Page 138 of Marcello

“I manage a small hotel,” I said.

I definitely managed all the crew’s practice sessions for breaking down doors and shooting people, that much was true.

Although I upgraded it to a hotel because a motel didn’t sound impressive enough.

“Why didn’t we go there?” she asked.

“It’s not nice enough.”

Which was very true. Unless she didn’t mind moldy walls and broken windows.

“Plus, I don’t want to mix business and pleasure,” I added.

The truest thing I’d said so far.

“How do you like it?” she asked. “Managing a hotel?”

“It’s boring as hell,” I said.

I figured that was better than, It’s stressful as hell, and I keep trying not to get shot by my boss.

“Why do you do it, then?”

Because otherwise ANOTHER gangster will kill my mother, brother, and sister.

“Gotta make a living somehow,” I said.

“What would you do if you didn’t have to make a living?”

I sat back in my chair with a mildly surprised look on my face. I’d been in survival mode so long, I’d never even bothered to consider what I might do if I ever got free of Cesare and Fausto.

After I thought about it for a few seconds, I said, “I think I’d travel… but eventually I’d want to settle down and have a family. I went to university in Florence for business, so I’d probably use that. Maybe start a business of my own.”

“A hotel of your own?” she suggested.

“No,” I said flatly. “No more hotels.”

EVER.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked.

“I don’t,” she said un-self-consciously. “I just live at home.”

“With an overprotective father,” I suggested.

“Very overprotective.”

“So… you don’t want to go to university or anything?” I asked, slightly dismayed. I didn’t like the idea of being with a woman who just lay around the house all day doing nothing but watching Netflix.

I guess that was hypocritical, seeing as I was a gangster who hung around murderers and psychopaths. Doing nothing but watching TV all day was way higher above me on the ladder of moral and social respectability.

However, I’d been forced into doing it – and I would leave it all behind in a second if I could.

Giulietta surprised me, though.

“I would love to go to university,” she said longingly. “LOVE to. But… I can’t.”

I frowned. “Your father won’t let you?”