They Bullied Me at Work but My Father Is the Don

Three months earlier, the Don of the Ferraro family found me and told me I was his biological son, the baby who had been switched at birth.

These docks were the first thing he gave me to make up for it and the first test he set for me.

My father tapped a ledger with one finger as cigar smoke curled around his face.

"Take charge of these docks. Show me you have what it takes to be the Don's heir."

I took the encrypted ledger and nodded.

The next day, I became Vincent, a bookkeeper at a small shipping company on a remote stretch of docks.

When I started, everyone treated me normally enough.

Then they realized I wasn't taking their hints and was recording every entry exactly as I found it.

The way they looked at me changed.

The first week, someone would still say hello now and then.

By the second week, no one would partner with me to reconcile a shipment.

By the third week, even the men in the cold storage room next door avoided me.

Wherever I went, groups broke apart and people scattered, avoiding me as if I were a fly.

I'm not stupid. I knew what it meant.

It didn't bother me.

I came here to do a job, not to make friends.

Every day before I clocked out, I pulled out the old receipts, checked them, and marked every irregular entry in the encrypted ledger.

The more they acted as if I didn't exist, the more quietly I could go through the books.

Then, during an inventory count at the docks, I got jostled in the crowd and accidentally bumped into Santo.

His smile froze, and he pointed a finger right in my face.

"Who the hell do you think you are, touching me?

"Do you have any idea how much this suit cost? I could dump you in the harbor, and you still couldn't pay for it!"

That same day, Thomas in HR moved my desk to the farthest corner of the office, right next to the cold storage room.

"Vincent, if you're not going to work, at least stay out of everyone else's way. You'll sit there from now on."

I stood my ground.

"I'm not bothering anyone. I'm not moving."

Thomas frowned.

"If you don't like my decision, take it upstairs yourself."

I knew Santo had the company's management under his thumb. If I challenged him openly, the rest of my investigation would become much harder.

I had no choice but to move.

The cold storage door opened and closed all day, filling the air around me with the smell of frozen meat.

After that, Santo came after me more and more often.

In an alley at the docks, an oncoming truck slammed on its brakes inches from my feet, splashing muddy water all over me.

Santo sat in the cab with a cigarette between his lips, almost smiling.

In the break room, I found a razor blade in my food after stepping away for a minute. Santo sat across from me, eating his sandwich and winking at me.

And when I got back to my apartment, there was a dead fish stinking up my bed.

That's how a warning is delivered in our world.

[Keep sticking your nose in, and you'll end up like the fish.]

When I went to confront Santo, I found him with the ledger I kept locked in my drawer.

He was holding a lit lighter beneath it.

I crossed the room and took the ledger from him.

I went through it twice to make sure nothing was damaged, then let out a breath.

Santo walked over and patted my cheek with his gold-ringed hand.

"Look at this soft little thing. His eyes are actually turning red.

"What are you going to do now? Run home and hide behind your mother's skirts, begging her to protect you?"

When he was done, he took his hand away.

The crew behind him laughed.

I only grew calmer.

I committed every one of their names to memory.

Santo. Tony. Paolo. Thomas...

I hadn't made my move yet.

I hadn't finished checking the books. It was too soon to act.

Once I'd finished going through the docks' books, I'd settle the score.