Mira woke up to the early morning sun peaking through the windows, a blanket draped over body, Pickles snoring heavily in her arms.

Adrian had offered her his bed, but she had insisted that the couch would more than suffice. Still, she didn't remember falling asleep, nor asking for a blanket. He must've put it on top of her before he'd gone to his own room to sleep. Despite revealing his own ties to the mafia, his actions contradicted the dangerous, scary persona she would expect from someone like him.

"Good morning sleeping beauty," Adrian said from a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table, eyes glued to the book he was reading, the glasses he'd been wearing at the book store resting on the bridge of his nose.

"So you really are a nerd, huh?" Mira asked with a yawn as she sat up. He glanced up at her.

"I guess I am," his eyes went back to the book. "I made breakfast if you're hungry." As if on cue, Mira's stomach let out a low growl. "And by the sounds of it, you are." He added and Mira's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she stood up and made her way over to the kitchen counter where an array of eggs, sausage, bacon and fruit sat in all their glory. Her eyes went wide and she grabbed a plate, shamelessly piling it full.

Her phone began buzzing in her pocket, and curiously she peeked down at the caller ID. She almost choked on her food as she quickly answered it and held it up to her ear.

"Hey dad-," she started but was immediately cut off.

"Amira, why did I receive a call from the police department saying that they found you car at a crash site, but haven't been able to locate or get in contact with you?" He didn't necessarily sound angry, just annoyed.

"I'm sorry, I was just so panicked, I had a friend pick me up and I stayed at her place for the night. I'll stop by the police department today and make sure to get things sorted out." She lied, the fact that her car was just sitting in the middle of an intersection having completely slipped her mind amidst everything.

"It's fine, I'll have my lawyer take care of everything. Just please use your head every once in a while." He hung up before Mira could even say anything else. She let out a long breath, realizing that was the most she'd actually spoken to her dad all month, and of course he was pissed at her.

"Sounds like a real great guy," Adrian commented from behind her. "Did he even ask if you were alright?"

That's what hurt the most, he was more worried about covering his own ass than his daughter.

"This is how things are between us, nothing new." She replied shortly. She didn't have the energy to talk about him anymore.

She picked at her food, appetite completely gone.

"So when is your friend coming to look over those documents?" She asked, breaking the silence that had been hanging in the air.

"He should be over within the next hour." Adrian replied. She went ahead and threw away more than half a plate of food, walking over to the sink and washing the plate and placing it in the dishwasher. She wandered into the living room, over to the tall bookshelf that sat at the edge of the room, running her fingers along the spines. There were a lot of philosophical novels, not really Mira's taste, but she smiled at Huckleberry Finn, a classic she'd read back freshman year for school.

"So have you actually read all of these," she questioned as she pulled the classic off the shelf, turning the collectors edition cover around in her hands.

"I've read most of them, but there are a few I haven't gotten to yet." Adrian replied, setting his book down and giving her his full attention.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have a lot of time for reading on your hands, given your profession and all," she carefully returned the book to its spot on the shelf.

"Uh-huh, and what exactly do you think my profession pertains?" He seemed amused. Mira shrugged, not exactly a mafia expert.

"I don't know? Drugs?" She offered.

"Yeah... we do handle a lot of drugs, smuggling, transferring and selling them. I don't really invest a lot of time in those sorts of jobs though, they're fairly routine, unproblematic." He rested his head against the palm of his hand.

"What do you do then?" Mira asked curiously.

"I handle politics mostly. The key to smooth operations is to have politicians who are willing to work with us behind the scenes. We give them whatever they need, whether it's an election, or money, and in return, they let us continue operating in their cities."

She knew politics were corrupt, people complained about it all the time, but to think they willingly cooperated with the mafia for their own gain... corruption was an understatement.

The real question she wanted to ask was whether or not he'd killed someone, but she concluded that although deep down she knew he most definitely had, and ignorance was bliss in this instance.

A knock sounded from the door. Mira looked over to Adrian, who stood up and made his way over to answer it. A tall, muscular man stood in the doorway, tanned skin and dark features hinting at his Italian ancestry. His hair was tied back in a small bun, chocolate brown eyes shifting from Adrian to Mira.

"Is this her?" He asked Adrian, who nodded in response.

"Ah," he walked over to her, holding out a large, rough hand. "Matteo, a pleasure to meet you, Bella signorina." The Italian in the sentence threw Mira off a bit, but she smiled, shaking his hand.

"Mira, it's nice to meet you."

He turned back towards Adrian.

"So where's these documents you want me to translate?" He asked, Adrian walking over and grabbing the stack of papers from the countertop.

"All of these." Adrian handed the hefty stack to Matteo, who bristled at the sight.

"Aye, this is going to take a while. What exactly am I looking for?" He questioned.

"Not sure, Joseph Aldaine is supposedly an accountant, but it seems the Lucchese family wants something to do with Mira and odds are it ties back to him." Adrian responded, Matteo's brows knitting together.

"The Lucchese family? Why the hell are we getting involved in their affairs?" He asked, clearly not thrilled by the idea.

"Just do it, Matteo, there might not even be anything useful in there." Adrian rolled his eyes, and despite the protest in Matteo's expression, he walked over to the couch and spread the papers out in front of him. He began studying the documents, his dark brown eyes scanning their contents.

"It seems to be some sort of correspondence between two people." He continued reading, his gaze lifting from the pages to Mira, before back down at the paper.

"Feel free to share with the class," Adrian said impatiently.

"What, you want me to do a read aloud or something?" Matteo retorted, earning a small smile from Adrian in response.

"That would be perfect actually."

"Alright, I'll start from the top then," Matteo sighed.

"Uncle,
The rat infestation has been dealt with. We went ahead and followed up with some spring cleaning for precautionary measures.
Regards,
C. P"

Once Matteo finished, he looked up at Adrian from his seat, the two sharing a same concerned expression.

"So what does that mean exactly?" Mira asked after a moment. They both looked at her, like they'd forgotten she was in the room.

"It's riddled with mafia slang and code words..." he paused. "Definitely not a document your dad should not have his hands on." He turned back to Matteo.

"Keep going."

Mira still didn't understand what the letter had meant, and still didn't for the following to come. Instead, she sat patiently watching the two exchange glances, trying her best to grasp what she could. After nearly and hour of listening to Matteo read aloud the documents, he finally stopped, Adrian raking his fingers through his hair.

Without a word, he disappeared into his room, returning with his computer in his hands. He placed it down on the coffee table and began quickly typing something in. He shook his head.

"There's no way we have nothing on a man this wealthy." Adrian shook his head. "It's gotta be a false identity." He looked over at Matteo who agreed.

"False identity?" Mira piped in quietly, once again startling the two men with her presence. Adrian pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Do you have a picture of him by chance?" He asked, the question catching her off guard, but Mira nodded slowly, pulling her phone out and scrolling to the oldest pictures in her camera roll, nearly seven years old.

"It's from a while back, but," she held the phone out to him. It was a picture of the three of them, Mira, her mom and her dad on vacation.

The color seemed to drain from Adrian's face as he looked at the picture.

"Fuck," he muttered, his eyes lifting to meet Mira's.

"Mira," he bit his lips, hesitating. "I've met your father...but his name wasn't Joseph Aldaine."