THE WRATH OF THE MAFIA KING'S HIDDEN SON

4. THE UNSCRIPTED SCRIPT

Ryan's POV

Claire and her relatives had always known how to press the right buttons with me. It was never loud demands or open threats, but carefully chosen words and calculated glances that left me with no room to refuse.

They would smile, speak of family, of obligation, of how it was “the right thing to do,” and I would agree without hesitation. I told myself it was easier this way, that keeping the peace was worth the quiet bitterness that followed.

I never noticed the pattern until Sarah subconsciously showed me how I had been used all these while.

None of them ever stood up for me, none of them ever hugged me and thanked me for the services I rendered to them.

Such pathetic fools.

And for the first time,, I wondered what would happen if I said no—and the thought did not feel like a sin.

“What did you say?” Caleb asked.

I took a long look at Caleb. “I said no,” I replied and I watched Sarah smile.

“Sarah! Stop this! There is no one to protect us now!” He yelled under his breath.

And deep in my mind, I solidified within me that nothing will ever happen to his family.

Suddenly, Caleb and his sister, Carol took my hands. Forcefully, dragging me to where the glasses of wine were placed.

They pushed me towards the table, but I had good reflexes and pushed both of them as they bumped into the glasses of wine, shattering everything on the table.

Sarah laughed out loud and for no reason, I was happy with myself.

“Ryan! I'll make sure you suffer for this!” Benita yelled.

Claire walked towards me and raised up her hand to slap me, but something held her — No, someone held her hand and it was Sarah.

“Respect the dead, Miss Claire.” She said, pushing her hand away.

The servants cleaned the place again and replaced the wine. Shortly afterwards the guards of the late mafia king entered with my guardian leading them and he took to the stage.

“I heard what happened here,” He began and stared at me.

Oh fuck! Don't announce! I'll kill you if you do. I gently shook my head, signaling not to say anything that would expose me.

“You,” He pointed at me and for no reason, my heartbeat became fast. “What's your name? And who invited you?” He asked.

“I invited him and his name is Ryan.” Sarah responded before I could say anything.

“I didn't ask you Miss. Sarah.” My guardian glared at her then at me. “Is that your name?”

I nodded my head slowly. “Would you care to explain what happened?” He asked.

I stared at Benita and then at Claire. “We came here to mourn the dead, not explain why adults were fighting.” I replied.

Everyone gasped and murmured. I'm sure they didn't believe I'd talk to the mafia's right hand man like that.

“Do you know who I am?” He asked.

Oh, I love this unscripted script he is playing…

“The guardian to the late mafia king's son?” I replied.

Even though I gave so much detail, I knew no one would expect me to be that hidden son.

“Yes, exactly. That's why I made sure Sarah invited you here as you would be the person to search for this son for us.”

Huh?

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You have been given a task and you need to fulfill it if you want to live peacefully.” He announced and focused on the crowd while he addressed them.

Shortly, two of my father’s old guards, men who had worked for him for years, took me outside to the back of the building. They didn’t say much. They just walked on either side of me like I was some sort of criminal they were escorting.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sarah trying to follow us, but they blocked her. She called my name, but I didn’t respond. I figured I’d be back soon anyway.

We stopped near a black SUV parked behind the place. My guardian came out after a few minutes. His face was serious, but that was nothing new. He always looked like that.

He didn’t waste time. He told me straight. “I have thought about it and I need you to take over your father's position.”

“No,” I responded immediately without cooling his words.

I wasn’t going to take over my father’s legacy. The empire my father had built, the connections, the power? It wasn’t going to be mine.

“You can manage them yourself or make everything yours and get it over with.” I added.

He reached out and smacked the back of my head. Not hard, but enough to make me blink.

“Why the hell would I do that?” he asked.

I stared at him, annoyed. “What are you talking about? You either keep it, or I take it. What’s the problem?”

He sighed and reached into his coat, pulling out a pen. It looked normal, but I knew nothing was ever just normal with him. He handed it to me.

“If you ever change your mind,” he said, “press the button at the top. Someone will come for you.”

I didn’t even take it. “I won’t be needing it,” I told him. “I like the life I’m living right now. I don’t want to get tangled up with the enemies my father left behind.”

“Everything about life is war,” he replied flatly.

“My father was murdered,” I said, looking him in the eye, “but I’m still alive. I run my own business, and it’s doing well. I don’t need anything more than that.”

He shook his head, like he knew I’d regret it someday. But I knew myself. No one was going to convince me otherwise. I wasn’t about to inherit his war.

When I walked back inside, Sarah was still there. I asked for her number. She gave it without hesitation.

She started telling me about my father, starting from how he had protected her family and her business from enemies. She said she hoped I’d find the son who could replace the mafia king.

She meant well, but inside I knew that would never happen. That son she was talking about was me, and I wasn’t stepping into that role.

She looked at me and asked, “You want to get out of here?”

I glanced over at the massive portrait of my father hanging on the wall. He looked larger than life in it. Then I turned to her and said, “Okay.”

We ended up at a bar. It wasn’t fancy, but it was quiet enough to talk. We ordered drinks.

She talked a lot about my father. The way she spoke, you’d think he was some saint. She said he was good to the people he cared about.

I started asking questions.

“How long have you known him?” I asked.

“Since I was sixteen,” she said. “He was already established by then.”

*More than established.* I said within me.

“Have you ever seen him lose his temper?”

“Of course. But never without reason. He didn’t waste anger on pointless things.”

“Did he ever hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it?”

She hesitated. “Not that I know of. He was careful with who he punished.”

I nodded, but inside I was thinking, if he was that good to everyone else, why did he beat my mom? Why did he make our home hell? Why didn't he have my time when I was a kid?

I was still lost in my thoughts when Sarah’s phone rang. She excused herself and stepped away to answer it.

Left alone, I finished my drink in one gulp. That’s when I noticed someone in the corner of the bar and my heart seemed to stop.

It was someone I knew. Someone I loved. Someone I thought was dead.

My mother.

I thought maybe I was imagining it, but I don’t believe in hallucinations. I set my glass down and got up, walking toward her.

Before I could take more than a few steps, Sarah came back and grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” she asked.

I glanced at her, then back toward where I’d seen my mother, but the spot was empty. She was gone.

“Did you see someone standing there?” I asked, pointing.

Sarah looked at the spot and shook her head. “No.”

I sat back down with her, but my mind wasn’t on the conversation anymore. I knew what I saw.

We ordered one more shot each. I tried to distract myself, so I asked, “You never said where you work.”

She smiled. “I’m the CEO of DuneForge Tech.”

I nearly dropped my glass. “Since when?"

“Over four months now,” she said.

I felt stupid for a moment. I’d been so wrapped up in helping Claire’s family business that I hadn’t even checked in on my own company. Four months. I didn’t even know the CEO changed?

Then another thought hit me. Maybe this could be the first step in taking down the Harrington family’s business. I smirked at the idea, sipping my drink.

Sarah caught it. “Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

I kept drinking, but my mind was running in ten different directions. My father’s legacy, my mother’s face, Sarah’s position so as to take down the Harrington's, and the Harringtons themselves.

These were all pieces of a puzzle I didn’t want to put together yet.

But I knew one thing for sure. I wasn’t going to let anyone drag me into my father’s world.