THIN ICE |BOOK I |BWWM|

•ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 9•

•SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA•

Matías' POV

"Alright, we'll be there." I calmly replaced the curved black telephone to the base and stood up, leaning against the glass-wall window.

It took a few days to arrange a sit down with the Maniscalco family. I didn't ask questions, but the background noise gave me the idea that they were having a crisis. That worried me. If there was any issue it could threaten our meeting and we'd never get a hold of L.A territory.

Surprisingly, Don Franco sounded excited to meet with us -whipped- but excited. No doubt that cancer is chewing through him. It's unfortunate too. Don Franco is one of the most ruthless Dons, but he is more generous than my father or Giuseppe.

Despite that fact, we haven't seen them since the death of Joanna, so I wanted to be as prepared as possible.

"Mat?" My mother's voice hummed through my office door.

"Come in."

The door swung open revealing my mother holding a tray of her Milanesa a la Napolitana.

"You need to eat."

"I need to figure out how I'm going to convince Franco to make a trade."

I ran my hand through my hair as the scent of fried steak and mozzarella tickled my nose.

She stepped forward placing the tray on my coffee table and folded her arms.

I kept my gaze on the large stone fountain in the middle of our backyard flower garden.

My mom lifted my plate in her hand and strolled toward me with a piece of egg on the Sterling silver fork.

She nudged my shoulder, drawing my attention to the food.

"Eat."

I picked the fork from her dainty fingers and took a bite.

Nothing compared to my mother's cooking. She's the best. No one could argue with me, they'd just lose.

The various flavors exploded in my mouth as my mother smirked proudly.

"Can I complement you before you start with that face?"

"What face?"

I stuffed my other cheek and pointed with my pinky, " That one."

"This is the face of a mother happy to see her precious son once again home and eating."

"I was eating in Jersey too Ma."

"What? Your uncle's idea of dinner?" She handed me the plate and sashayed to the chair behind my desk.

"Hey, he makes the best ramen noodles. Don't discount it."

"I suppose you can eat that for the remainder of your visit."

"No!... I think I've... had enough of that."

She threw her head back with laughter, "I thought so."

"Did you put-"

"Daaaaaaddddyyy!" A high pitched yell filtered through the halls into my slightly open door.

I placed my plate on my desk as a mini version of me in a soccer uniform zoomed through the door and straight for my legs.

"Hey Slick!"

I scooped him up in my arms and flooded his face and neck with kisses. He squirmed and giggled as his dimples deepened. He was my twin for sure, but he still looked so much like his mother.