LucaIt was late evening when I arrived back in Boston.I wasn’t feeling good. Blood had been shed today. I didn’t do wet work, but I might as well have. It was to my orders my men maimed and murdered. Out there somewhere in the burning depths of hell there was another stain on my wall of sin. Sometimes I dreamed of that wall. I dreamt I was washing it. Meticulously, washing, but as soon as I finished the ugly stain returned.But it was not that, that bothered me now.It was a feeling inside my body. A feeling that there must be something better than this. The wealth, the power, the control, the respect, the never ending parade of women, the dignity of my position, all of it felt like nothing. Dust in my mouth. There was no happiness in my heart.I was numb.At times like this I wished I could become as blasé as my father about the dog eat dog world we lived in. “What are you crying about? He’d kill you in a heartbeat if the shoe was on the other foot,” he used to say when I was a lot
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