27
fingers crossed
"You know I don't want anything extravagant." Damocles crossed his arms above his chest and leaned his hip on the desk with his foot crossed over the other.
I shook my head.
Here I was, all alone, without Stavros who fled to Mexico for who know's what, in the middle of my father's office that had been occupied by my cousin since he hid. Dropping the stacks of prints, I slid one up to face him. His eyes fall to the paper before landing on mine.
"Why are you planning for this, you know our family does no coronations." Slapping the paper down his chest, he almost topples over. "And, for one, I'm not head of the family. Unless you're fucktard father comes out of his hiding place, I'll never get the trust of the men." My shoulder sag. His eyebrows lift up in persuasion, lips pursed as I recollect my thoughts.
Trust is a big issue. The coronation's practically useless without the men trusting their new leader. You can never promote yourself without the previous head campaigning with you. That, and the amount of people who are within realm of possibility of assassinating you; or to dethrone you in more safe terms. Though, I couldn't help but come to thought with: me campaigning for my cousin. No one had ever done that before. Maybe, just maybe, I could pull some strings and so in the shoes of my father. I am his daughter, after all... even if he's one of my greatest fears now. With hopeful eyes and a pouted lip, I swirl around to face my cousin on bent knees. Letting out an extended plead.
Damocles wiped a hand up his face, disbelief shone in his hazel eyes. "You are, impossible. I kid you not. No, Vernamina."
"You'll be taking over once he's done with his folly anyways!" I persuade. "Our allies are doubting our power, they might pull back their—"
"They won't."
"How would you know—"
"How would you?" I tucked in my lower lip. "You're not the one in meetings, who told you this?" My vision wanders to every corner in the room, refusing to meet his eyes and question.
In my mind, I cursed the lack of control I had over my words. He was never meant to know that I had snuck in during the night. But, what did he expect? They had the meetings in the manor, surely he would've known that I might eavesdrop. The night before Stavros' flight to Mexico; all men under the Dimitrious name were there. My Koenig had just gone home and I couldn't will myself to fall asleep. Tossing and turning did me no good, deciding to just roam around the halls to tire myself into slumber.
The dark and cold night on display as the moon lit the room along with the scintillating balls of fire, loud chatters of men filled my ears; arguments and shouting. Could it be another meeting? The fact that I decided to snoop around in my silk night gown, is beyond me. My instincts pushed me to, as well as my need to be aware.
"Damocles, we all know of what happened. What we're asking is what happened to the shipments and the loans, your theios would have hid them somewhere. Our clients are demanding a refund, the Vizziellos are impatient." A man, that could pass as one of those made men in the Godfather, asked. He must be one of the associates.
Smoke wafts up my nose, I clamp down both hands on my mouth to lessen the sound of my coughs. Who the heck told them they could smoke?
"I say, someone sabotaged us!" Hemeros Diapoulas, I knew him. He's the kapo of the Diapoulas family. He's in-charge of the oil smuggling and such, Cloira has told me many stories of the men in this room. "The petrol company hasn't been doin' well, échoun lathraía ta leftá mou!"
"Damocles, are you even fit to lead?"
"There are lives out stake, we cannot just sit around as we wait for Estevan to come out of his hole. We need to plan!"
"How can he leave us with his nephew."
"Oi ántres mas apó ti sfagí, pós boreíte na kathísete kai na min kánoun típota ?!"
"The Germanós are coming fort, they've sniffed out who killed Duibhin."
"It's been years and they've only got into action, now? They killed Zanier Elikini! It's only fair—"
A burly man silences the voices of the men, Damocles pinched the bridge of his nose in sign of stress. "Everyone, shut the fuck up." He puffs out wind of smoke from the thick roll of tobacco in between his index and middle finger. "Voice your concerns overmorrow, clear out your anger before coming here again. Damocles, it's been a pleasure." He stood up from his seat and made his way to the door.
My heart raced as I jumped in panic, suddenly my feet couldn't move and I'm glued to the floor. My body froze as heavy footsteps echoed out the hall. In the midst of fright and anxiousness, I indelibly mustered all the bad luck in the world at times like this. I held in my breathe as the steps came to a halt. Exhaling to have heard my cousin call the man, I retreated to my room. Though many questions ruled my mind, I succumbed into the darkness of sleep.
Damocles' narrowed eyes fiddled with my answer, my tongue in a knot as I purvey the right words to say. I knew for a fact that he won't take an excuse such as: the helps told me, or, Stavros told me. Him and I both knew that his friend won't do that. He'd be the first one to be opposed to the idea of me getting involved, what more of me knowing all of the issues they discuss in summits?
"Well, explain yourself." His eyes tilt down and ran back up again to meet my own guilt-filled ones. Averting my vision at the window, I bunch up a ball of fabric from the hem of my sweater.
"U-uhm, well..." I scratch the side of my forehead, "I may or may not have snooped in." My mumbles were as quite as the wind.
"Vernamina Elixir."
The solemn and cold tone in his voice piled on my anxious state. I didn't like him using that tone, it meant scolding and a whole lot of restrictions. Even if I try to reason out, he won't heed to my attention. Something him and my father had in common when it comes to oi mafiózoi. They were strict of my knowledge to the business, specially with the issues.
"Alright, I won't eavesdrop anymore." I promise to which he nods his head in approval. A stern look on his face as he orders me back to my room.
"You better not, young lady."
A grin of triumph on my lips as I walk away from the office door, greeting the help on my way out. Taking off my sweatshirt once O got inside my room.
Little does he know, I had my fingers crossed the whole time.