A N D R E A
"Ricky," I whispered in my brother's ear as I sat on top of his sleeping figure, and when he didn't respond I poked his cheek, "Rick, wake up!"
He swatted my hand away, mumbled something intelligible, and rolled over, making me fall on the mattress beside him with a soft thud. Blowing my hair away from my face, I tucked the unruly locks behind my ear and climbed his back with reinvigorated conviction. Unable to reach his face as he was lying on his back, I figured using his back like a trampoline was my best shot at waking him up.
I didn't understand his need to sleep so much, ever since he turned eighteen three months ago, he'd been preoccupied all the time, besides it was six already, and he'd promised he'd teach me how to fight like him.
"RICCARDO!" I whined, pulling at his comforter, satisfied when he stirred, groaning,
"Ann," He groaned as I got off him and placed my palm on his cheek, his stubble tickled my palm, and I jerked my hand away giggling. Rick rolled over, and sat up, his back against the headboard as I crossed my legs underneath me on his bed. "I was hoping to sleep a little more, bambina," He smiled lazily and ran his palm over his face.
"No sleeping in today," I pointed my finger at him in warning,
"Uh-huh," He nodded his head sleepily, and I leaned forward, tugging his arm.
"Not like this, get up!"
"Shit," He mumbled under his breath.
"That's a bad word, Rick!"
"I know, I'm sorry, Ann you won't tell mama will you?" Riccardo wiggled his brows and I burst out laughing,
"Only if you get up,"
"I am, ma'am" He ruffled my hair, and got up, "Wait here, I'll be just a minute," He said over his shoulder as he went inside the bathroom.
Bored, I fell back on the soft sheets, bouncing a little when my head hit the pillows. I sat up straight when I heard the door open and stood on the bed, jumping with excitement.
"Now, Cosa devo fare con te?"
What do I do with you?
Riccardo rubbed his jaw, his eyes narrowed as he grinned at me, I stopped cavorting and looked at him, folding my arms on my chest. He was still taller than me, but now I reached his chest, Rick threw his head back laughing at my fruitless attempt to intimidate him and reached out to hold me. I giggled, taking a step back, shaking my tiny hands in front of me.
"Will you be like this, Andrea?" He brought his hand to his heart, feigning being hurt; I knew he was messing with me, he always did that, however, I didn't like the frown on his face. He looked pretty when he wasn't doing that.
I scrunched up my nose, "You don't look pretty when you do that," I pointed at his face.
"Bambina, call me anything but pretty, si?" He looked at me with concern, almost like the word had burnt him.
"Okay, pretty," I stuck out my tongue at him, and romped to the farthest corner of his bed, tittering. Riccardo shook his head, and dived after me, he wrapped his fingers around my leg, and hauled me back, chuckling when I fell right beside him on my face.
"Ow Rick!" I'd barely rolled over, and was rubbing the tip of my nose when somehow he managed to roll me in his comforter.
"Will you call me that again?"
"Will do," I poked my tongue out again, my cheeks already hurting with laughter.
"Come on, Ann, anything but that,"
"No," I huffed, facing away from him.
"Fine, I give up," Riccardo smiled, helping me untangle my limbs from the sheets.
"Now I believe I promised you a lesson," Riccardo got up, then offered me his hand, I took it, and he pulled me down the bed carefully, moving my shoes towards me with his feet. "You're going to have to faster than that, little girl,"
"I'm not little, Ricky."
"Okay, big girl, come on now," He chuckled, and started walking as I followed him out of the room towards the gym I wasn't allowed in by myself.
* * *
Waking up feeling nostalgic was a rarity I'd learned to appreciate over the years, especially since Rick had been limited to echoes of memories inside my mind. I cherished it whenever he visited me in my dreams, thinking of it as a sign that he was still with me. I never wanted to forget his beautiful face, but for years I'd struggled to forget the night his features were no longer pretty, rather distorted in pain. I just wanted to commemorate him as my playful brother who'd been taken from me so soon.
Now when I thought of him, what saddened me more than losing him was that he had so much life ahead of him, yet he never got to live it. He wasn't truly dead though, he was alive in my memories and he would be for as long as I'd live. I reached for the drawer on my nightstand and pulled it open. Rick's necklace sat there, still the same as the day he gave it to me, except it didn't have the blood that'd been dripping off it that night. I wrapped my fingers around the anchor delicately and brushed my lips against it before I placed it back in the drawer and pushed it closed. Sighing, I got off the bed for breakfast, already dreading the conversation I was going to have with my father. Once upon a time, I used to love mornings, especially since all of us would eat together, however, over the years my father had poisoned my leisure time with his pernicious ambitions.
As the void in my stomach grew, so did my unease with the whole situation, and this time not even the warm water from the shower could untangle the knots in my body. After a quick shower, I towel dried my hair, dressed in my jeans and a tank-top, and made my way downstairs. I knew papa wouldn't like these clothes, and this little rebellion made me more gleeful than it was supposed to.
I walked through the empty corridors, suddenly remembering all the times I'd ran through them with either one of my parents or Rick chasing me. It felt like when he died, the hearts of all the residents of this mansion did too, leaving just emptiness behind. Now all that was left was a posh exterior that'd long since been shattered to pieces.
Papa was sitting at the head of the table, holding a cup of tea against his mouth as he took a brief sip and placed it down, the wristwatch I'd watched mama clasp around his wrist years ago glinting under the fine lights of the room. He grimaced as his gaze slid over my frame, from my flats to my clothes and damp hair, and somehow that little moment of reproach made me feel guilty when a minute ago I'd been pleased with my defiance.
"I'm glad you decided to join me, Andrea"
"Are you?" I muttered under my breath and took my seat at his left, feeling his gaze on me.
"Why wouldn't I be?" I scoffed, clearly, he'd forgotten he wasn't there when I needed a father, and despite my internal longing for his affection, I couldn't bring myself to let go of my anger especially since he wasn't trying.
I feared even an earthquake wouldn't jerk his dead conscience awake.
I'd wanted to know what had happened at his meeting, however, the answer terrified me. I'd learned not to seek answers I wasn't ready to hear, but when would someone ever be ready to know their life was no longer theirs.
"Is this about the wedding?" I sat straighter, surprised at his soft tone, and looked at his face, "You understand it needs to be done, right"
Fuck me for thinking he cared for a second. I guess the naive girl inside of me was still alive, even after her dreams were shattered countless times.
I ground my teeth, suddenly losing my appetite, but papa didn't notice my exasperation and continued, "I would never trust him with you, my love. He isn't going to live long enough to be your husband." I stared at my so-called father, baffled at his insane confession, "It wouldn't be the first time a wedding between Camorra clans turned bloody." Papa chuckled at his own joke, but I didn't find it funny, if anything I was almost inclined to voice my animadversions.
"Do you think it's wise?" Realizing it might be my only chance, I decided against incivility. "Killing Lorenzo wouldn't accomplish much, the Santini clan is big." I shrugged nonchalantly, wishing that for once he would hear the hidden plea behind my words, and choose not to dangle me as bait.
"They might be big, but only one of Leonardo's sons had it in him to be Capo, if Lorenzo falls, they all fall." He paused, taking another sip from his cup, "Besides, most of them should be dead at the wedding anyway, it doesn't leave many people to carry on the legacy."
I shuddered, finally realizing the extent my father was willing to go for his vile plans. He was so blinded that he didn't even recognize the potential loopholes in his plan.
"This won't end well,"
"I didn't ask if it would." His voice, now cold, cut through my hopeless optimism, "You do remember everything I do is to keep you and your mother safe."
"She was right to leave you," I whispered, shaking my head as I stood up, and left the room, my breakfast unfinished, my tea cold, exactly like the hearts of the people I lived with.
My father was blinded by his pleonexia, and I knew he was too far gone, and now the curse of his actions wouldn't leave anything untouched.
* * *
L O R E N Z O
Showering had been the only time when I didn't have to think, but not today. This time as the water trailed down my body, I couldn't force my thoughts to settle and focus on the loud splashing of water. I kept vacillating between the two choices in front of me, one was logical, even expected of me, I just didn't know why I couldn't bring myself to do wrong by a woman I didn't even know. I'd always known my mind, executed all of my plans to utmost precision, however this time I was incredulous at my reluctance. Agosto Romano might not have been able to hide his malicious motives from me, but he'd managed to surprise me with his approach to getting what he wanted.
Getting Romano killed wouldn't be hard, but his death would warrant uninvited attention on me, and I couldn't have that, not now at least. Besides I doubted Romano could be persuaded to delay the wedding, he certainly seemed like he had an ace up his sleeve. And it wasn't like I had anything to lose, love's volatile, and I could do without it.
Unable to feel relaxed under the warm spray, I finished cleaning myself up, and stepped out, wrapping a towel around my waist. Pushing my wet hair off my face, I decided against shaving and hurried out to get dressed. I wanted to know if Agosto had something I could use against him since yesterday, and I wasn't interested in waiting to acquire that information as I'd hoped knowing his unholy plans would help me reach a conclusion regarding his offer.
After I'd dressed in my charcoal suit, I walked towards my nightstand, picked my phone, and checked my messages. Alessandro's name popped up on the screen, and I opened his message immediately.
Lorenzo, fucking get down to the mansion. You need to hear what Romano's been saying.
I scoffed, berating myself for nearly expecting anything different from that cunt. If he had a death wish, I felt it was my obligation to deliver him at Hades's doorstep. I contemplated drinking my coffee before going to the mansion, but decided against it, and walked out of my house, my heart racing without the added caffeine in my system.
Now that I knew Agosto was only biding his time to backstab me, any feelings of compassion for his daughter evaporated. It was highly unlikely she wasn't aware of her father's plans, and even if she wasn't she deserved to be touched by the same smokeless arcane as her father. Wanting to be quick, I decided against walking to the mansion and unlocked my Lamborghini, barely taking a minute to slide behind the wheel. The car roared as it came to life, and its wheels screeched against the gravel as I pulled in towards the street.
I killed the engine in front of the mansion, and walked out, moving towards the office with long strides. Alessandro and Luca were already in my office when I opened the door, they nodded at me as I sat behind the table on my seat.
"Agosto wants to attack at your wedding." Anger radiated off Alessandro as he spat the word wedding out, and I felt my own anger running in my veins like venom, but I controlled myself.
"It isn't a creative idea, but effective nonetheless," Luca added, his gaze moving between me and Alessandro as his forehead creased with worry.
"Let him try," I felt a smirk forming on my face with the realization that one way or the other, Agosto had signed his death sentence, his failed conspiracies would form the foundations of my plans, and unlike him, I would be shooting him right in the face. "Do you have those recordings? I want to hear every word the motherfucker said."
Alessandro nodded, and plugged a flash drive in his laptop, soon after Agosto's voice could be heard in the room, his disgusting confidence tainting my office as I took note of each and everything he said. The arrogance at his supposed foolproof plan was unmistakable, and it nearly made me laugh. It was pride that made empires fall, shame Agosto had failed to take any lesson from history.
"I don't like the smirk on your face, Renzo," Alessandro warned as I met Luca's eyes across the table, the insanity inside me pushing to be let free.
"You're not the one who needs to worry about it, Alessandro." I dismissed him with a flick of my hands.
"I don't, but that look means you're going to do something crazy."
"If agreeing to the wedding is crazy, then yes that's what I'm doing." I turned to Luca, "Call Agosto, tell him the wedding is in two weeks, and tell Florence I want every little detail about Andrea Romano and Agosto Romano. Tell him I want everything, no matter how insignificant it seems." Luca nodded, typing on his phone, no doubt to text Florence.
"That's knowingly walking into a trap!"
"It's not a trap if I know where the rocket net is, Alessandro." He rubbed his jaw, still unconvinced, but decided against debating with me further.
I unlocked my phone, dialing Alessio's number to ask him to fly to Italy, after all the wedding had to look real for Romano to die.
"Renzo, what the fuck?" Alessio's disbelief bled through his voice as soon as I finished telling him the current situation.
"Calm down, brother." I stood up from my seat, and walked towards the window overlooking the garden, "There will be a fucking wedding, there will be a bloodbath, but the blood won't be ours." I couldn't look at him, but it wasn't hard to imagine the leering on his features.
Agosto would be played like a violin for my humorous nobility, and his narcissism wouldn't even let him see it. I saw no other end fit for a motherfucker like him.
Men often nailed their own coffin, after all, there's no noose worse than the one tightened by your own hand.
* * *
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