The Don's Deadliest Obsession

Sometimes, like now, I wonder if she looks at me and sees my father staring back at her.

The thought makes something ugly twist inside my chest.

”You can’t go cutting people’s private parts off, Lysander. I didn’t raise you that way.”

I exhale through my nose, leaning back in my chair.

”Like I said, Ma, it was a one-time thing. And it was because Nerissa...”

”I don’t care if it was about me!, Lysander.”

Her interruption catches me off guard.

She straightens on the sofa, looking at me with that familiar expression of disapproval I have known since childhood.

”You are the Don of this household now. You carry the name of this family, and your actions affect more than just you. You cannot go around behaving like that whenever someone upsets you.”

My jaw tightens.

Whenever someone upsets me? Is that what she thinks happened? That I woke up one morning, decided I was bored, and chose to cut off a man’s dick for entertainment?

I have killed men for less than what Kelvin did to Nerissa. Men who threatened my family, men who betrayed my trust, men who thought their money or connections made them untouchable.

But Kelvin?

That bastard put his hands on a girl who couldn’t defend herself, took what he wanted, and left her to live with the consequences. Then he allowed her humiliation to follow her for years, as though her suffering was some amusing story he could pull out whenever he pleased.

Perhaps my methods were extreme, perhaps cutting off his cock and sending it to my wife in a gift box wasn’t exactly the sort of thing a reasonable husband would do.

But I have never claimed to be a reasonable man.

My mother continues.....

”Now, I’m sorry to hear about whatever squabble Nerissa has with that man. But he is an important business associate, and you will not.....”

”And she is my WIFE!”

I roar.

Silence crashes over the room.

”She’s my wife, Ma.”

My voice is lower now, but the anger in it has not diminished.

”And I don’t care if I’m the Don of this household. I will not stand by and let someone disrespect my wife. I will not!”

If a pin dropped right now, every person in this house would hear it.

I can feel my heartbeat pounding against my ribs. My temper has always been a dangerous thing, but there are very few people who can make me lose control of it without even trying.

My mother is one of them.

I stare at her, waiting.....Waiting for the reprimand.

For the disappointed shake of her head.

Instead, she slowly rises from the sofa and walks toward me.

I remain perfectly still.

For one brief moment, I think she is going to slap me.

I wouldn’t stop her. She is the only person in this world who could raise her hand against me without suffering a single consequence for it.

If she wanted to slap me now, I would let her.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she lifts her hand and gently pats my cheek.

The same way she used to when I was a little boy.

My anger falters and I look down at her, confused by the tenderness in her touch, and then I notice her eyes.

They’re shining, tears are gathering along her lower lashes, and for a moment, I genuinely don’t know what to do.

”Ma?”

Her lips tremble into a smile.

”My baby boy...”

She reaches for me, wrapping her arms around my waist and drawing me toward her.

”I’m glad you’re not like your father after all.”

I freeze.

The words settle somewhere deep inside me, somewhere I have spent years pretending doesn’t exist.

She rises onto her toes and kisses one cheek, then the other.

I stand there, completely motionless, with my hands hovering awkwardly at my sides.

What the hell is happening?

My mother pulls back just enough to look at me.

”Your father never did that for me,” she whispers. ”He never stood up for me.

Her fingers brush my cheek.

”But you...”

She swallows, and another tear slips down her face.

”I’m glad you would stand up for your wife.”

I don’t know what to say.

I have faced men with guns pointed at my head without feeling half as uncomfortable as I do standing in front of my mother right now.

She smiles through her tears.

”Even though you used a completely unnecessary means of expressing yourself.”

I almost laugh.

”Ma...”

”No, let me finish.”

She pats my cheek again.

”I’m proud of you, boy.”

For a moment, I cannot breathe properly.

She’s....she’s proud of me.

I am the Don. I have men who would die at my command, enemies who fear the sound of my name, and enough money to buy things most people can only dream of. None of it has ever mattered as much as those two words coming from her mouth.

I look away, clearing my throat.

My mother laughs softly, wiping at her eyes.

”Oh, don’t look so uncomfortable. You’d think I’d just confessed to a crime.”

”You are making this unnecessarily emotional.”

From behind us, Jeremiah lets out a snicker.

I turn my head slowly towards hin and he immediately looks away.

”Something funny?”

”No, Don. Nothing at all.”

My mother sighs, shaking her head at the both of us before reaching for her handbag.

I step aside to let her pass, still trying to process the conversation we’ve just had.

Then she pauses near the doorway and looks back at me.

”I’ll try to curb the pressure at the board. But Councilman Accardo is hosting a gala in two days, and I expect you to be there to offer your apologies.”

My expression falls.

”I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.”

”Ma, I am not apologizing to that man because his son....”

”I don’t want to hear it.”

She raises a hand, silencing me before I can finish.

”My personal assistant will send you the details. You will attend that gala with your wife.”

I stare at her.

”Ma...”

”No, Lysander. You have made a mess, and now you will make an appearance and help me clean it up.”

I open my mouth to argue but she gives me one look and I close it.

Then, from somewhere behind me, Jeremiah snickers again.

My mother turns her head.

”You too, Jeremiah.”

His amusement vanishes.

”Me? But why?.”

”Yes, you. And bring your sister along.”

Jeremiah straightens.

”Yes, Ma.”

She nods once, satisfied, and walks out of the room, leaving the two of us standing in stunned silence.

I drag a hand down my face, this is going to be a fucking disaster.