𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

45 | Let Him Watch Over and Protect Us

I'm not religious. Neither is my immediate family, although stereotypically most western Mafia groups are grown from Italian heritage. This means that when someone is born into The Family, they are baptised, and when someone dies, their funeral is held at a Catholic church. Although the ceremonies are far from Catholic, far from holy and far from traditional.

It seems kind of wrong to have our funerals in a Catholic church considering their entire religion is based on doing good for God or whatever. We literally kill people. Surely that is a sin. We steal, we cheat, we lie. All sins too right?

This church is beautiful though. It's ceilings are multiple storeys high, the cathedral windows forged from coloured stained glass which shon a beautiful light down onto us. I don't think consuming alcohol is allowed in a church but everyone's doing it anyway.

Dad laid in an open casket up the front, which made me semi-uncomfortable. He was dressed in a fine suit and had his hair and makeup done to make him look, uh, less dead? I don't know why they do that actually, I get that nobody wants to see their loved one looking all pale and dead but like, everyone knows they're dead so why make them look undead?

I stayed almost emotionless throughout the entire day, barely shedding a single tear. The past few days have been the same really, after the initial night of Dad's death where I was an emotional wreck, I am led to believe I no longer have emotions left to show. I'm just, nothing.

Although I had to pretend in my eulogy.

"Growing up around Dad and his work, I saw the tenacity and devotion he had to The Family; he would be willing to drop anything and everything for one of his boys. Even before he became the Godfather, he was a rock of stability and a source of strength for the whole family. I'm sure you can all agree.

My father was a man who infused his criminal life into the most domestic of tasks. I remember how he would turn my bedtime routine into some violence fuelled version of classic stories. For example, I grew up thinking that Tinkerbell used her magic to give Peter Pan an AK-47 to kill Captain Hook with. I remember my Kindergarten teacher calling up my parents to discuss this with them and Dad just telling her 'real life isn't a fairytale, they need to know how shit really goes down'.

Whenever he'd get home late from doing god knows what, he'd always leave a chocolate by my bedside table for me to wake up to. To the copious amount of convenience store employees who saw a questionable man come in and buy a single bar of chocolate in the wee hours of the morning, I thank you for your secret keeping abilities.

Dad taught me everything I know about this world. Whilst other kids were at scout camp learning how to tie reef knots and timber hitches, I was learning how to tie a man to the rafters by his wrists. When my friends at school were at home watching Disney Channel, Dad was pointing out all the inaccuracies to me in the movie The Godfather; explaining that if you really were to sever someone's jugular, there would be much more blood than depicted in the film.

I think the departure of my father is a great loss to everyone here today. Not only as the godfather to us all, but a father to the Holland family. May we always honour and remember him," I spoke, scooping up a handful of red rose petals from a small chalice in front of me and clutching them in my hand.

The audience of attendees did the same, passing ornate bronze bowls down each of the aisles in the church; a ritual amongst Mafia funerals. Each with their dominant hand, they scooped a handful of red rose petals and gripped them in their hand tightly before raising it to their mouths.

We all kissed our closed fists before tossing the crushed petals into the air. A crimson sea of red rained down on all of the guests; symbolising Dad's soul forever watching over us, protecting us.

After the ceremony the majority of The Family stayed to drink, socialise and celebrate the life of Dad. Of course not everyone in our mafia was invited, mostly just the high profile members. Mum was beside herself all day, she could barely get a few sentences out before crying again. Paddy was similar, I had my arm around him during the whole ceremony other than when I stood for my eulogy.

Y/N has been my rock throughout this process. It's only been two days since Dad passed but she has made sure I've eaten, showered and tried to get me to sleep. I looked like shit; we all did, but she made everything just that little bit better.

"How are you feeling Mum?" I asked, standing next to her as she held her hand to Dad's cold dead chest. She dabbed a handkerchief under her eyes and sighed.

"Like there is half of my heart missing," she said quietly, running her thumb along dads cheek as she cupped his face. I don't know how she's doing it, touching a dead body so fondly.

"Guess that's what real love feels like when the other person is gone huh?" I said, putting my arm around her and pulling her into a hug.

"You'll feel the same one day Tommy. You'll find someone who makes you feel whole, like spending any time away from them leaves you feeling empty," she said against my chest, pulling away and sniffling.

"I know the feeling already don't you worry," I said softly smiling at Y/N across the church who was talking to Harrison and Robyn.

"Really? I thought she was just a phase Tom," Mum said kind of rudely.

"I know you never like anyone I date but you have to accept the fact I really love Y/N, I really do think she's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with," I said turning back to my mother.

"I liked Sofia," she scoffed under her breath.

"But I didn't," I retorted, kissing Mum briefly on the cheek in annoyance before making my way over to Y/N, Haz and Robyn. Y/N put her arm around me and leant her head on my shoulder, smiling softly at me. She looked kind of hot despite being at a funeral; an all black dress with heels and natural looking makeup.

"How you feeling mate?" Haz asked, giving me one of those 'bro handshakes' that guys do. Again, something I never really understand because it just seems like a half-assed handshake.

"You know, how you'd expect someone to feel when their dad was murdered by a spineless cop," I shrugged casually.

"Have you thought about what happens next?" Robyn says politely, her arm linked with Haz's.

"Next? Uh, we cremate him and then take the urn home and sit with a jar of ash on some decorative shelf for the rest of our lives. What do you mean?" I huff, not understanding her question, yet they took it as dark humour.

"No, I meant with The Family... Now that Jack is in prison and Dom is, well, he passed away... That leaves you and Haz next in line. Well, technically it leaves you to lead because you're blood relatives of Dominic..." Robyn explained further.

I nodded slowly, now coming to the realisation that by Mafia law: I was going to be the new Godfather.

***

A/N: Wow, what a roller coaster this book was. I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter of Method to His Madness and it has been my all time favourite book to write. But, I will have a sequel to this called Method to Her Madness! The first few chapters will be published by the time you read this x

Like always, I love you all, you are all amazing and I couldn't have done any of this without the amazing love and support I receive from every one of you xoxo