~Chapter 69~
"Roo, vieni qui e mangia! Roo, co here and eat!" nonna exclaid as soon as she saw walking back into the dinner hall, freshly bathed and changed.
I flashed her a wryly smile and made my way over to her, bending down to kiss her cheek.
"Sono qui, Nonna. Dai, devi calmarti. I’m here, Grandma. Co on, you need to chill." I said, trying to calm her.
My grandmother was a force to be reckoned with, and when she got worked up, it was best to just ride out the storm.
I walked over to the head seat, the one reserved for the family head, and took a seat.
The chair was ornate and heavy, carved from solid wood and adorned with intricate patterns. I settled into it, feeling the weight of my family’s legacy settling onto my shoulders.
Just like always.
We began eating in silence but my nonna watched with disapproval all over her face and eyes and I ignored her, focusing instead on the food in front of .
The tension between us was always high, but i didn’t really give a fuck about her disapproval as I need the peace, at least for now.
But as every other ti it was inevitable, so I steeled myself, dreading the conversation that was about to co.
I counted down the seconds, bracing for the impact. Three...two...one...and "Piccolo," Now!
my grandmother said, low and even, but with a hint of steel beneath the surface.
Damn, she was fast, I thought, as she launched straight into the heart of the matter.
"Why did you cut off four fingers from your only cousin?" she asked, her eyes boring into mine and I raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance, but inside, I was taken aback.
I was surprised, not just by the directness of her question, but also by the fact that this wasn’t the topic I thought she was going to dive in.
I wasn’t expecting this conversation, not by a long shot. It wasn’t even a significant topic, just a minor blip on the radar of our family’s complex web of alliances and rivalries.
But, apparently, my grandmother had other ideas.
My foolish cousin, Adelasia, was a few bricks short of a load, if you know what I an.
She had a knack for being so stupid, and this particular incident was a pri example. I had brought soone as an enemy, soone who was here as a slave.
And not just that this person had, in fact, smashed a vase over Alessia’s head during a fight. I had watched the whole thing go down on the CCTV footage, and, I’ll admit, it was pretty entertaining.
But what really took the cake was when Alessia suddenly developed a convenient case of mory loss.
I an, co on, who forgets getting smashed in the head with a vase? It was almost as if she wanted to forget, wanted to erase the whole incident from her mind.
And, honestly, I didn’t care enough to address it. But, apparently, if I had, Katya wouldn’t have escaped.
$&-$-$
"I used her fingers to count how many days soone escaped," I said nonchalantly, taking a sip from my wine glass as I side-eyed my grandmother.
"No big deal" Her expression turned red, eyes widening in horror as she slamd her palm onto the table.
Hard!
"No big deal?" she questioned and I shrugged, looking at her with a "what’s the fuss about?" expression, as if to say, "Co on, grandma, it’s not really that big of a deal."
And not to talk about the reason. I had my reasons, after all. And I honestly thought my grandmother should be proud of , not angry. I an, I had shown restraint, hadn’t I?
I had tried my best not to kill Adelasia, despite her stupidity and carelessness. I had only cut off four fingers, after all. It could have been much worse.
She should be fucking proud I didn’t kill a family mber.
Sighing again, my nonna’s shoulders sagged like she was soo disappointed. She should calm the f down, I don’t need her getting a heart attack about so insignificant person.
Adelasia was just a minor player in our family’s business. She wasn’t worth getting worked up over.
"Roo, you can’t continue like this," Nonna said softly and this was the real speech I had been waiting for, the one where she would try to lecture about the error of my ways and the importance of finding a more "respectable" path in life.
"Then how should I continue, hmm?" A wry smile spread across my face as I raised an eyebrow, asking.
"I was born into this, grandma, and I’m going to die with it." The words that flowed out of my mouth was just reminder of the truth that we both knew.
I had been born into this life of power and violence, and I would never be able to escape it.
My family’s legacy was a double-edged sword, one that brought us wealth and influence, but also danger and bloodshed.
And I was a part of it, whether I liked it or not. So, why did my grandmother always co at with the sa speech, the sa tired warnings and lectures, when she knew that my answer would always be the sa?
My grandmother dropped her utensils on the table, barely choking out the words with so much emotions. "And if you die."
She paused, collecting herself before continuing. "Who would take over for you, Piccolo?" Her eyes searched mine for answers.
I stared back at her. Hoping she isn’t hinting at what I think she’s hinting at. But her next words confird my worst fears.
"When are you going to take a bride?" she stopped, tapping her hands. "You need an heir, Roo." She tried to reach out to , her shaky hands extending across the table, but I quickly moved mine out of reach.
What the actual fuck!
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