001

CHAPTER ONE

Vicente

~~~~~

Three years.

Three years since I ran, three years since I watched my father lift a gun to his own head and pull the trigger right after telling me to take care on camera.

Three years since the betrayal became a taste I couldn’t wash off.

The city hasn't changed much or maybe it completely had. The street lights were now streaks of golden, not the white ones I used to know before.

The car rolled past buildings I couldn't remember, the place was really different now. “Boss,” Luca’s respectful voice came from the driver’s seat. “We’re close to the new apartment.”

I didn’t answer. My eyes stayed glued on the church that came into view across the street.

"Stop the car."

The car eased to a halt. I stepped out, the familiar cold breeze hitting me slightly on my slightly exposed chest.

Across the street, people moved slowly the church. The church. The building felt familiar, this was the same church my father had dragged me past three years ago.

My dad was never a good man but he loved attending this church at night, I didn't know why he took me there but I had always liked the quietness and everything in it.

"Wait for me. I would be back in some minutes." Luca nodded at me as I walked approaching the church buildings.

As expected, inside the church had changed. Everything now looked expensive, more better than the cheap environment and furnitures I used to know.

I took a seat by the left because that was the only empty spot. I watched as they carried out their mass, I didn't really partake on.

"There would be Confession by tomorrow evening, 7:00pm. Father Kieran, mostly known as Hale would be leading the confession. So all interested Catholics are invited."

Kieran — Hale. The name sounded familiar, the name sounded like the one that had been edged on my mind since years ago.

I guess I was really coming back to find out tomorrow.

I didn't bother waiting for them to end the mass, I walked back to the car, the sound of the church bells echoing behind me. Luca opened the door as soon as he saw me.

“You stayed longer than I expected,” he said.

I got in, pulling the seatbelt across my chest. “Drive.”

He didn’t ask questions and that was one thing I liked about him.

The city lights blurred past again as we drove through narrow turns. I leaned back against the seat, watching the reflection of the whole houses fading in the mirror.

When we reached the apartment, Luca stepped out first and opened the door for me. The building was tall and modern, It wasn't my style but I could manage it.

He handed me the key card and the rest. “Everything’s ready inside. Security has been checked twice.”

I nodded. “Good. You can leave after you bring in the files from the North office branch tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, Boss.”

He left, and I walked in alone.

The place looked new, I dropped my coat on the couch and moved toward the window. The view was nice, at least Luca knew I loved seeing the night lights and traffics.

He has been with me since my Dad sent me out of the country the if his death before he passed out.

I had worked hard like a dog, clawing my way up through blood and loyalty until the name Vicente Russo started to echo again in the underworld, not as the son of a dead man, but as the man himself.

My reflection stared back at me through the window, the city’s golden lights scattering across the glass.

My face looked sharper now, the once chubby cheeks where long gone, the ones bright grey eyes were now colder.

“Three years,” I muttered again ina low voice. “And now we start.”

I turned away from the window and headed into the bedroom. Luca had arranged everything neatly, he knew I didn't like suits but he arranged them neatly in the wardrobe for occasions, he left the normal button down shirts unusually wore in the front line, a loaded gun on the nightstand, a single photo frame faced down.

I picked up the frame, It was the only photo I kept, the photo of I and my father, standing beside one of his cars. He looked proud with a hand slinged on my shoulder. That same hand that pulled a trigger right in front of me.

I placed the photo back down. The bitterness burned through my throat like acid.

The phone on the bed vibrated. A message popped up from Luca.

~ LUCA: The church priest’s file you asked for. I'm sending the details now.

I unlocked the phone and scrolled through.

Name: Father Kieran Hale.

Background: An Unknown Orphan

Occupation: Parish Priest of St. Philomena Cathedral.

Age: 27.

Former Occupation: A church worker.

I scrolled down to see a picture attached down. He really had changed, his once tough body now looked fragile under my gaze, his faltering fake smile looked clean like he couldn't hurt a fly.

A church worker? I chuckled at his confident.

My jaw tightened as I watched the same man who gave my father up. The reason everything ended that night.

He was a priest now?

I almost laughed again. The irony was bitter and almost beautiful. The man who destroyed my family now hid behind the cross, pretending to serve God.

I sat down slowly, letting the anger sink in.

So that was his new life? He now lives in a pretentious holy life?

How bad because mine was different, mine was all about revenge and blood.

I tilted my head back and exhaled, he was the reason I was going to be in the church tomorrow night at 7:00 p.m. for what he termed as confession.

My lips curved into a low dangerous smile.

How fitting.

The sinner would be meeting the priest.

And this time, I wouldn’t be the one confessing.

I reached for the cigarette pack in the drawer, lit one, and leaned back on the chair. The smoke curled upward like a ghosts in the dim light.

“Father Kieran Hale,” I whispered, tasting the name to feel how it tasted like, and as expected it tasted like flies. Good because that was how I was going to take him as.

“Let’s see if God can save you from me.”