rose scented redemption

The cool midnight air greeted him with the fragrance of roses. He felt the relief instantly, his anxiety dissipating, blown away by the night breeze, leaving only the scent of roses clinging to him like a permanent lover.

For a ruthless mafia like him, who’d taken countless lives in the seedy underbelly of Chicago, he couldn’t understand why he found roses to be so comforting. They were such fragile plants, their petals so delicate, like humans whom he could easily crush with his palms. Still, whatever it was, it always did the trick. The scent calmed him down and he relaxed.

Soon it would all be over. Soon he’d get to wash his hands off all the dirty deeds and put his gun away for good. Soon he’d get to return to where he always wanted to be. His home. A lifetime away from all the drugs, the prostitution, and all the stupid fucking elites who thought they could rule the world.

Just three more years and he would step down and retire. Gian, his younger brother, would be mature enough to take over as head of the Lorenzo clan.

But before that, there was so much to do, because once Gian took over, their name—the Lorenzo—would no longer be associated with the mafia world.

Being in the mafia world wasn’t half bad. It was better than being tossed to the side, lying half dead on the outskirts of Chicago in some dark alleyway. Hell, being leader of the Lorenzo clan was even better than better.

It was fucking fantastic. He’d learned so many skills related to business that once he stepped down as mafia leader, he could make millions, billions, with the knowledge he’d gained.

Lorenzo himself was already classified as one of the top billionaires, along with a handful of others, like Dawson, Julian, Justin, and—Giovanni.

Fuck Giovanni!

He never liked the guy. Giovanni was the type of man who didn’t give a fuck about the world. He was carefree, obnoxious, and arrogant to a fault, but he had a compassionate heart, one where Lorenzo found himself lacking.

He heard Giovanni had four close underlings, ones who he dined with and confided in. Almost as if they were his family.

Family? What was family anyway? Apart from Gian, he didn’t have anyone else to call family. Everyone he’d loved had all left him. He felt so alone in this world.

If he were to truly ask himself what he really wanted in life, it would be that he wanted a family of his own. A wife and a few children, with a dog maybe, all running around the backyard while he sipped his tea and watched them play. Just a simple and idyllic lifestyle.

But he was afraid he was no longer capable of such things. He had changed.

The life of a mafia had robbed him of being human. He was cold, calculative, and ruthless, to the point where he didn’t even bat an eye anymore when he pulled the trigger and ended a person’s life. It scared him that he no longer felt emotion for anything, that he had become disconnected from this world.

But he needn’t worry about it anymore. Things had been put in place and in a few years’ time, when Gian took over, he would be free to enjoy his life and live as a normal man, on his rose farm.

Lorenzo thought of his home in Chicago, deep in the middle of nowhere, a mansion surrounded by nothing but woods and roses. He missed it, his other home. New York was the thoroughbred of life, the blood veins of businesses, but Chicago was where he felt the most at peace.

He gazed at the panoramic view of New York City before him. Bright lights and neon billboards decorated the entire city, stretching from north to south, and east to west. It was already well past two a.m. and the night was more alive than ever. He really did love New York, but he loved Chicago more.

After inhaling much-needed air, he headed back inside and noticed his cell phone’s flashing green light.

Elvira?

It couldn’t be. She wasn’t one to disturb him past midnight.

Lorenzo swiped his phone and saw a dozen messages and three missed calls from Tono, his right-hand man.

He was about to read those messages when Tono bolted through the door, his massive frame crowding the doorway.

Lorenzo’s gut instinct told him something was seriously wrong.

Tono’s voice came out low, rough, almost broken.

“Boss.”

A beat of silence.

“Gian was in a serious car accident.”

Another beat.

“I’m afraid he won’t make it.”

Lorenzo’s world collapsed for a second time.