Enzo

"Happy birthday, baby!" I woke up in the morning to the sound of Papa's voice—the voice I never got tired of hearing. My favorite voice in the entire world.

"Papa, whose birthday is it today?" I asked, twisting and turning in bed, too lazy to get up.

"It's your birthday. Happy birthday, son," Papa said, coming closer to me. He gently brushed the hair from my forehead and kissed it. I loved when he did that. I loved the way he looked at me with his calm, green eyes. This man deserved so much more than he already had.

"Thanks, Papa. I love you!" I said, touching his face, feeling his short beard against my hand. It felt like sandpaper. I saw him get emotional when I did that. He always did if I showed him even the smallest bit of affection.

"Can't believe you're an adult now," he said, looking at me. "It feels like just yesterday, the first time I saw you," he added, hugging me while I was still lying in bed.

"Okay, don't make me cry," I said, smiling. I never understood why he loved me so much, especially since we weren't even related by blood. Despite all the pain I had caused him, he never turned away. He always had the choice to follow the rules, to not care about me, but instead, he broke all the rules for me. He put his life in danger for me. He even put his whole family in jeopardy for me.

"Why do you love me so much?" I asked him.

"Because you're my son," he replied. "My first son," he said, smiling.

He had already told me the story of how, when I was two years old, I used to call him "Mamma" because I couldn't pronounce his name. Then, he asked me to call him "Papa," thinking I might outgrow it as I got older. Yet, after 17 years, I was still calling him Papa.

"That's right. You better love me every day," I said, getting up from the bed.

"I bought you something. It's not that big, but I wanted to give you something," he said. Sometimes, he secretly gave me little gifts for my birthdays, but now there were no more rules for me.

"What is it?" I asked eagerly.

He pulled out a framed photo from a bag—it was a picture of me and Papa. I was 2 years old at the time, eating an orange, with juice everywhere on my face, sitting on Papa's lap. A smile spread across my face when I saw it.

"Thanks, Papa. This is so great! I really love it," I said, placing it on my table.

I then went to the bathroom to take a morning shower.

Louis

It was Enzo's birthday. Papa asked me to tell Enzo to come to his office because he wanted him to start working at the company starting tomorrow. Papa didn't want to waste any more time. Enzo had a lot to learn.

When I went to his room, it was empty, and I heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. My eyes caught a photo frame on his desk, and I walked over to take a closer look. It was a photo of Manuel and Enzo. Enzo was 2 years old, eating an orange like a brat, with juice all over his cute, chubby cheeks. Wait, Manuel took this photo? So, he broke even more rules.

Suddenly, Enzo came out of the bathroom wearing just a towel and saw the photo in my hands. Enzo was getting more and more handsome. I wondered if he even realized it. I couldn't help but feel a little proud to have such a handsome brother. Honestly, Pedro was also handsome, and even Papa was good-looking, though he was getting weaker now, like he was mentally suffering from something. I always wondered if it had to do with Enzo.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at me with his dark eyes. They looked even more intense now.

"Just looking at your photo. Who do you think took this photo?" I asked, and Enzo's face changed slightly, a hint of fear in his expression. I knew he didn't want Manuel to get into trouble.

"Give me that," he said, grabbing the photo from my hands.

"Papa asked you to come to his office. He wants you to join the company and start work tomorrow. He wants to talk to you about it," I said.

"Okay, I'll change and come," Enzo said.

Enzo went to Papa's office, and I secretly sneaked into his room to take the photo. I waited until he came out of Papa's office, then, once he was out, I made my way to Papa's office, careful not to let him see what I was holding.

I knew Papa wasn't going to punish Manuel ever again, but I wanted to see Papa's reaction when he saw the photo.

"Look, Papa," I said, showing him the photo.

"Who is it?" he asked, not looking at it carefully.

"Are you serious, Papa? That's Enzo," I said. He took the photo from my hand and examined it closely. I saw his eyes shine, and his lips trembled slightly.

"So, he even took photos of him, although he wasn't allowed to," Papa said with a calm voice, but I noticed his lips were shaking—not with anger.

"It looks like it. I think it's a good thing, though. We forgot to take his photos when he was little," I said quietly.

"Ask Manuel to come to my office," he said. I got up and started to pick up the photo.

"I'll give this back later," he added.

Manuel

I went to Gerardo's office, wondering why he had asked me to come.

"Sit down, Manuel," he said. So, I sat down.

"How old are you now, Manuel?" he asked.

"37," I replied.

"How old were you when you first came here?" he asked again.

"I was 20," I said, still unsure where this conversation was headed.

"Oh, only five years older than Pedro," Gerardo remarked.

"Yes, boss," I said.

"You know what, Manuel? I've never met someone who isn't scared of me, like you," he said, looking at me. I wasn't sure if it was an accusation or a compliment, but to be honest, I was scared of that crazy dog. Who the hell isn't scared of him?

"That's... That's... not true, boss," I said.

Then, Gerardo took something from his desk and showed it to me. It was the picture I had given to Enzo. I had no idea how it ended up in his hands.

"Is that why you broke like a thousand rules? Because you're scared of me?" he asked, and I didn't have an answer for that.

"Do you have more pictures of my son?" Gerardo asked. I thought about saying no, but before I could answer, he added, "I don't have any of his childhood photos, and I can't even remember him as a child. I miss his childhood. If you have any pictures, I'd like to see them. I'm not going to punish you for this."

I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to decide what to do.

"Manuel, just give me more memories of his childhood if you have them. I don't have any. I promise I won't punish you," Gerardo said, his voice carrying a hint of emotion.

"Okay, boss. Can I email them to you?" I asked.

"Yeah, just email them now. And give this back to Enzo," Gerardo said. I got up and left.

I went to Enzo's room, but he wasn't there. So, I placed the picture on his table and headed outside. I saw him with Louis, and it looked like they were arguing about something. I decided to approach them.

"Why did you give him that? You're a fucking dog, Louis. I hate you," Enzo snapped.

"He's not mad at you guys. He liked it," Louis replied.

"Oh, fuck off. You wanted to fire Papa, didn't you? That's why you showed it to him?" Enzo said, and suddenly Louis burst into laughter.

"Why the fuck are you laughing, dog?" Enzo asked, his anger rising.

"For how many people do you call 'Papa,' Enzo? Papa will not fire Papa. Don't worry," he said, still laughing, and Enzo's face turned red with rage.

"I put it back on your table, Enzo," I said.

"See? Your Papa is safe. Papa didn't fire Papa. Papa isn't angry that Papa took a photo of you," Louis said, laughing.

"Idiot," Enzo muttered to Louis before rushing into the house.

"Was Papa mad?" Louis asked me.

"No, boss," I replied.

"What did he say?" Louis asked, his curiosity piqued.

"He asked if I have more photos and to send them to him," I said.

"So you have more?" Louis asked, clearly interested.

"Yes, a few," I said, though I had thousands. I had always wanted to keep all the memories, and I was glad I had.

"A few? I don't believe you. Send them to me too," Louis said before walking away.