If you can't go back to your mother's womb, you'd better learn to be a good fighter.
~Red Azalea~
𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚
"Are you sure you can handle it?" My father asked for the third time, a deep worried furrow on his forehead.
"It's okay if you cannot," Uncle Rom mumbled, "we can handle it for you," my father added
I shook my head. "We can manage it," I said, my voice stable, convincingly. It's been two hours since the patriarchs came in, one of which we stayed enclosed in the same office where we had a conference calls hours ago after our family was shot at.
We were all there. The children, our mothers who had stood their ground not to be excluded from the meeting, and the bodyguards.
"It's not a good idea." My mother's troubled voice came into the room in a soft tone.
"It's their choice, Tesoro." my father told her. He was seated at the edge of the conference room near where Uncle Raph sat, an unlit cigarette dropping at the corner of his mouth that his voice came out muffled when he spoke.
"That doesn't mean it's a good idea," Aunt Mia retorted, he arms across her chest, on her right sat Lia's mother, looking pensive, but her gaze remained fixed on Uncle Raph as if she wanted him to convince us not to do as we had decided.
But Lia and I were not going to change our mind. This was our legacy, if we were going to inherit it, it's time we introduced ourselves in the only way those people understood. By showing courage, confidence and a little cruelty.
"We could go with you," Nic countered, but almost everyone in the room said no.
It was decided, albeit begrudgingly, that Lia and I would deal with it.
"We need to speak to Lia and Luca alone." Uncle Raph announced. Everyone jumped to their feet, scraping of chairs as they stood, and murmurs filled the room, but our moms stayed put.
"You too..." The three men said.
"Whatever you say to them can be said in front of us." my mother said. "No, it can't." Uncle Raph said, his voice gentle yet decisive.
"You're different from your children. We understand your fear, objections, hesitation. The dread and anxiety that is about to take over your entire body until you see them return back, unharmed. But this is their battle too, if you want them safe for a long time, this is the chance to show our enemies that our children can indeed defend themselves. Their chance to establish their reign."
"But this is too dangerous. I mean the three of you can take care of it this one time." my mom argued "Sure we can, but there will be a next time. When do you think is enough time for them to handle something like this?" The women fell silent, none of them was willing to voice the only answer they could accept—never.
I knew how they felt—their angst. I would too if I were a parent.
"We don't want them to go. Believe me when I tell you, we are afraid as you are." Uncle Ralph stood, pacing across the room, his hands behind his back. "But we cannot say no. It's their right to decide, our job is to guide them, and we will."
After fifteen minutes or so, our mothers agreed to leave. None of us said anything for a while after they left, the silence only underlined the tension in the room. Lia sat beside me in stillness, her breath soft, he hands clasped together on her lap. I knew she was a little worried, and so was I. It is human nature to be anxious when one is about to be in the same room with the people who want them dead. We were no different.
But we knew the rules; we were taught the rules when we were old enough to understand death. That is our advantage, and as Uncle Ralph once put it, this game is rigged in our favour.
"The man on the left is Alberto Monaci," Uncle Raph says in a rough tone glaring at the man on the screen. He looked great for his age, I thought, staring at him too. He wore a Burberry coat, a Burberry scarf around his neck, and a black fedora. "He was responsible for kidnapping Lia's mother from Brazil, we told you about it once. Remember?"
"Yes, when we were thirteen, I think."Lia confirmed, clearing her voice. "The man on his right is his son, Cesare Monaci. He is responsible for the shooting. The guy with blue hair is his nephew—his sister's son."
"The father could have arranged too...I mean he probably has a grudge on our family." Lia added.
"Possible, but not in this case?"
"Why not?"
"Because Alberto has Alzheimer. This is the last photo of him in public two years ago."
"Okay. Why do you think Cesare shot at us?" I asked. "As far as we know other than the kidnapping, our family hasn't fraternized with them since."
"True." my father mumbled. He was leaning against the window, one foot on the wall while smoking his third cigarette. "We think he made a deal with someone under our family to rattle us."
"Who?" I whispered, anger boiling in my body.
"Rattle? They shot Luc!" Lia almost shouted.
"We know, sweetheart. That is part of the reason we have authorized you to deal with this matter as you see fit."
Lia turned her face towards me at the same time I turned mine to her. We both nodded. "We are ready," I said
*******************************
We planned our attack for five days. Our fathers helped, relentlessly telling us how to go about it.
We had plan A, B, and C. And if none of them work, uncle Rom said, "get the hell out of there."
But we wouldn't fail. I was not prepared to fail, and neither was Lia.
"The family is meeting in Rome." Uncle Raph said, motioning us to the monitor. The guy that shot me came onto the screen, I had seen so many images of him since this training started I felt as if I had met the guy before. Marco—a man who changed the colour of his hair as often as K-pop idols, not that I had a problem with it, however the latter had a reason to dye theirs—it was part of their branding, why did Marco do it?
"Come back in one piece." the patriarchs said. We were in an office away from home. This meeting however had an additional family friend, Jesús and his son Javier who was insisting on coming with us.
"No," I told him.
*************************
I have been to fights, but never into war. If this goes as Lia and I had decided, it might be both. Today we might create enemies; an enmity that may go on for generations. But as much as we might not want to, ignoring it may be perceived as a weakness and I will not have anyone question our position of power.
My heartbeat beat fast as we drove to where Monaci held a family gathering. Our car is between three others, Lia sitting beside me at the back of the car.
"Guys, you know it's okay to change your mind. Have the elders deal with this." Dev told us. He was sitting on the passenger's side while Matteo navigated the car to the hotel which would forever change our lives.
"No," Lia and I said at the same time.
When we arrived at the hotel, Matteo talked the security guy into letting us use their underground garage to drop us there. I held Lia's hand, and she squeezed mine before gently dropping it.
One cars were strategically parked. Not all of them entered the hotel, two were parked outside the gate in case we didn't make it to the parking lot.
Once Matteo joined us, we walked through to the private room which held the Monaci family. Dev tackled one guard at the door while Matteo shoved the other into the arms of our entourage.
Without much effort or fuss, one of our guys opened the door and we entered a room full of faces we had spent the last couple of days looking at and learning their names. Surprising, no women. I guess good old Monaci was one of the men who held the conviction that women cannot handle much business, perhaps he says they are emotional and only good for one this; procreation. His loss.
"No women," Lia said, her voice steady, her mouth stretched into a mocking smile. Our casual entry took them by shock, by the time they unreashed their guns, our teams had their weapons up, ready to shoot.
"No cameras." I said in a soft tone, as if I had come in peace while the truth was, I wanted to burn this whole fucking room to the ground with Monaci's whole family.
"Matteo," I called.
"Its been taken care of." he answered. He understood what I was asking without me having to spell it out.
I nodded, running my eyes to the people in the room, my gaze resting on Marco for more than a heartbeat.
I cleared my tone and said, "I have always wondered why God killed the firstborns of one community and then turned around and claimed the same from another as His. What's so important about them that they can be used to punish apeople, and become a redemption for another." I paused, as the sounds of guns clicking filled my ears, yet my voice remained firm, my stance solid. I felt no fear even with guns pointed at me from angry faces that looked at me with both fascination and mockery but no panic.
"I think it's because they are the heirs—they are the evidence that the family name will not die but continue, I could be wrong, though." I shrugged. "Which is a pity because I have been into enough sermons to know and understand."
"You're not here to give us a sermon now, are you boy?"
I gave him a mocking smile, shrugging I mumbled, "No. But that is why you shot me. I'm the firstborn, I'm the heir, but you see, even though you kill me, another will rise, and to be honest, you're better with me. He kills first and asks questions later. I'm told I'm more reasonable." I chuckle, a self-deprecating laugh that makes me feel better about our current situation.
Suddenly, I draw out my gun and point it at Riccardo Monaci—Don Monaci's firstborn. He was a rotund man with brown hair, uneven eyes and a slippery grip on his gun. I now understood why Cesare had sent his nephew to shoot me.
Two families against each other. "Why did you want me dead?" I asked, no shouted was more like it, my gun fixed on Riccardo's forehead, while my eyes were set on Cesare's.
"I didn't want you dead?" He answered in a steady tone even though I held a gun on his son. "It was a message."
I raised my eyebrows.
The patriarchs thought that too.
"What was the message? That you can kill me anytime you want? "
"It's complicated."
"Uncomplicate it then." Lia snaps, which makes Cesare glare at her with distaste.
"Look, we don't have much time here, Don Cesare. Don't make us waste the little we have on you."
"This is a business between men."
Lia angrily snaps, and decides to pull uncle Rom's stunt, she pulls out her gun and shoots a bottle of beer sitting comfortably beside Marco, her aim was so good no one was hurt. "Don't provoke me." She furiously tells Cesare.
Everyone in the room stares at her in wonder. "Start talking." She demands.
"The plan was to shoot you, but not kill."
"Who gave the order?" I asked, lowering my gun and Cesare sighed in relief which tells me he loves his son.
"Don Romigi."
I look at Lia, and she has the brightest smile I have seen since she got the part in Children of Blood and Oil. It said, 'I finally have that son of a bitch!'