The Life

Dilemma

"I know the Varashano brothers when I see it, and this is them, Marillo. Weapon shipments don't just go missing. They get stolen, and I know who stole them." Dante stated as he stood by the fireplace in his office, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

"Are we sure, brother, because once we take this to papa, whatever happens, is out of our control," Marillo asked, sitting at his brother's desk pouring over the files. "You know how our family feels about this family. Whatever we do is bound to start a war."

"It's always in your control, brother, that where you are wrong. Never let the enemy think they have the upper hand over you. That is the moment you lose. Do you understand?" Dante asked, placing his glace on top of the ledge the hung over the chimney, never letting his gaze leave the fire that burned in the fireplace.

"Yes, I understand." Marillo nodded in understanding. "So when will we take this to papa?"

"The Varashano's know better than to mess with us again after Talia, and for some reason, they decide to do just that. They deserve whatever is coming to them and more. Set the meeting for tomorrow. I have to take Christopher home anyway."

"Copy that." He answered, packing up the files that contained information regarding the shipment of weapons. "I heard you were watching Christopher. Layla told me you were picking him up." Marillo smiled lightly. He loved his nephew. Unfortunately, his work, much like Dante's, left little time to see him.

"Is that all she told you?" Dante asked, knowing what was coming next from his brother.

"You could stand to be nicer to her. She lost someone she cared for the same way we did. They were best friends."

"And she was our sister Marillo. There is no compression." Dante cut in sternly.

"She takes care of her child Dante." He tried to reason, "She is reminded of her every day. You don't have to like much less care about her anymore but for Christopher's sake, tolerate her. Mama and papa do, they let her live in the house, and they have taken a liking to her. I know it's hard, brother, but you need to let some of the hurt go and stop feeling so guilty. There is no way you could have to know what would happen. We all wished we could have saved her."

"Enough, Marillo, focus on the meeting tomorrow with papa, not my feelings. I assure you I can handle myself just fine." Dante dismissed his brother.

"Alright, well, I'm going to peek in on Christopher, then head out. I'll see you tomorrow." Marillo took one last swig of his drink, then got up and left. Dante remained by the fireplace watching the fire as a multitude of emotions floated through his head. He knew nothing good would come of this meeting with his father, and he was always ready to shed the blood of the Varashano family.

"Uncle Dante, do I have to go home today?" Christopher whined from his seat on the island as Dante stood in the kitchen, attempting to make the little boy breakfast.

"Si piccolo, I must work, and you know your nonna misses you."

"I miss you more, uncle." Christopher poked his lip out and pleaded.

"Very cute, but it's not going to work. Let's go eat your breakfast." He smirked, placing a plate of weirdly shaped pancake in front of him.

"Zio, what is this? It doesn't look very good." Christopher frowned, scrunching his face up.

"Oh, come on, it's pancakes. You cant tell?"

"Unh unh, it doesn't look like Nonna's pancakes. Her's don't look burnt." He shot back, waving his finger at his uncle

"Well, then I'll take you home so you can eat Nonna's pancakes. How about the mister picky. Let's go." Dante chuckled, removing the pancakes from in front of the boy and helping him down from the island. "Go get your stuff piccolo and meet in the foyer in 10 minutes." The little boy pitter-pattered away to go collect his belongings.