Family Business

Smarting

EJ's pov

Shortly after I send Claire upstairs to her room, my father returns home and finds me in the study.

Walking up to me, he asks, "How did your meeting go this afternoon, Son?"

I instinctively tense up a little before responding, "Fine, Father, there were no issues."

His back is to me now as he pours himself a snifter of brandy so I'm unaware of his mood until I hear him question coldly, "Really? There were no issues, despite my eleven-year-old granddaughter joining you?"

"Father, I..."

Before I can even start explaining, my father turns around and slaps me hard across the face. I reach up to rub the sting from my cheek but remain silent as he lays into me.

"STUPIDO IDIOTA (YOU STUPID IDIOT)! COME HAI POTUTO METTERE IN PERICOLO TUA NIPOTE (HOW COULD YOU PUT YOUR NIECE IN DANGER)? COSA STAVI PENSANDO (WHAT WERE YOU THINKING)?" he yelled.

Sighing, I tried to appease him.

"Non ho portato la ragazza con me, Padre (I didn't take the girl with me, Father). Si è nascosta in macchina (She hid in the car). Non avevo realizzato lei fosse lì (I didn't realize she was there)."

"Oh, so it's the eleven-year-old girl's fault that you were so careless in your preparations?" he questioned sarcastically. "È un mio errore, Figlio (It's my mistake, Son). Per favore perdonami per la mia ignoranza (Please forgive me for my ignorance)," he continued to mock me with his faux apology.

"Non è quello che intendevo, Padre (That's not what I meant, Father). So di essere in colpa (I know I am at fault)."

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT YOU ARE, SON!" Father slapped me hard again across the other cheek as he backhanded me. "ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR ACTIONS, MIO FIGLIO (MY SON), AND DON'T YOU EVER ALLOW SOMETHING SO RECKLESS LIKE THIS TO HAPPEN AGAIN. NOT EVER! CAPISCIMI (UNDERSTAND ME)?" he shouted, shattering his snifter into pieces as he angrily threw it into the fireplace. "Devi essere meglio preparato e prestare maggiore attenzione, mio figlio, prima che qualcuno venga ucciso (You need to be better prepared and pay closer attention, my son, before someone gets killed)."

"Sì, Padre, capisco (Yes, Father, I understand)."

"Buono (Good). Non voglio avere di nuovo questa conversazione (I don't want to have this conversation again)." My father raised one eyebrow in a warning gesture.

"It won't happen again, Father. I will make sure of it. I will be more careful and she will be severely punished," I said, to assure him I understood the gravity of the situation.

"Where is my granddaughter now?" he asked, still not entirely convinced I had the situation under control.

"She's upstairs in her room."

"Do I need to have a word with her?" he asked, as a means to question my authority.

"No, sir, I will handle it. You can trust me," I replied confidently, meeting his gaze, my line of sight never wavering.

"Can I, Son? Because I'm starting to have my doubts about your capabilities and decision making processes. Your carelessness and inattention to detail may cause a fatal error someday..." My father held his hand flush against the side of my face before continuing, "and that, my dear boy, is unacceptable in this business." He patted my tender cheek firmly, then walked out.

After finishing my drink and taking a few more minutes to compose myself, I went upstairs to deal with my bratty niece. I knocked once before entering.

Seeing her lying down on her bed, I barked, "Sit up! We need to talk."

She hesitantly complied, sitting on the edge of her bed, making me well aware she was unhappy about doing it.