Chapter Ten

He did not admit it to the boy but he missed Sicily too, the warm sunshine, beautiful food and the pretty girls, everything in Manchester seemed dull and grey in comparison, weighed down by the constant rain. It was no wonder Dante swore all the time, sometimes all this damn rain would be enough to make a Saint swear. well, at least an Italian Saint anyway. Shaking his head he forced himself out of the melancholy threatening to engulf him.

‘Come with me, Dante. I know a good way to blow away this boredom, I think you are old enough now to begin your proper training.’

He led the boy into the purpose-built gym in the basement of the large house they had purchased it had everything needed to train Dante into the fearsome fighter he must become. He had quickly lost the innocent trust that had led him to be captured and they had taught him a few of the little things that might get him out of trouble if he was ever kidnapped again. Franco led him to the back of the gym and pressed a conceal