father, Santino, was my father’s driver until he passed away from a heart attack a couple of years ago. Since then, Giulio’s practically been my shadow, and to keep him busy, I made him my driver.

Growing up, I saw more of Santino than my own father, and I always considered Giulio family.

By being around me, he’s slowly learning everything about the business, and when he’s ready, I’ll make him Elio’s underboss.

I’m close with many people, but Giulio’s like a little brother to me, which means I’m protective of him.

Sure, I care about all my men, but there’s a handful I love like they’re my own blood. Elio, Francisco, Vincenzo, and Giulio are right at the top, along with the other heads of the Cosa Nostra.

Giulio opens the door of the black Bentley, and after I climb inside, he shuts it and hurries around the front of the car to get in behind the steering wheel.

As he drives us away from the warehouse, he’s quiet.

Five minutes away from La Torrisi, the restaurant I opened when I was twenty-one, Giulio asks, “Why?”

Keeping my gaze on the view outside the window, I say, “Why won’t I let you be my guard?”

“Yes.”

“Because it’s my job to protect you. Not vice versa.” “But –”

“Enough, Giulio,” I snap. “Christ.”

When he parks the car in front of the restaurant, his tone is remorseful when he says, “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes meet mine. “I just want to be able to keep you safe.”

Letting out a sigh, I look at him and reply, “And I want to keep you safe. As the oldest between us, it’s my duty.” Leaning forward, I place my hand on his shoulder and give him a squeeze. “I promised your dad I’d look out for you. Let me keep my promise.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, then he nods. “Okay.”

Shoving the car door open, I say, “Come. Let’s get you some food.”

He chuckles as he climbs out, and the moment we walk into the restaurant, I hear Giulio’s stomach growl loudly.

“Place your order, then meet me in the office,” I mutter before leaving Giulio in the main section of the restaurant.

Just as I step into my office, my phone starts to vibrate, and when I pull it out, I see Franco’s name on the screen.

Franco’s one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra. I’m close with Dario, Angelo, and Damiano, but Franco’s my best friend.

Answering with a smile, I say, “Hey. What’s up?”

I hear him yawn before he mutters, “Fuck, I’m going to die of sleep deprivation.”

I chuckle as I take a seat behind my desk, and while I switch on the laptop, I say, “That’s what happens when you have triplets.”

Franco got married a few years ago and has just become a proud father of three beautiful babies. I haven’t seen much of him, because his family takes up all of his time.

Come to think of it, I haven’t seen much of Angelo as well. He’s just as busy with his wife and child.

I’m not the only single one in the group. It doesn’t look like Dario and Damiano will settle down anytime soon, so I still get to hang out with them every other week.

“Yeah-yeah.” Franco yawns again before clearing his throat. “Your shipment reached Peru without any problems.”

“Thanks for the update.” Leaning back in the chair, I ask, “When are we getting together?”

“You can always come over and help with the kids.”

Laughter explodes from me. “I’m going to pass. I don’t do well with crying babies.”

Giulio comes into the office and takes a seat across from me.

Just then, I hear a baby cry on the other end of the phone, and Franco lets out a tired sigh. “Gotta go.”

“Good luck,” I chuckle before ending the call. “Franco?” Giulio asks.

“Yeah. He’s tired as fuck. The triplets are keeping him up.”

Guilio stares at me momentarily, then asks, “Are you ever going to get married and have kids?”

Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the laptop screen. “No.” “But you need an heir to take over when you retire.”

My eyes flick to his face before returning to the screen. “I have Elio.”

Giulio takes a pen from the holder on my desk, and grabbing a sticky note, he starts drawing cartoons. “Yeah, but Elio’s older than you. What if he retires?”

“Christ, you’re just full of questions today,” I mutter.

I open the document listing the restaurant’s stock and check that Alain, the head chef, didn’t order too many ingredients. The fucker once ordered

enough trout to feed an army, and three-quarters of it had to be thrown in the trash.

Giulio leans forward and sticks the little square of paper to the screen before grinning at me.

He drew a cartoon man holding a screaming baby. Chuckling, he says, “That could be your future.”

I rip the sticky note off the screen, and when I attempt to toss it at him, it floats to the desk.

“Stop playing around and learn something.”

I wait for Giulio to scoot his chair to my side of the desk and start explaining the ins and outs of a restaurant’s kitchen.

Not even five minutes later, the fucker yawns before grumbling, “Where’s my food?”

Leveling him with a serious look, I say, “Do you want to be a driver forever?”

He quickly shakes his head. “Of course not.”

“The quicker you learn everything, the faster you’ll get promoted.” His eyebrow lifts. “Promoted?”

I wanted to put off the conversation about Giulio training to take over, but thinking he needs the incentive, I say, “I want to train you to be Elio’s underboss. Think you can handle that?”

Shock tightens his features, and he stares at me for a solid minute as he processes what I just said.

There’s a knock at the door, and I call out, “Come in.”

Sophia, one of the waitresses, enters the office with a tray and comes to set it down on the corner of the desk. Usually, Giulio would flirt with the woman, but he’s still staring at me with a gobsmacked expression.

“Will that be all?” Sophia asks, her eyes glued to Giulio. It’s clear she has the hots for my little brother.

“Yes. You can leave,” I murmur.

When the door shuts behind her, the corner of my mouth lifts as I place my hand on his shoulder. “Now, do you understand why I won’t let you train as a guard?”

Eagerly, he nods, and then his features tighten with emotion. “It’s going to be a lot of hard work,” I warn him.

He nods again, still struck speechless.

I gesture at the tray. “Eat before your food gets cold.”

Giulio’s eyes remain locked on me, and his voice is filled with disbelief as he asks, “You want to make me an underboss?”

“You’re my little brother, Giulio. There’s no one else more suited to take over when Elio and I retire.” I don’t say it often, but it’s common knowledge.

A smile splits across his face, and looking happy as fuck he shoots forward to hug me.

“I won’t disappoint you, Renzo,” he promises, his tone tense. Patting his back, I reply, “I know.”