Crave For You

Gabriel

The house along the curb appears welcoming under the morning sky. It is the kind of suburban architecture people would sell their souls to own. It's in a good location too. But then again, Mrs. Dane said she was going through a financial crisis after her husband's untimely death. I'm assuming he left a bunch of dealers for her to sort in her middle age.

One can hardly trust the loyalty of gamblers.

She fits my profile. Her son is my age. Although I couldn't access a picture of the family, they are my closest shot. I have a strong feeling about this. It makes the blood in my veins thrum in anticipation.

Then why can't I gather the strength to step onto the porch? I heard her voice already. She had a cold but couldn't see doctors because of the fees, which immediately made me call clinics around the area for a home visit as quickly as possible. She should be getting a call soon. I already paid, so it is a matter of time. She won't be suffering for long.

Anton is tapping on the steering wheel impatiently, pursing his lips. I catch his gaze in the rear-view mirror, knowing he has questions he is dying to ask.

I sweep the sunglasses down my eyes, rubbing my face. "I told this to you in confidence," I remind him. "You reveal stuff like that—I'll end you."

"Got it, boss," he murmurs insincerely, his lips rolling. "There's no need to threaten me. I honestly don't even think it's true. Signora Valentino might be lying."

I wish she was.

"She's not," I deadpan. "She might say a lot of false things but what she said was true. I saw it in her eyes."

"And you think this is the solution?" Anton turns in his seat, peeking at the porch of the house with curiosity. "Going door to door of every family on the list to get their DNA?"

I let out an exasperated breath. I have doubted myself long enough. I don't need him to tarnish the rest of my confidence. "It's a simple test. I did my calculations and she has the highest chance of being my mother."

"On what basis?"

"Her husband was a gambler."

"Huh?"

I clear my throat, rubbing my thumb over my bottom lip. I had a mini accident in the gym today while stressing over Sofia's words. It resulted in a cut on my chin which I now itch to dig my fingers into and scratch away.

"Vera said my biological father was a gambler," I explain in a hardened tone. "That's how he came into the whole 'exchange child idea' thing. So, I did some digging and her husband was a known gambler. He even died under mysterious circumstances so I'm assuming her to be my closest shot. The others on the list check out."

Anton tilts his head thoughtfully. "And the family was from New York?"

"Sì."

"Let me get this straight—" Anton's eyebrows draw together as he speaks. "You're going to knock on a woman's door to steal her DNA just because you think she might be your mother because her deceased husband was a... gambler?"

He sounds revolted by the idea, making me give him a stern glare. "Do I look like I'm joking to you?"

Anton chuckles like he has stumbled upon the joke of the century. "Gabriel, you're the Don of the motherfucking New York Conclave! You can't go around knocking on random people's houses asking for Mommy."

"Spare me that crap." I hook the sunglasses into the placket of my shirt, checking my hairstyle in the rear-view mirror. I tried to dress casually today for the meeting, opting for a simple denim shirt and white khakis to not seem intimidating. I drop my hands upon realizing what I'm doing. This is so not me. "You don't think I find this humiliating? I know how it looks and that's why I wanted you to drive me. I trust you."