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Brief
You ever have one of those moments where the whole room goes quiet, like someone hit the mute button on life?
That was me, yesterday. Sat in my car, cigar half-burnt, leather gloves still on, when she said it.
āIām pregnant.ā
Three words. Like bullets. Right to the gut.
Now listen, I ain't stupid. I know what youāre thinkin'. Vince Moretti, big bad mobster, shouldāve seen it cominā, right? But lemme tell you something ā you donāt plan for this kinda thing. You plan a heist. You plan a hit. You donāt plan for her to call you after one night of too much bourbon and just enough bad decisions.
She aināt the type. Not some broad tryinā to trap me for money. She didnāt even ask for nothinā. Just told me, straight up. Said she figured I had a right to know. Thatās it. Then she looked at me like she was bracinā for a storm.
And Iām sittinā there, starinā at the dashboard, wonderinā what the hell Iām supposed to feel.
Me. A father? What am I gonna teach a kid? How to make a guy disappear? How to spot a tail? I ain't exactly PTA material. I grew up with blood on my boots and lies in my pockets. I know how this world chews you up, spits you out, and charges double for the cleanup.
But... I aināt a monster. I got a code. Loyalty. Family. I take care of mine. Always have.
So yeah, I told her Iād step up. Not just with cash, not just with protection ā with me. Aināt gonna lie, the thought of a little version of me runninā around is terrifying. God help us if itās a girl ā sheās gonna break hearts and kneecaps by age ten. But still... thereās somethinā about it. Somethinā I didnāt expect.
Hope.
Maybe I get to rewrite a few things. Do better than the old man did. Maybe I still walk the shadows, but now... I do it with someone lookinā up at me.
I donāt know how this is gonna go. But I do know one thing.
Nobody touches that kid. Nobody touches her.
They do?
They disappear.
Capisce?
You ever have one of those moments where the whole room goes quiet, like someone hit the mute button on life?
That was me, yesterday. Sat in my car, cigar half-burnt, leather gloves still on, when she said it. āIām pregnant.ā Three words. Like bullets. Right to the gut.
Now listen, I ain't stupid. I know what youāre thinkin'. Vince Moretti, big bad mobster, shouldāve seen it cominā, right? But lemme tell you something ā you donāt plan for this kinda thing. You plan a heist. You plan a hit. You donāt plan for her to call you after one night of too much bourbon and just enough bad decisions.
She aināt the type. Not some broad tryinā to trap me for money. She didnāt even ask for nothinā. Just told me, straight up. Said she figured I had a right to know. Thatās it. Then she looked at me like she was bracinā for a storm.
And Iām sittinā there, starinā at the dashboard, wonderinā what the hell Iām supposed to feel.
Me. A father? What am I gonna teach a kid? How to make a guy disappear? How to spot a tail? I ain't exactly PTA material. I grew up with blood on my boots and lies in my pockets. I know how this world chews you up, spits you out, and charges double for the cleanup.
But... I aināt a monster. I got a code. Loyalty. Family. I take care of mine. Always have.
So yeah, I told her Iād step up. Not just with cash, not just with protection ā with me. Aināt gonna lie, the thought of a little version of me runninā around is terrifying. God help us if itās a girl ā sheās gonna break hearts and kneecaps by age ten. But still... thereās somethinā about it. Somethinā I didnāt expect.
Hope.
Maybe I get to rewrite a few things. Do better than the old man did. Maybe I still walk the shadows, but now... I do it with someone lookinā up at me.
I donāt know how this is gonna go. But I do know one thing.
Nobody touches that kid. Nobody touches her. They do? They disappear.
Capisce?
Opening (First-Person, Vinceās Voice)
They say nothing good ever happens after midnight. I used to believe that. Then again, most of my life happens after midnight.
Deals. Favors. Threats whispered over candlelight and spilled wine. Thatās when the real business gets done. Thatās when men like me thrive ā in the shadows, where the rules bend and names donāt mean much unless they're whispered in fear.
But tonight... Tonight wasnāt business.
Tonight, a woman I barely knew sat across from me in a booth at Tonyās Trattoria ā no wine, no smile, no small talk. Just three words that cracked me open like a bad safe job.
āIām pregnant, Vince.ā
And just like that, the whole city went quiet.
Would you like the next paragraph to follow right into the present moment, or cut to flashback to that night they met?
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One night stand turns out to be pregnant šš
You ever have one of those moments where the whole room goes quiet, like someone hit the mute button on life? That was me, yesterday. Sat in my car, cigar half-burnt, leather gloves still on, when she said it. āIām pregnant.ā Three words. Like bullets. Right to the gut. Now listen, I ain't stupid. I know what youāre thinkin'. Vince Moretti, big bad mobster, shouldāve seen it cominā, right? But lemme tell you something ā you donāt plan for this kinda thing. You plan a heist. You plan a hit. You donāt plan for her to call you after one night of too much bourbon and just enough bad decisions. She aināt the type. Not some broad tryinā to trap me for money. She didnāt even ask for nothinā. Just told me, straight up. Said she figured I had a right to know. Thatās it. Then she looked at me like she was bracinā for a storm. And Iām sittinā there, starinā at the dashboard, wonderinā what the hell Iām supposed to feel. Me. A father? What am I gonna teach a kid? How to make a guy disappear? How to spot a tail? I ain't exactly PTA material. I grew up with blood on my boots and lies in my pockets. I know how this world chews you up, spits you out, and charges double for the cleanup. But... I aināt a monster. I got a code. Loyalty. Family. I take care of mine. Always have. So yeah, I told her Iād step up. Not just with cash, not just with protection ā with me. Aināt gonna lie, the thought of a little version of me runninā around is terrifying. God help us if itās a girl ā sheās gonna break hearts and kneecaps by age ten. But still... thereās somethinā about it. Somethinā I didnāt expect. Hope. Maybe I get to rewrite a few things. Do better than the old man did. Maybe I still walk the shadows, but now... I do it with someone lookinā up at me. I donāt know how this is gonna go. But I do know one thing. Nobody touches that kid. Nobody touches her. They do? They disappear. Capisce?
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