23

Narrator's Pov 

A glimpse of the past

Florence Piero

She breathed hastily through her mouth and nose as she looked back every second, making sure she wasn't followed. Her white flowing wedding dress is now torn and full of muddle puddle. She dumped her high stiletto in the opposite direction. She figured that they might follow her and traced her if she dropped them in the same lane she was walking.

Her perfectly styled hair was now messy and the blowing air was sending it strands in different directions. She packed them up in a bun and packed it with the excess on her wedding dress she had torn off earlier because it had been dragging after her.

Today was supposed to be her wedding.

 Her father Piero Mattia, an elderly man known for his stern nature had arranged the marriage between her and another Mafia family, the Lorenzos. Her father had been encountering problems in his business because his investments had taken a rather different turn that he thought. He couldn't keep up with his daily activities and he didn't want anyone to know because It'd ruin his name. 

The only thing that he could do was offer a hand of treaty to the Lorenzos. That family had brought about Piero’s misfortunes but they wouldn't accept. They were the one who introduced the business deals and now, everyone who participated was broke. But as usual, the most powerful one wins. Piero had no other way to safeguard the lives of his immediate family, his wife and two children; Florence and Annabelle. When her father told them that their ship was sinking, she had accepted to take the burden off the family. If she could get into Lorenzo's family and birth a son, she'd get rooted and be able to take the burden off her father's shoulders.

But it was all wasted now.

The preparations for the arrival of the family had drained them of the last drop of coins they had in the family purse, but it was for a greater cause and so they didn't mind. The Lorenzos had to be taken care of. 

The arrival of the Lorenzos had been dramatic as expected. Men in black suits in three different cars arrived. Although she felt sick in her stomach, she swallowed it.

‘They are a well known Mafia family; it's very much expected,’ she had thought then but maybe she was feeling that way because of what was to come.

When the only son in the Lorenzo family; Andrea graced the hall with his presence, her breath caught. His handsome face and cute smile made butterfly knots in her stomach and she began to even see a future with him.

Her father stood up, pouring Andrea a half filled glass of wine in a toast. Andrea stood up and drank every wine to the last drop; a customary behaviour at any wedding. Florence smiled happily but the smile left her face immediately as the glass of wine touched the well decorated table.

Gunshots filled the air, the room darkened within seconds.

She watched with horror as Andrea stuck a sharp steel knife in her father's stomach. His hand held the knife instinctively as he stared deeply into Andre’s face surprised at his betrayal. Before he could recover from that hit, Andrea removed it and slashed him across the veins on his neck. The final blow sent her father on his knees as blood splashed from the veins.

Florence looked around in fear as she watched her mother, her sister and a few of the staff who had been serving the room earlier on the floor, murdered in cold blood. She did the only thing she could think of, she followed the directions of the remaining staff running for their lives. She managed to get out even though she hoped that a stray bullet would hit her.

But it never did. Karma was one bad bitch.

She ran across the field of daffodils at the back of the house. Her speed was fueled by the voice of Andrea, screaming orders to find his bride. But he was no groom, he's a murderous bastard. 

After what seemed like eternity, walking down the miles of field with no directions of where it'll lead her. A headlight shone through the dark night. She contemplated hiding because she wasn't sure if it was one of the Lorenzos cars. The sky rumbled, thunderball striked the sky lightning, the gloomy dark sky for a second. It was going to rain any time soon and the tiny materials of the dress she had on would do nothing to prevent her from the cold.

She got out of her hiding place and ran out in front of the car. The car screeched and came to a stop inches before her. She closed her eyes ready for the impact but it never did. She heard the door open and the driver got out, cursing his ass off.

She looked up slowly, her eyes meeting his cold stare. He was not really old and she figured they'd be of the same age. But, he looked well dressed and well kept. If she wasn't in such a tight situation, she'd have admired his smooth fine face but she had other things that mattered right now. 

Safety. Survival.

“Please…help me,” she said, shivering from the weather which had suddenly gotten colder.

He took in her looks, lips tightened in confusion and indecision. The way his brows furrowed told her he wouldn't give a shit about her. Surprisingly, he did.

“Get in.”

Those two words felt like heaven. Her heart leaped with joy. She scurried after him and got in beside him.

Florence said nothing. She just sat in the car quietly and began to sob as the memories of the day recounted in her head. She was leaving the town that had been her refuge for years for a place of uncertainty. The man beside her said nothing, instead he turned up the volume of the radio, giving her time to get herself together. It took her a while to do that. The man glanced at her briefly and then turned down the volume of the radio.

“You are a Piero, aren't you? You are the one Andrea was looking for, back at the mansion.” Her heart sank as he said this. She wondered if he'll turn the car around to return her.

“I won't,” he said as if he could read her mind. 

The rest of the drive went on with silence. They reached a town about half an hour later. She knew he was going to drop her off anytime soon but he did the opposite.

“Take this,” he said, thrusting a card in her hand. “Call the number behind it, he'll take care of you. It's not safe here for now.” She took the card and got down muttering words of appreciation and watched him zoom off.

That night, she managed to call the number using the phone of a Samaritan. As he said, the man took care of her for years until she was able to build her strength, resilience and courage. He gave her protection and taught her the languages and codes of the cold world till she could stand on her feet. 

At his death, she fend for herself until Massimo came around and she accepted to be his assistant.

Although the memory of the young man who saved her was now faded she hasn't forgotten

the named printed on that card he gave her.

Salvatore Niccolo.