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CHAPTER ONE
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2025-01-07 04:19:17Alfredo Fabri POV
As you might already known, I am Alfredo Fabri.
Within the Family, I simply go by Fabri, but outside the Family, they call me “The Butcher”.
Why, you ask?. Well, if you stick around long enough, then you might just find out.
All my life, I've always been second.
Second this, second that, and currently I am Sottocapo, ranking as the second to the Boss of the Colombo Family. I know, it sucks, but that's reality.
A street riff raff once called me “second to none” once. Unfortunately for him, he neither knew my history nor how much I've grown to detest the word. I didn't ask him what he actually meant by that, and I can't do that now either, because he no longer resides on planet earth.
È finita (it is finished). Yes, he is dead. I know right, How did that happen?
What have I done about changing the condition of things, you say? Well, I've fought tooth and nail and I've gone lengths to conquer beasts and the likes of them with my very bare hand.
You don't believe me now, do you?Well your answer doesn't matter, you can see for yourself.
__
“Lil Joe,you feel so big now don't you?”
The Don, Paolo Romano's voice rang across the rooms of the Colombo’s family's Palatial. It didn't require a soothsayer to tell the members that Paolo, “The Jackal” as he was notoriously known as, was furiously mad.
It had for weeks now become a trait that seemed unavoidable to the residents of the Family, and in all honesty, it was becoming hella annoying in here.
Paolo spoke to no one besides the Consigliere, Marco and I, the Underboss about the mess we had going on with Lil Joe.
“When do I get my money?, you're messing with the wrong Dog, Joe, I’m certain you're aware” He continued, honing out flames from the bellows of his mouth.
It was popular opinion that “The Jackal” wasn't one to be messed with, and anyone who had an outstanding business with him, made no mistakes to leave it pending. But Lil Joe, an associate of the Colombo's had overnight seemed to grow some wings, and had gone rogue with The Don's money. Rumor had it that he had sworn an oath of loyalty to the Gambino's.
You see, in this line of business, Loyalty for your family is a valued commodity. It is an unspoken notion but it is loud enough for anyone with two ears to hear.
“Don't hang up on me Lil Joe, Dont-” The look on the Don's face expressed his shock. He needn't say another word Lil Joe had hung up on Paolo. In that moment, I guessed that we all had for a flash moment pondered over the guts Lil Joe had seemed to acquire.
“That lil piece of crap!!!” The Don went on cursing as he rummaged the room with his unsure pacing.
“I told you not to associate directly with Lil Joe, it just speaks so lowly of what you've become.” I said as I took a long sip from the cup of coffee I had in hand while everything played out.
“With all due respect” I added as Paolo flashed a death glare towards my direction as if to question the temerity of my statement.
“All I'm saying is this, What would the Family say when they find out that the Don got duped by an associate?” I continued, letting out a sarcastic chuckle.
“Watch it Fabri” Marco flashed
“With all due respect” I added again, gesturing with both arms in the air to signify that I meant no harm.
“Look Marco, I am simply trying to be plain here, void of sentiment. The Don has nothing to talk about with a mere associate but again Sentiment was brought Lil Joe into the picture and here's the result”
“I had voiced my opinions against assigning Lil Joe with a task that huge, but then again, I'm not Consigliere, so my opinions hold on weight when they're in direct contrast to yours Marco” I added in a breath, flashing a glance towards Marco's direction.
“But you have to admit, at times I give way better advice than you do. Because now, had it been my words were taken for it, we'd have kept Lil Joe put, in his place, and we'd still have our frickin $30,000 in the bag” I finished, my voice over the top this time.
“Don't you put that on me—”
“ Stop it!” Paolo lashed out, cutting Marco off, banging his hands against the sleek boards of the table. I could have sworn that they didn't get off scarred.
“What's been done has been done”
“And you're right Fabri, Lil Joe could have been kept in his place and he still can!” Paolo added, a glint flashing in his eyes.
“What do you mean Still Can? Lil Joe's apparently under the umbrella of them disgusting Gambino's. How he got in, I don't know, but I do know he's got some coverage” I said, letting down my cup of coffee.
“I think we should break the news to the Family. Marco, I suggest you take the blame for this. You are Consigliere for a reason and you can come up with something. It seems like the only resolution at this point, and it'd give us some leverage because now we can work together to get the money back” I let out , directing my glance towards Marco.
“What do you mean take the blame for it?” Marco added, unable to hide his disapproval to all I had just said.
“You heard me right Marco, You're Consigliere, this is where you step in, make sure everything falls in place, protect the best interest of the Don” I spewed, but the expression on Marco's face signified that he wasn't having any of it and he'd give anything to leave the room that instant.
“Why don't you take the fall for it?” He said, fondling with both of his hands as he spoke.
In all Honesty, it was a funny sight. The thing about Consigliere, tough as they seem, loyal as they might be, rationale and smart as they portray themselves to be, in there somewhere, there's just a self will that does nothing but think about themselves. A little heat, and you'd see them crack under the intensity.
Despite undergoing the ceremonial oath of loyalty with the saints, there's still a remnant of self will that fights the bulk of loyalty attained. It's the basic concept of being a Human.
“Stay in your lane, Marco,” I warned.
“I'll be back, I need to go take care of something” Paolo said, cutting in abruptly, reaching for the pistol beneath the table’s drawer and tucking it into the length of his pocket.
We'd suggested tagging along, but he stopped us from doing so. He was most definitely annoyed by the back and forth between me and Marco, but we never did get an opportunity to apologize, because that was the last we saw of him.
Dead or alive we are yet to find out.
Bab terbaru
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT
The lights were low, golden, casting a honeyed sheen over the velvet-lined walls. Cigar smoke hung thick in the air, curling around the crystal chandelier like fingers unwilling to let go. Jazz played somewhere in the background—low, lazy, sultry—just enough to fill the spaces between silence and intent. The room smelled of expensive perfume, sweat, and gun oil, a cocktail of danger and pleasure that clung to everything.He sat in the center of it all, in a wide leather armchair that looked more like a throne. His suit was charcoal, the fabric soft and cut to precision, the shirt beneath unbuttoned just enough to reveal the edge of a tattoo, ink faded with time, but still dangerous. His voice, when he spoke, was deep enough to still the room. It didn’t need to be raised. It was a voice that demanded silence, and it got it.The phone was a heavy, old-school rotary fixed to the table beside his drink. He liked the weight of it, the resistance in the dial, the way it felt like calling so
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
Alfredo Fabri's POV The room was warm with the scent of incense, amber and clove, slow-burning from the corner table. I sniffed repeatedly, surprised. What was all of this? The candlelight flickered, dancing across the curve of her bare shoulder, casting shifting shadows on the silk of her robe, deep crimson, tied loosely at the waist, clinging to the shape of her as though the fabric itself didn’t want to let go.I breathed, incense filling my senses as I watched her hover over the bed. She moved like water, each step calculated but appearing unbothered, aimless. Her hips swayed in that unthinking rhythm that wasn’t really unthinking at all. The fabric of her robe fluttered with each motion, revealing slivers of skin and then concealing them just as quickly, her neckline dipped low. The silk parted just enough to let my eyes wander, and I let them.She couldn't possibly be doing what I thought she was trying to do.I stood by the window, arms crossed, face unreadable. I watched her
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY SIX
Alexandra Dellarosa's POV “Roseville, please.” I begged, staring back at her to show that I felt what she felt, at the very least. My eyes searched hers for something, recognition, understanding, anything to prove that the pain between us was shared, not one-sided. I continued to grip her hands, hoping desperately that calm would return to her. My fingers held tighter than before, not out of force but out of fear, as if letting go might shatter what little steadiness we had left.I watched her eyes soften, hands dropping to cover her face before she broke down again. Her cries were deep and throaty, reflecting what she'd pent up all of this time. The tears had a familiarity to them, one that was strange and unprecedented, but there nonetheless and was to be taken as it was. So that was what I did. I accepted it. I opened up, taking her in my hands, and crying right along with her. I let go, no longer holding back, my arms tightening around her fragile frame as if I could steady both
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE
Alexandra Dellarosa's POV A soft knock pulled me from my reverie. It wasn’t loud, nor was it urgent, but it was enough to break the quiet stretch of time that had held me captive. The morning had been lazy, the kind that drifted on without purpose. I opened my eyes to find the bed beside me empty, the space where someone else might have been only a faint echo of its usual warmth. I sighed and rolled over, stretching, the movement lazy and reluctant. The house around me was still, quiet in that way it had when no one else was awake, and for a moment, I just lay there, listening to the soft hum of my own thoughts.There was nothing to do, or so it seemed. I had long ago given up on any particular plan for the day, instead filling it with whatever came to mind. It had become routine, almost comforting. A slow, steady routine that I didn’t question. I got up, shuffled to the bathroom, and began the motions of getting ready for nothing. I brushed my teeth, chose my clothes from a wardrobe
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR
Alfredo Fabri's POV The cold air clung to my face, sharp and biting as I moved through the trees. The scent of damp earth and pine filled my lungs, grounding me even as my heart thundered in my chest. I kept low, boots brushing silently over leaves and broken twigs. The others were close, their figures flickering like shadows between the trunks.I gripped my knife tighter, the worn leather handle warm in my palm. Ahead, the faint glow of lanterns lit the clearing where the trucks were parked. Voices carried on the wind, low and careless. They thought they were alone out here.I smiled grimly.The first one spotted us — a wiry man with a rifle slung over his shoulder. His mouth opened, breath curling in the cold. I lunged before he could speak. My knife caught him just below the ribs, punching through his jacket and sinking deep. He let out a wet grunt, fingers clawing at my wrist as his legs buckled. I twisted the blade and felt the strength leave him.The gunfire started before his
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY THREE
Alfredo Fabri's POV The road stretched out ahead, winding through narrow streets and past shuttered shops. Buildings loomed on either side, dark windows reflecting faint glimmers from our headlights. The others trailed behind me, their cars following close enough that I could see the faint shapes of faces in the mirrors. The street stores began taking their wares in, the clouds promising a grave rain, turning the sky a dark colour. The weight in my chest grew heavier with each turn. Something felt wrong, though I could not yet put a name to it.We reached the outskirts of the city, where cobbled streets gave way to dirt roads and open fields. The air seemed colder out here, the wind sharper as it whistled through the trees. Giovanni muttered something from the backseat, but I barely heard him. My eyes were fixed on the road ahead.The first shot cracked through the night like a whip. Glass shattered and I barely had time to curse before the windshield sprayed across my chest. I slam
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY TWO
Alfredo Fabri's POV I threw on my jacket, pulling the fabric snug around my shoulders. The buttons slipped through their holes one by one, my fingers moving more from muscle memory than conscious thought. The air outside would be sharp this morning, biting at the skin, and I didn’t want to rush back just because I'd forgotten to dress properly. As I turned toward the door, I slowed my steps, glancing back at her one last time. She was still curled beneath the covers, her head nestled between her arm and a pillow that seemed to swallow half her face. The faintest rise and fall of her breath softened the room’s silence. She was beautiful, as always. The weight of her day had settled into her bones hours ago, and now she was still, wrapped in peace. I allowed myself a moment longer before easing the door shut behind me.The corridor outside was colder than I'd expected, the draft sneaking down from the vents along the ceiling. My boots struck the floor louder than I'd intended, and I a
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY ONE
Alexandra Dellarosa's POV I just stared at him from my spot on the door, my face twisting into a grimace. My brows furrowed, my lips curling in frustration. Was this all because I had said I wasn’t jealous? Seriously? I rolled my eyes, exhaling sharply as the realization finally dawned on me. So that’s what this was — a tantrum. Way to throw a fit, Fabri.It wasn’t even about jealousy. I knew that. I wasn’t jealous; I just cared about him. That was all. It wasn’t some petty possessiveness or insecurity, just genuine concern, the kind that sat heavy on your chest and lingered in your mind. But sure, twist it however you want. I rolled my eyes again, this time slower, the irritation settling deeper.Still, I knew I couldn’t leave things like this. With a sigh, I pushed myself off the door and walked toward the bed, bracing myself to apologize. The last thing I needed was another argument. Not now. Not when I’d finally managed to wrestle with my own emotions long enough to forgive him f
OMERTÀ CHAPTER FIFTY
Alfredo Fabri's POV I smiled back at her lips, my gaze lingering a little too long, as if they held some unspoken promise. Without hesitation, I followed her up the stairs like a lost puppy, my thoughts consumed by her presence. Gina, once a sharp and persistent thought in the back of my mind, now felt like a fleeting whisper drowned out by the magnetic pull of the woman before me.The sound of the door clicking shut behind me felt louder than it should have, a sharp punctuation that seemed to close me off from the rest of the world. She stood in front of it, her back against the wood, her smile curling at the corners like smoke rising from a flame. There was something unsettling about it, yet I found myself unable to look away. My pulse quickened, a dull thud echoing in my ears.“Kiss me.”The words poured from her lips like silk, soft and smooth, yet heavy with intent. Each syllable seemed to hang in the air, wrapping around me like a warm breath against my skin. It wasn’t a reques
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