Papa Geges Novels & Stories

I explained. Gabriel’s eyes swerved assessingly to me. He looked like he wanted to say something but held his tongue. “That hijo de puta stole my family!” Papa exclaimed. He looked to Gabriel. “Just like he stole your business. We’ve both got alot in common.” Gabriel stared at my father with unconcealed distaste. The wind speed around us picked up. “You and I have nothing in common, old man,” Gabriel spat. I begged to differ. Papa’s hospital gown whipped around him, riding up to expose his backside.

Papa ate a piece of toast that had one black corner and didn’t complain, which might have been the most romantic thing he had ever done for Crista in public. Christina fussed halfway through the meal, and Papa reached for her before Crista could fully stand. He settled her against his chest, rubbing her back while continuing to drink his espresso like holding a newborn was no more difficult than holding a spoon. Gwen slept contentedly against Crista’s chest, her tiny mouth pursed in judgment. I watched him with them, and something inside me finally clicked into place. People kept saying this was Papa’s second chance. They were wrong. He had never failed the first time.

Zoe and I had mirrored smirks as his brow furrowed, pausing mid-dice to look at us. “So…how have things been going, Papa?” I arched my brow. I fell right into step as a sous chef. I knew what he was making just by his ingredients, so I started working on the next steps. “We want all the details, Zio Alec.” Zoe wiggled her eyebrows... “I will not be discussing any details with you or anyone. You mistake me for Chesed if you believe I am the sort who kisses and tells.” Papa shook his head. “Ooh, there was kissing.” Zoe and I squealed, purposely taunting him. Despite Crista’s sour mood that I’m sure Chesed had a hand in, I’m happy they are getting past the terrible way they met last night.

Papa was standing there, a keg of rum was at his feet, spilled and he looked cross. "What is this scallywag doing here?!"

Papa’s shout distracted us. I looked to the side and saw Papa looking disapprovingly at us, his open laptop in his hands. A normal person would be embarrassed to have their father catch them making out, let alone making out with one man while another is behind you getting handsy. I, however, am not a normal person. I’m Zoe Petridis, and the Goddess saw fit not to give me a sense of shame or embarrassment. Instead, I focused on Papa’s laptop screen, where I caught a glimpse of my Mama.

Cooking always calms her down. “Tanya, you look after your mama while we’re gone,” Papa instructs. “Yes, Papa,” she replies. Tanya was the first to call him Papa, where it took Maryo a couple of years. He still alternates between Mr. Andre Vittorio and Papa. It was easier for both to switch from Mrs. Alica Vittorio to Mama, though. Papa was a heritage of Italian-Russian ancestry and Mama was a pure Filipina. Just to please Mama, we all eat twice as much. It feels like I’m going to burst by the time I stand up from the table. I press a kiss to Mama’s cheek before giving her a tight hug, then move to Tanya to hug her quickly.

Rourke No sooner do I get out the door, doing my damndest to pull myself out of the Daddy process, does Pops call and say Georgie is missing. It’s fucked to say that she’s not my little sister, but again, I have rules for a fucking reason. To say that Georgie isn't my sister, would be like saying Giovanni Farelli isn't my dad. No, he's not my biological father, but the man took that position when he scraped me out of a literal gutter at age ten.

Papa informed me with a big smile and I couldn't help but smile back. “That’s beautiful news, Papa,” I said. “How did you finally come to an agreement?” “Through marriage,” the witch said with a smile, and my head moved to her. “Madea,” Papa hissed, glaring at her. It was damn satisfying to see him snap at her like that when he was always treating her like she was a golden egg that would break if you so much as lay a hand on her. “Che diavolo sta dicendo quella stronza?” I asked, facing Papa. (What the hell is that bitch saying?)

He does hate me. "Zia, I am Gecip, the oldest after brother, I am 1250 years old. Very nice meeting you" A person spoke who has very short blue hair. Which is properly set and combed. His deep black eyes look so beautiful. He looks almost human until I see those fangs in his mouth as he speaks.

Doria, Nikolas's lover, was the only one who seemed to be struggling to hide her dislike for me. In the room, it was like I didn't exist anymore to Nikolas. His undiluted attention was focused on his mother. So were most of his cutting remarks. If I didn't know better. I would never believe the duo were a mother and son. I knew Nikolas was rather infamous for his ruthlessness in business world. Not to mention that my sister had suffered from that foul attitude, but I believed it was nothing compared to his nastiness towards his mother. I would have actually felt some semblance of pity for Lilika Sica if the woman wasn't such a spitfire herself. She had the perfect clap back for every of Niko