A Father's Curiosity
The tranquil strains of classical music filled the restaurant. Among the rows of empty seats, only one table was strangely occupied.
“Father.”
At the sound of that voice, the elderly man with platinum-blond hair lifted his head. Despite his age, he possessed a charismatic appearance, and his eyes gleamed a golden hue—close to the exact amber-gold of Tezman’s own.
He was one of the mafia dons who held Europe in his grasp, the master of the illustrious Pavard Family. Michele von Pavard.
“Sit.”
At Michele’s command, Mateo quietly took the seat across from him. The moment Mateo sat down, Michele raised his hand and flicked his index finger. From a distance, his secretary Luca, who had been waiting, approached. Without looking at him, Michele spoke to Luca, who now stood behind him.
“Tezman?”
“He left the estate just a short while ago, sir.”
Michele nodded, then spoke again.
“I suppose we should start with the soup. Getting old means I can’t stand being hungry anymore.”
At Luca’s glance toward the kitchen, the chef inside immediately began preparing the soup. Michele hated noise. And once a month, he enjoyed dining outside with his two sons—on those occasions, he would always rent out the entire restaurant.
The chef soon appeared, carrying a plate of soup himself.
“This is a soup centered on truffles and asparagus, which you favor, sir Michele.”
Unlike the visibly tense chef, Michele leisurely moved his spoon toward the soup placed before him.
“Mm, not bad.”
Only then did the chef’s tightly wound expression brighten. Luca gave him a look that clearly said to return to the kitchen, and the chef promptly retreated.
Having served Michele for nearly thirty years, Luca could now read his every need. With his task complete, Luca stepped back to a respectful distance behind Michele.
Michele raised his head and jerked his chin toward Mateo.
“Eat.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mateo picked up his spoon. No matter that this man was his father, he was the boss. That was why Mateo found Michele difficult to approach. Tezman, on the other hand, never seemed to care. That was probably why he could show up late to a meal like this.
Just as Mateo lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth—
“Luca told me an interesting story.”
Interesting story. The phrase carried two meanings. Either something genuinely amusing had happened, or he was so angry it had become entertaining. Mateo was trying to gauge which one Michele meant.
Michele let out a hearty laugh.
“I thought for a moment Tezman had turned gay. The way he looked at women like they were stones.”
The smile spreading across his lips made it clear this was not the latter case.
“Mateo.”
“Yes, Father.”
“I hear a woman has appeared in Tezman’s life?”
There was no way Michele wouldn’t know something Mateo was already aware of. It was no exaggeration to say that everything that happened within the Pavard Family eventually reached Michele’s ears, no matter how well it was hidden.
“It seems so.”
At Mateo’s reply, Michele burst into laughter once more.
“That’s a relief. It is a relief, but… the other party, you see.”
The smile that had filled Michele’s face only moments ago vanished in an instant.
“An Asian nun, was it?”
He was not a racist, but the reason Michele despised Asian women was because of Tezman’s biological mother.
She had been half Italian and half Korean, yet her appearance was so strikingly East Asian that one would never guess she was mixed. That exotic look had been part of what drew Michele to her.
Their relationship began when he saved her from danger while she was working as a prostitute, and they became lovers. Michele already had a wife, but he was captivated by Tezman’s mother and eventually fathered Tezman with her.
Yet Tezman’s mother gradually began to demand more. She spoke of killing his wife and taking her place beside him, and she squandered every penny Michele gave her on alcohol and drugs.
In the end, she lost her mind. She would frequently press a knife to the throat of infant Tezman and demand money. Unable to endure it any longer, Michele’s wife ordered the capos to kill her.
Still, since she had once been a woman he loved and was Tezman’s biological mother, they held a funeral and built her a grave. But he never visited it. Neither did Tezman.
Her evil deeds had been far too intense, too horrifying.
After that, whenever Michele saw an Asian woman, he would think of Tezman’s mother and feel repulsed. He would turn his head even if he spotted one on the street. It was not a pleasant memory.
And now Tezman was seeing an Asian woman. No matter how blood could not be denied, it was not welcome news to Michele.
Moreover, she was a nun. A woman who served God and lived a life of celibacy in the convent.
“They are my sons, so I knew they wouldn’t be ordinary, but you and Tezman both exceed what I imagined.”
Michele clicked his tongue.
“A nun, of all things. So, is that nun truly staying at Tezman’s estate?”
At Michele’s question, Mateo nodded.
“Yes. She no longer wears her habit, so it appears she has left the convent.”
“Can one leave that easily?”
“From what I’ve learned, she had not yet taken her Final Vows. She is not a fully professed nun, so the process was apparently quicker.”
Michele scooped up a full spoon of soup.
“And she gave it up to choose Tezman?”
After putting the soup in his mouth and savoring it, Michele’s expression grew strange.
“What do you make of it?”
It was a question that seemed to anticipate Mateo taking the lead.
Setting down his spoon, Mateo curved his lips.
“She was more innocent than I expected.”
So innocent that nothing had tainted her. It stirred a sadistic urge to corrupt her instead.
“It must be because she’s a nun. People who live cut off from the world naturally remain less stained. And Tezman? What do you think of him?”
“If you’re asking whether he’s serious or not…”
Mateo’s lips curved smoothly.
“He seems quite serious.”
Michele’s eyes widened in surprise, and he was about to speak when the sound of dress shoes echoed. Inside the restaurant, there were only Luca, the chef, Michele, and Mateo. Outside, numerous capos stood guard to protect them.
In such a situation, there was only one person who would walk in so leisurely.
“Tezman.”
At the name that slipped from Michele’s lips, Mateo slowly turned his head.
Tezman, dressed entirely in black from head to toe like the Grim Reaper himself, wore an exceedingly cold expression. Knowing the reason behind it, Mateo let out a small snort.
Soon, Tezman stood before the table where the two men sat.
“It’s been a while, Father.”
Before Michele could even respond, Tezman’s gaze shifted to Mateo. The man had come to his estate, turned it upside down, and now sat here eating peacefully. It was absurd.
With a mocking smile, Tezman addressed Mateo.
“Brother.”
There was one common condition whenever Tezman called him “brother.” It meant his mood was exceptionally foul.
“You seem to be having trouble eating your soup.”
His eyes, which had been fixed on the bowl of soup in front of Mateo, slowly moved upward to meet Mateo’s gaze.
“Shall I feed it to you?”
The moment the words left his mouth, Tezman grabbed the back of Mateo’s head and slammed his face into the soup bowl.
A dull thud rang out as the table shook. Luca, who had rushed over in alarm, froze at the sight. Yet neither Michele nor Mateo showed the slightest disturbance.
Releasing his grip on the back of Mateo’s head, Tezman spoke.
“Never touch what is mine again.”
It was the first time. The first time Tezman had shown such open hostility toward Mateo.
“Next time, I’ll shove your face into a toilet instead of soup.”
Then, with a perfectly calm expression, Tezman turned to Michele.
“Since I’ve ruined today’s meal, I will arrange the next one. With dishes that both Father and Brother will enjoy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”
After offering a light bow, Tezman turned to leave. Watching him, Michele burst into laughter. Mateo, who had lifted his head, picked up the napkin from his lap and wiped his face.
“First time getting my face shoved into soup.”
Michele spoke as he watched Mateo, who seemed to find the situation rather amusing, even licking the soup from his lips.
“It seems what you said was true, Mateo. That Tezman is serious about that woman.”
Seeing Tezman become so furious in order to protect what was his, Michele grew curious. Just what kind of woman could change his son like this?
“Luca.”
At Michele’s call, Luca quickly bowed his head.
“Yes, Boss.”
“Even though he said that, there’s no chance that boy will actually reserve a restaurant. I’ll have to arrange it again. This time, make it an Asian restaurant. How does that sound?”
At the mention of Asian cuisine, Luca understood. The next meal would not be a gathering of the three of them.
“Understood.”
It seemed the protagonist of the next dinner would be someone else entirely.