Always Been You

~Dante’s POV~

What the fuck is he talking about? The last time I checked, I had no relatives. I am not going to waste any more of my time sitting here and listening to their hogwash.

“Lev, get the car ready. I think it’s time for us to leave.” I said, and he nodded, but the man’s bodyguards blocked Lev from getting close to the kids. I do not play with my kids. I will take action against anything that poses a risk to their lives. My kids are the only thing that makes sense in my life right now. I folded my hands and looked at the two men in front of me. If they have something to say to me, they can go ahead and fucking say it instead of looking at me as though I’m this fine art they haven’t seen in their entire lives. I am ready to strike if they fucking make any move.

“Get the kids,” I told Lev; surprisingly, they let him go where the kids were, but the old man stood up and followed Lev. The man got down on his knees just as I was about to strike, and he affectionately touched my daughter’s face. After that, I was able to calm down; when he saw my children, I was sure he was going to start crying. Both Kai and Tyler didn’t appear to enjoy the presence of the man, so they chose to avoid it by walking past him. It seems as though the man is interested in Mia.

“Lei è l’immagine sputata della mia principessa di ghiaccio.” (She is the spitting image of my ice princess.) The man who had been sitting across from me eventually turned his head in their direction, but then he noticed Kai and Tyler.

“They look like you.” When the man did finally speak, his English was marked by an obvious Italian accent. I didn’t answer, and the man went on, “You must be Kai, and you must be Tyler.” I frowned. How the fuck did he know their names and how the fuck did he know who KaI is and Tyler is? Mia was brought back to the table by the elderly man, who then set her down on his lap. He signaled for all of his bodyguards to exit the premises, and then he instructed Lev to take the children with him. Lev chose not to cooperate, but I reassured him that everything was going to be all right. He took the children with him, and now I’m sitting here with the two most terrifying men in the world. The elderly man lobbed three pictures in my direction. After turning them over, I found that the pictures were of June, Candice, and Mason. I threw the pictures on the table and waited for them to tell me what they wanted. Since they got here, the only thing they did was to make me feel their power, but I don’t shudder, never, I am Dante Monroe.

“You’ve been kind, and it drives me crazy when members of my family are kind to people they have no business showing kindness to,” He spoke looking at me dead in the eye, but I just stared at him back because I still don’t know what he wants, and what the fuck does he mean by “family?”

“Mi piace, anche quando ha paura di non darlo a vedere. È un vero Geurra.” (I like him; even when he’s afraid, he doesn’t show it. He is a true Geurra,) says the other man in his late 40s, and the elderly man smiled.

“Why do you let people step on your feet every time they get a chance?” I really don’t know where this conversation is going, but I am not going to answer. The elderly man continued, “I hate it when I talk to people and they just stare at me; I believe I haven’t started running mad, right? Because only mad people talk to themselves.” I couldn’t help but keep staring at him. When I didn’t answer, the older man got up really quickly and pinned me to the table with my two hands at the back. He should fucking tell me what the problem is. The man moved closer to me in an attempt to catch my gaze and whispered, “Odio quando le persone mi mancano di rispetto e tu mi dai sui nervi, ragazzo. Quando ti parlo, mi aspetto che tu risponda. Sono chiaro?” (I hate it when people disrespect me, and you are getting on my nerves, boy. When I talk to you, I expect you to answer. (Am I clear?) I spun around really fast, pinned him the same way he did, and leaned closer.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“I don’t fucking take orders from anyone; you showed up here and started spatting nonsense. Since you got here, you haven’t told me what your problem is. You either tell me your problem or fuck off!” But to my surprise, the other one, who was in his forties, started smirking and cocking his head aside.

“I’m Antonio Guerra, your uncle from Sicily.” What the living hell is he talking about? I know I have never asked my mom where she’s from; her English is fluent, unlike the two men claiming to be her family. The man continued, “And this is your grandfather, Mattia Guerra.” They can go fuck themselves if they expect me to believe that crap because I’m not buying it. I should leave, but somehow I feel like I can trust them. But why? After straightening out my coat, I sat down.

“What do you want?” After I inquired, the man, whose name I have since learned to be Antonio, smiled at me.

“I like you, but I despise it when a Guerra gives in to his feminine tendencies and becomes soft like a woman.” He stated.

What the fuck does he mean? I am not a Guerra; I am a Monroe.

“I am a Monroe. I don’t care what you call yourselves, Guerra, or whoever you are; I don’t give a fuck. I think you got the wrong guy.”

“No, Nephew, and you are going to piss me off. I hate it when people talk to me like they are taking a shit. But I’ll let it pass. Guerras take orders from no one; we order people around to run errands. So now I get why you act so authoritatively; that’s just the Guerra way. However, you are not going to speak unless I ask you to speak; you don’t want to see me pissed. Boy, I bite.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at me intently for what seemed like an indefinite amount of time before finally breaking into a grin when I remained silent. “I take it we have a deal; now you are my sister’s kid. Francesca Guerra now goes by Martha Monroe. ” I froze. My mom had a family, and she didn’t tell me?” Before you give me some annoying looks, I will tell you this: when your mother met that soft, annoying father of yours and ran away from home, your father’s family didn’t approve of her, and they disowned your father. The two moved to New York City and started over. You were born into a rogue lifestyle because both of your parents ran away, but that has changed. I hear someone has been drugging your wife.” I couldn’t stop staring at them; to tell you the truth, they do resemble my mother. When the subject of my wife was brought up, my blood began to boil, and I found myself speaking to them.

“Yea, the idiot wants my wife to believe he’s her fiancé and has made her forget she has kids.”

“What do you want to do with him?” The man claiming to be my uncle asked.

“Pull the trigger.”

“Well, that’s too easy; don’t you want them to suffer the way they made you and your family suffer? A peaceful and painless passing away is far too merciful.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I was supposed to do it, but you are a man, and you need to teach ants how to behave around you. Now we are going to start with that doctor guy,” he said, throwing a file my way.

I went through the file and found out that Mason was stripped of his license a long time ago in Canada because he became obsessed with a married woman, drugged her, and made her pregnant. The name of the woman is Mavis… This is the same woman who always disrespects my wife. What game is Mason playing? I look at the two newfound family favorites and smirk.

“So here is the story. We want Mason not to go to jail. If we report him, he gets to go to jail and the bastard will come back and still do the same shit. We let him know that we know about his little secret and make him a vegetable. When he’s vulnerable, we hit him where it hurts the most, we want him to be a vegetable, drool every time, his mouth must be open for flies to fly in and out of it, he must sit in a wheelchair for the rest of his life and shit and piss on himself every time nature calls and you are going to do it yourself, with our help.”

I think I’m going to love the Guerras.

When I didn’t say anything, he went on, “I have a condition.” I looked up for him to tell me the condition, “Don’t tell your mom anything about this and I get to play chess with you every month. You name the place and time of your choice. And don’t you dare fucking tell me you can’t play chess and poker.” I smiled at him, I am ready to fuck Mason up.