Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss-Chapter 70: A Father’s Return.

Only minutes away from the hospital, James sat in silence, his breathing shallow, his fingers twitching against his knee.

His father…that fucker.

After all these years, after all the suffering and silence, he suddenly decides to show up?

With no warning, no explanation, nothing but his pathetic existence as if that was enough?

Like James would just forget?

His entire body trembled with barely contained rage. He wanted to destroy something, to break something, anything, just to match the chaos inside him.

How dare he?

How dare that man show his face now, after all the times James and Rafael had needed him?

After all the nights they had spent alone, wondering why they weren’t good enough?

Why did his father just leave like it was the easiest thing in the world?

His mind burned with memories he thought he had buried long ago.

The way his mother had struggled, breaking herself apart to keep them afloat while that coward disappeared without a single word.

And now, he just…what? Shows up? Like none of it happened?

As they arrived, James stepped out of the car, but his body was giving up on him. The painkillers were wearing off, and every movement sent sharp jolts of pain through his body.

Hector quickly grabbed his arm, steadying him before he could stumble and he felt it, the rage boiling inside James.

He and the others were the only ones who knew the truth. The real truth.

Not the stories James had made up over the years to hide the reality of his father and the family.

As they stepped inside, it became worse than he had ever imagined.

James’ mother sat in the hallway, her face pale, her body tense. Beside her, Bella clutched Charlotte, her small arms wrapped around the child as if shielding her from something.

But what froze James in place was the unmistakable red mark on his mother’s face.

Her eyes were red, swollen from tears.

James stopped before her. "What happened?"

His mother flinched, looking away. "Nothing…" she whispered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Nothing?

His entire body screamed for him to act, but instead, he forced himself to move slowly, lowering himself to his knees in front of her with Hector’s help.

He took her hands, gripping them firmly, forcing her to look at him.

"Mom." His voice was lower now. "What happened?"

His fingers curled tighter around hers. He needed to hear it. Needed to know exactly what that fucker had done.

James felt his mother’s hands tremble in his grip. She still wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t meet his eyes.

She had never been weak. Never.

She was the strongest person he knew, the one who had held everything together when their world fell apart. She had worked herself to the bone, bled for them, endured years of suffering to give him and Rafael something….anything to hold onto.

And now she sat there, shaking, her face marked, her eyes red and swollen from crying..

James’ hands curled around hers tighter, his own body trembling, not from pain but from the violent, seething rage that clawed its way up his throat.

"Tell me he did this?"

His mother’s lips quivered, but no words came out.

"It was that man inside…" Charlotte’s worried voice came from Bella’s grip. "He hit her." She said, looking into James’ eyes.

He stopped breathing for a moment.

Something inside James snapped.

His vision blurred, not from pain, not from exhaustion, but from the raw, consuming rage clawing its way out of him.

He hit her.

His mother, his mother, the woman who had given everything, sacrificed everything, suffered alone so they wouldn’t have to.

That fucking shit had come back just to hurt her again.

James’ breath came out slowly. His head lowered slightly, his shoulders shaking. He forced himself to breathe, but it wasn’t working.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough to stop the fury breaking him apart from the inside.

He stood up and turned to the door. His voice came out quiet, too quiet, the kind of quiet that made men afraid.

"Stay here."

"James…" Her mother whispered.

"Stay. Here."

Slowly he walked toward the room. His hands flexed at his sides, itching, aching for violence.

He opened the door and there he was.

Robert Bellini.

The man who had given him his name. The man who had abandoned them.

James’ entire body stiffened at the sight of him.

He looked exactly the same as when he left, long black hair, a beard, but there was something else. Something that made James’ blood boil even more.

A woman sat in the chair beside Robert, watching him with a smile.

"You’ve grown up, James… but I never imagined you’d grow up to be your younger brother’s killer."

Before he could respond, the woman beside him spoke, her gaze slowly trailing over James.

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"Your son looks like a complete psychopath, darling. When you said he was rich, I expected more than…this." She scoffed, tilting her head. "Is he really that wealthy? To me he looks like a homeless person."

James remained silent, but Hector wasn’t as restrained.

He had already reached for his gun, his fingers slowly wrapping around the grip, ready to pull it out.

The woman’s sharp eyes flicked to him.

"Oh?" Her voice was mocking "A mobster? Is that why that Raphael kid died?" She turned back to Robert with an exaggerated sigh. "Darling, what a boy you gave life to."

She was smiling.

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Smiling.

As if this was a fucking joke. As if she had any right to speak about Rafael.

As if she had any right to be here at all.

James wasn’t even looking at his father anymore. His eyes locked onto her, taking in every detail, her smirk, the way she sat so comfortably like she belonged, like she wasn’t sitting beside the very man who had abandoned them.

His father wasn’t even the only insult in this room.

That woman…that fucking bitch.

James barely noticed Hector moving beside him. Barely registered the quiet click as the gun was slowly drawn from its holster.

The only thing James saw, the only thing he felt, was the overwhelming, suffocating, murderous rage building up inside him.

And yet, somehow, he remained still and that… that was more terrifying than anything.

"So, it’s true then." Robert’s spoke. "You really did kill him."

Hector’s grip on the gun tightened.

James?

James didn’t even blink.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he tilted his head slightly, just enough to meet his father’s eyes.

"Say it again."

His voice was calm. Too calm.

Robert’s smirk faltered, but only for a moment.

The woman beside him, still smiling like this was some sort of game, leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh? Did he hit a nerve, dear? Are you sensitive about being a murderer?"

James took a step forward.

Hector moved slightly, gun now fully drawn.

But James wasn’t looking at his father anymore.

He was looking at her.

"You talk too much."

"Really? And what are you gonna do? Shoot me?" She smirked.

"I assume you’re here for money, but why would I give you anything?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the greed was instant. "If you have money, you need to help your parents and…" She held out her hand showing a ring. "...I am your stepmother, so help me out."

James smiled into her face before saying. "I’ll give you 50 million, is that enough?"

"More than enough." She smiled standing up and stepping closer, meanwhile Hector stood frozen and confused but as James spoke again he understood.

"Hector, escort this beautiful woman to a car and call my ’accountant’ Ferucci. Make sure he serves her with a lot of love and care." He smiled at him.

Hector smiled back, holstering his gun. "With pleasure."

"I’m coming back darling." She kissed Robert and left the room with Hector.

But oh, she would never come back, nor would she ever be seen again.

"Why did you put your hand on Mom?" James asked, stepping closer to him.

Robert smiled as he stood up.

"You’re acting tough, aren’t you?" He held out his hand, grabbing James’s shoulder. "You’re not even in your late twenties, and look how brave you are. A mobster, or what? Some street gang member acting big? And because of this, Rafael died."

His grip tightened on James’s shoulder.

"I am your father, son. And Rafael was my son too. And you let him die? Your whore mother didn’t teach you anything while I was gone?" He let out of James’ shoulder and stepped back. "I’m back and now you will answer my questions—"

James’ laugh stopped him saying anything, he only saw him laughing for heart it was pure joy.

"Ahhh, what a show…you know, that bitch of yours was really funny. Thinking about it, I even gave her money… ahhh." He shook his head, wiping away tears.

"What?"

"Yeah, that fucking bitch is going to suffer, die like a pig. Her legs and hands will be cut off, and after that, she’ll be eaten by pigs or dogs, just like in the movies."

He looked at Robert, whose face was now very different then was before.

"Don’t look at me like that. And more importantly." He stepped more closer. "Don’t you dare speak Rafael’s name., because I—"

A slap.

James staggered back. One of the guards standing by the door caught him before he could fall.

He placed his hand on his face, then looked up with a smile.

"Ah…you fucked up now, Father."