A Mob Boss's Territory (Book 4-About Vincenzo)

26. Christmas Eve 1979 (Part 1)

Weeks Later.

Francesco was sitting in his study looking over his photo albums.It was early morning and it was dark outside. He had the lights off and was relying on the lamp on his desk to see the photos. He was staring at the pictures of his family one by one smiling. He was becoming emotional always thinking of the past when he was gifted with children. Nothing brought tears to his eyes anymore but the birth of his children and reminding himself of their memories did. It was such a beautiful perfect world when they were first born. there was nothing to fear. He had protected them. The 1960s were simple. But then came the seventies. His battles had started. He had been forced into raising his children to become fighters. This life was going to be a battlefield for his children to ensure they survived at all costs. He missed the old days. He truly did. He started at Vincenzo and his tiny figure in his arms. He missed his eldest son so much. It was a lonely Christmas Eve without him. Vincenzo hadn't said he was coming but Francesco had a small ray of hope that Vincenzo was going to get himself to New York for their family time around Christmas. Their family dinner was not going to be complete without him. It didnt matter what happened in Sicily. Francesco didnt care. Francesco had blanked out that part from his mind. He didnt want to think about it. He was going to deal with his Sicilian family later. He had a choice between visiting his past by travelling to Sicily or concentrating on his present in New York which was basically the preparation of Viggo for what he had to become.

There was a knock on the door. He muttered. "Come in." He then watched as his Russian-Colombian rival walked in. He stood up "Sergei."

Sergei Smiled as he walked in. "How is my favourite American friend."

Francesco smiled. He then walked around the table "You mean your only American friend?"

Sergei chuckled and walked to Francesco. He embraced Francesco and kissed him on forehead. He spoke in Russian making Francesco roll his eyes as he broke apart. Russian was one of the languages Francesco was unfamiliar with. He never learnt it. So he spoke "No Russian in my house Sergei."

He watched Sergei cross his arms over his chest as he stared him down "Why. You still haven't learnt Russian. Tsk, Tsk..."

Francesco mirrored his actions and crossed his arms over his chest. Sergei fascinated him. He was half Russian and half Colombian. He was in a strategic place in the criminal underground. He had links to South America and Europe.

Francesco joked "Sergei. I dont think I want to go on the communist watchlist for hiring a Russian tutor. That is real. There is a Cold War going on."

Sergei laughed "Well. These politicians play the Cold War. We play the hot war."

Francesco sighed "That is what I wanted to talk to you about. Take a seat." He then walked to his liquor cabinet.

Sergei sat down on a sofa watching Francesco opening his cabinet. Francesco turned to him "Small, Medium or Large."

Sergei said "Get me a medium one."

Francesco grabbed a small vodka bottle and without turning around threw it at Sergei who caught it mid air." He then grabbed himself a glass and poured himself a small amount of Vodka.

Sergei commented "Is that all you drink?"

Francesco said "Its early morning Sergei. I remember the first time I attended a Russian conference. I mistook vodka bottles as water bottles and downed one. The Russians were drinking it like water..."

Sergei chuckled "I dont drink Vodka like water Francesco. I am only half Russian. My other half likes Tequilas, Rum and Mojitos."

Francesco sat down opposite Sergei as he held his drink in his hand. "So... what happened down town.. Who's doing is it? Did you do it?"