MarcoWe didn’t speak on the drive there. What was there to say? The silence between Francesco and me was heavy. It wasn’t anger; the anger had been pushed to the side. It was sadness.The silence between us was numbing. It was the kind of silence that follows when someone who meant something to you is gone, and there’s nothing left to fill the space he once occupied.Franco was more than one of our men. He was family.His widow lived in a modest villa on the far end of the city, tucked behind rows of olive trees and a gate that hadn’t seen fresh paint in years. I used to tease him about it; I called it a shoebox with a fence.He’d laugh, always said it was just enough for him, his wife, and the two boys who always ran barefoot through the courtyard. It had been his parents’ house, his childhood home where he and his brother grew up.Now they’d never see him again.Francesco rang the bell. My hands were clenched in fists by my sides, nails digging into my palms. I had done this too ma
MarcoThe silence in my study was deceptive, a hoax that didn’t last long. While everything else appeared calm on the outside, I was suffocating on the inside, waiting with bated breath for any word about the deal with the Chellinis.It was more than just another negotiation, it was going to be a lifetime business pact. If this went through, I’d be the sole supplier for their entire new drug operation. That meant expansion. We would gain power.The quiet tick of the clock and the slow scratch of my pen as I signed off the last shipment invoice were the only sounds in the room.My whiskey sat untouched beside me. I hadn’t taken a sip. I couldn’t afford to. Not yet. Only when this was done, when everything was sealed.Then the door burst open.“Boss!” The soldier stumbled in, breathless. He didn’t even bother with protocol. His face was pale, like he’d seen a ghost. His eyes were wide with panic. “It’s the port… the deal’s been hit.”I stared at him, frozen. “What?”“There were gunshots
SixWord had reached me about the deal. The Falcones and the Chellini brothers were meeting tonight at the docks, a significant event, as the Chellinis were notorious. An alliance with them was powerful, given their control over the arms trade in the city.If they established a business relationship with the Falcones, especially now that things were rocky in the Falcones’ household, it would offer them an extra shield.Marco would become untouchable. I had worked in Marco’s security long enough to know where this business deal would take place: the abandoned seaport at the outskirts of the city.I arrived early, at 6:12 p.m. The sun had dipped low enough to cast long shadows between the containers. The smell of saltwater and motor oil lingered in the air.I parked a street over and moved on foot, sticking to the side alleys that snaked around the port. I stayed in the shadows and scanned the area.Point men were always stationed high, at least one on the water tower, two on the crates
Francesco...she was like a child again. Giggling excitedly, she did her hair and makeup too. That image of her is ingrained in my memory. It was a version of her I hadn’t seen since she lost everything," he continued. “You know she’s always put up this brave front. Always acted tough and hard, and to see her be happy that day, truly happy. That’s how I like to remember her. I see her in the moment again, and that’s how I can forget her lying down on those stone steps in a pool of her own blood.”My jaw hardened as I pictured the image he had painted. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I looked away to hide them from him. I hadn’t shown weakness in front of him. How did I expect him to be strong if I was so weak?“I think I failed her, Francesco,” his voice broke.I turned to him to see he was fighting back tears.“This is on me. I should have seen it coming. I should have done something to stop it. I should have killed him the moment you told me about him and Arabella. I should have kil
FrancescoI looked up at the towering Gothic cathedral, hiding amongst the other taller modern buildings in the city. It looked ancient and so out of place, like it didn’t belong here—just like me.What business did the devil have with the church, after all? But believe it or not, this used to be my family’s abode. I never understood the pact the mafia had with the church.It was like the church was a faction of the mafia cloaked in crosses and the statue of the Virgin Mary. Or maybe it was more intertwined than I liked to see it. After all, what was the church without the devil?It wasn’t as pure as I remembered it, as it used to be when I was only a child. Maybe it was because, as I climbed those old stone steps, I could still see Nonna’s blood flowing down them.I could still see her lifeless body lying on those cold stone steps. There was a crack at the back of her head where she had hit it when she fell. My hands balled into fists as I inhaled deeply. My steps didn’t falter as I
ArabellaI was still taken aback by his confession when he leaned in close and stole another kiss from me. There was nothing soft or slow about the way he kissed me.He kissed me with the urgency of a hungry man. I didn’t think I would be able to contain my feelings. It was overwhelming, how much I needed this man, how much I loved him.When he pulled away, his eyes raked my body, a blend of lust and desire. “As much as I love this dress on you, Arabella…” his fingers traced a path down my collarbone to my clavicle and down to the valley between my breasts, “I think I’d like it better off.” And without as much as a warning, he yanked it clean off my body. The crumpled material dropped to the floor.I was right when I said he had altered my brain chemistry a little bit, because why did I suddenly feel a throbbing between my legs? He just ruined my favorite dress.So there I was, sitting on the dining table wearing the same flimsy underwear. My breath came out in short, ragged spurts as