Papa Geges Novels & Stories

Papa. Richard Pete stood on the threshold, still in his dark chauffeur’s uniform, his cap clutched in work-roughened hands. He looked smaller than I remembered, older, his face etched with worry lines deeper than the last time I’d seen him – probably driving Eve to some gala while I rotted in St. Mary’s. His eyes, the same dark brown as mine, scanned the room frantically before landing on me, peering from the hallway shadows. Relief flooded his features, swiftly followed by profound sorrow. "Mija," he breathed, stepping forward, arms opening instinctively.

Papa’s voice rings out, approving. Our fists pause as Papa steps out from under the sparring arch, hands behind his back, boots silent on grass. He looks between us, expression composed, then nods once. “Good form, you two,” he says. His voice is filled with warmth and something I can't place. “Impressive.” I grin, standing up straight. “Thank the Goddess you came Papa, I was getting my ass kicked,” I say, laughing. “Is that so?” he crosses to us both. Tessa’s face flushes. She bites her lip.

My gaze landed on Sofia’s chest. Pinned to her dress was an ancient bronze brooch shaped like a double-headed serpent. In the eyes of the snake sat two incredibly rare blood diamonds. That wasn't just jewelry. That was the Sigil of the Papa—the supreme token left to me by my father, the previous "Pope" of the Mafia. I kept it locked in a hidden safe. Noticing my stare, Sofia gasped theatrically, covering her mouth with her hand.

Maybe he didn’t understand, or maybe the sickness affected his vision. “Papa, the man you’re pointing at is Luca Rossi,” I pointed out. “As in the Rossi capo that has sought tirelessly to overthrow you and bring everything you’ve worked hard to build to ruin. You’re entering him with warmth and tequila.” After my announcement, I expected Papa to frown, rain thunder on everyone, and order Marco to bundle the man to the basement and chop his fingers for daring to enter his home. I expected this sudden nightmare to end. But nothing changed, and Papa’s crooked smile stayed intact.

he felt his breath shorten as though he had suddenly gotten stage fright. He saw his father turn around. "What's this?" Mr. Kenington said, frowning. "Hello, Father," George said. "Father," Mr. Kenington repeated. "What are you doing in this patio?" "I brought Gistla back." "So I see," said Mr. Kenington, his eyes narrow as he looked at Gistla. "Where's George?" "I'm George." "I'm not in the mood for joking with Venusians," his father snapped. "What made you think you could come in here like this?"

I reciprocated with a smile, casting my eyes around the room, unsure of how best to convey my thoughts and emotions in that moment. With a composed tone, I responded, "Italy is truly amazing. I recently visited Taormina, and it was a captivating frontier to explore." I couldn't help but wonder what Papa was anticipating, considering his cunning nature. I hoped my answer would meet his expectations. "Interesting," Papa replied, nodding his head as his gaze shifted towards Antonio. Antonio maintained his composure, engrossed in his food. I wasn't quite sure what he was eating; it was a dish I had never seen before.

“I’m Giovanni Flynn Brickser, CEO of Brickser Corporation, Sir.” “I know you,” Papa said meaningfully and Giovanni gulped. “As much as possible, I don’t want my daughter to be married to anyone who is part of underground society. I want my daughter to live peacefully away from danger and death,” Papa straightforwardly said so I look at Giovanni and he avoided our gazes. “I will not abolish our marriage, Sir if that’s what you are trying to say,” Giovanni said with determination in his voice so my eyes widened. What the hell?! What the fuck is he thinking?!

“Hey, they would have their own families. They can’t just stay with us forever.” “Yeah… They can’t…” “You’ll have me… I’ll have you. What more do you need? Maybe we would have grandchildren.” He said, beaming. “This reminds me that the Pappa’s old couple will soon have a great-great-grandchild. Do you believe it?” “Wow… How old are they?” “Mrs. Aphrodite told me they are both 88.” He didn’t respond… And I continued. “Adam got a €500 tip.” “Lucky guy. Half a month’s salary in just a night. From whom?”

dad said, standing up from his seat. “Okay” papa Pat said, standing up from his seat. Papa, Pat is a 70 years old man, and he looks 50, he is very strong. If not because of his white beards and hair, you won’t even know he is up to 70. We all went to the dining room, but a hand grabbed me back harshly.

"Papa, I heard you just broke up with Rio?" Ghea immediately frowned. Just as she sat down, instead of a morning greeting, her father was to the point, asking about her recent breakup. Moreover, how did he even know about this? "Why is Papa suddenly talking about the breakup? It's still early, Pa. You're killing Ghea's mood right away." Maxwell Denovan, a Chinese descent man who was Ghea's father, chuckled. Perhaps he found it amusing to see his youngest daughter's openly expressed annoyance. "Papa just wanted to make sure before telling you something important."