8

I continued to sob, screaming and screaming for the doctor to come, but I couldn’t hear a single noise. Time stood still. It felt like I’d been waiting for an eternity.

I could feel my heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces as my father continued to call out to my dead mother to be reunited with her. He’d given up. Given up on me, given up on the Cosa Nostra. And for the first time in my life, even though my father was dying in my arms…

Was the first time I saw hope in his eyes. The love and hope he had for my mother, to be reunited with her in the afterlife.

“I l – love you, Luca. I know you’ll carry on my l – legacy. I know you’ll do me p – proud…” Dad whispered, his eyes glistening with tears. “Don’t let the others g – get to you. You’ve worked s – so hard. You’ve done so much f – for m – me…”

“Please, Dad. Please don’t do this,” I wept, screaming bloody murder. Screaming until I was blue in the face, screaming until my throat went dry. Screaming until I had nothing left inside of me.

“I’m coming, Violetta…” Dad breathed.

And those were the last words he said before his head lulled backwards, and he stopped breathing.

Drowning in his own pool of blood.

Leaving me dithering here.

Hating myself.

Despising myself.

Wishing that it was me in his place.

Knowing that this was all my fucking fault.

My father’s blood was on my hands.

It might have been an accident…

But I still pulled the fucking trigger.

I still pulled the damn trigger. I would never forgive myself for this.

Never.

It wasn’t just my father that died today.

I died too.

I died inside.

He took the last piece of my soul with him as he died.

6

luca

“We will now have a moment of silence for Matteo Costello,” said the priest, kissing the cross and marking the trinity on his chest, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

It was the day of my father’s funeral. The day we laid him to rest. I was at loss for words. For weeks, I hadn’t been able to say anything to anyone. It was like I’d suddenly forgotten how to speak.

I watched my father die in my arms, just like he watched my mother die in his arms. And I knew that I was never going to be the same again.

I stared at the gravestone of my father, thinking about the afterlife. Was he in heaven with my mother? Was he trapped in limbo? Was he in hell for all the people he killed? Did redemption even exist for people like us? For mafioso? Would God ever forgive him for his sins?

 I screwed my face, feeling completely at loss. Completely empty, hollow, numb. Feeling like a dead man walking.

There was nothing left for me in this world. Absolutely nothing. Having lost both my parents, and now I had the burden of the responsibility of carrying on the legacy of the Sicilian Mafia. I didn’t want this for myself. I wanted Fizz to put a bullet straight through me, throwing me in a grave right next to my father.

But I had to remember what my father said to me. The last words he said with his dying breath. How he was certain I would do him proud. How I had to stop letting the other motherfuckers get to me.

I knew I had to keep on going.

For the sake of my mother…

For the sake of my goddamn Pops.

 “Are you okay, bro?” Fizz breathed, shakily putting his hand on my shoulder.

I turned around to face him, my eyes burning into his. A massive void within me.

“I’ll be fine,” I breathed. “I just have some unfinished business to take care of.”

Fizz gave me a feeble nod, before turning to the gravestone. “Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi rajioon.”

Verily, we belong to Allah, and verily, to Him do we return.

***

I also put Jamal to rest that night. Shooting him at the back of his head, before he even saw it coming.