1
Giovanni
Chicago, three years ago…
Dark, ominous clouds slowly roll overhead. A light clap of thunder alerted that the storm wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The rain was heavy as it pelted everything around me. My shoes were soaked. My pants clung to my body like a second skin.
Yet I said nothing as I stood rooted in my spot.
I disregarded the priest as he presided over the grave.
He is nothing. Not important.
I stand under my umbrella and watch the rainfall as the memories of that day flood me. I can’t think of anything else. If I think of anything else, I will lose it.
Everything is different now.
I am in charge. I don’t want to be, but the words my father uttered so many years ago still ring in my head as if he just said them seconds ago. Even though that isn’t the case, those around me know them to be true.
I oversee it all.
My brothers stand silently beside me, saying nothing as they listen to the Priest drone on and on about forgiveness and serenity. What did the priest know? All I could think about was retribution and how soon I could retaliate. And I will retaliate with a vengeance.
I’m not known for my gentle manner or kind personality. Nope, that is my youngest brother, Antonio. The twins, Luciano and Lorenzo, are so absorbed with their social life, all I have to worry about is unplanned pregnancies, then there is Salvatore. Though two years younger than me, his penchant for revenge rival's mine.
Our only sister and most cherished family member, Illyria, silently stands next to our mother as she weeps silently into her handkerchief. The whole family is present. Every lastone of us, cousins, and all.
The men, my men, men I’ve trusted my whole life and with the lives of my Family, stand around us, protecting us, armed, ready for anything.
I know it’s coming.
I just don’t know when.
But it is coming.
The last few days have flown by in a blur, but it all started when my father, mother, and Uncle decided to head to Martha’s Vineyard for a vacation. I’d never seen my mother so excited about a trip. It was going to be a months’ vacation away from the family business, committees, and brunches. That and she would have my father, her husband, all to herself. When she learned my Uncle Franco would be attending, she let it go, knowing that the only way she would have time alone with her husband was to take Franco.
Franco went everywhere my father went.
Everywhere.
However, they never made it out of the compound.
I can still hear my father’s laughter as he shouted for my mother to hurry. After forty-two years of marriage, they were still in love.
Then everything changed.
Before my mother could reach the SUV, it exploded.
Death and destruction rained down everywhere as I ran from the main house. All I saw was a mangled vehicle with flames licking the sky high above. Men came running from all around me, rushing to save those who were already dead. I stood rooted as men pulled my Uncle’s body away from the wreckage. My mother’s screams still haunt my dreams. My father, by some miracle, was still breathing but not for long.
I ran to his side, knowing that I needed to be there for him. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have to say anything. No words would be right. Yet, I sat there on the ground, holding my father to me.
I haven’t cried.
Not once.
Show no fear.