Giovanni De Rege

Raffaele De Rege

Napoli, Italia

Raffaele roamed the narrow and gritty streets of Naples for no other reason than sizing up potential cubs – young minds that would do the bidding of the De Rege Family for the right price. There was no harm in having them on standby in the eyes of mafioso.

One of those cubs came along – they always did – and unbeknownst to him, had the eyes of a capo on him. The rattle of the paint can and cheering on of his friends greeted his ears right before he began writing on top of another botched attempt of graffiti art.

Underneath Raffaele's mask, grew a mischievous smile. "Hey!" Once he got the loiterers to look his way, he pointed at their vandalism. "That's my fucking house!"

All boys, except for one, ran the opposite way after getting caught red-handed.

Raffaele checked the time on his watch as the boy kept his wary eyes on him. "Shouldn't you be in school right now?"

"I don't believe you," the boy said coolly despite his instincts telling him to run away from the stranger's looming presence. "You look too rich."

"Are they your friends?" Raffaele pointed in the direction where the rest of the group had run off to.

"Sì."

He shook his head. "They are not your friends. Look how quickly they left your side."

"They are...and anyone would have done that."

"You are still defending them?"

Raffaele watched the boy go silent, unable to come up with a clever answer. He confiscated the spray paint can, the lightness in weight telling him it had been used plenty of times and threw it in the foul-smelling garbage dumpster behind him.

Mouth agape and eyes wide open, the boy stared in disbelief.

"What is your name?" Raffaele asked.

"Dino." When Raffaele rose his brows at him in expectancy, he gave in and told him his surname, "Capelli."

"You gave that information out way too easily. Didn't your parents teach you anything?"

"You're the one who asked me!" Dino squinted his eyes, clearly confused by the stranger's comment. "And don't talk about my parents!"

Raffaele waved his hand dismissively and mumbled, "Capelli. Actually, I know your father. We're good friends."

"Really?" He raised the volume of his voice and asked, "What's his name?"

"Giuseppe."

"You're not going to tell him, right?" Dino glanced at the graffiti on the wall.

"Tell him what?" Raffaele winked and cocked his head toward the end of the street. "Come on, it smells around here and I want to have word with your father."

Dino hesitated in following, not sure whether there was any truth to be found in the stranger's words or to go with his own instincts. In the end, curiosity won.

Relieved that the man wasn't going to rat him out, he told him, "You're a pretty alright guy."

"Thank you." Raffaele did a gentlemanly bow. "I think so too."

Raffaele avoided stepping on the pavement its cracks and potholes, not wanting the puddle water to dirty his shoes. The action made the young boy look funny at him. They made a turn into another alley with high buildings on either side. Nearing a sandy-coloured apartment block – that Dino called home –, Raffaele decided it was a good time to give Dino a life lesson.