A lot had happened in the three years since I took over the family business. The battle I knew was coming came swiftly. At least they waited a week to let us mourn properly.
When the blood bath began, it came unexpectedly. Two of my men were gunned down in their apartment by a woman no less. A woman who worked for the Manetti Family. An unscrupulous, vile, maniacal family run by a man named Vincenzo Manetti. The Manetti Family mainly dealt in racketeering, gunrunning, and cocaine distribution. Like I said, small-time. Though small, they had big aspirations, and when they focused on my Family as their next mark, that was their first mistake.
Their second was allowing me to find them.
The woman who killed my boys was now fertilizer in the Chicago Botanical Gardens. Last I heard, their roses were spectacular, though I’ve never seen them. As for the Manetti Crew, well, they’ve all been dispatched and returned home to their respective families. However, I do hope their families didn’t open the boxes. As for Vincenzo Manetti, well, last I heard, he fled Chicago and is currently living out the rest of his life in Italy, under the protection of the Capribella Family. One of the oldest families still around in the old country and my sworn enemies.
Our two families go way back.
Long before any Valentinetti ever stepped foot in America.
According to family lore, a Valentinetti and a Capribella fell in love. The young couple wanted to marry. With the blessing of both families, the couple did marry. However, on their wedding day, the bride and groom were murdered for all to see. Some say it was a member of the Valentinetti family, while others say it was the Capribella’s. The fact is, no one knows precisely because the incident in question happened over one-hundred and fifty years ago. But the animosity and feud between the two families have traversed time and space. The Capribella’s stay in Italy, while the Valentinetti Family opted for a fresh start in the United States, keeping an ocean between us.
It’s funny to think about now. Considering what happened is remarkably familiar to Romeo and Juliet. The Capulets and Montagues. Shakespeare’s tragic play about young love.
Even back then, Shakespeare knew the truth.
Never bring two feuding families together.
The outcome was always disastrous.
“Gio. He’s not talking.”
Sighing, I looked up from my phone. “Let Marko have a go.”
“He went to the deli.”
“Then send someone to go get him, Paolo.”
Looking back at my phone, I continued to scan through the many emails I received daily. All of them were about the families’ different holdings, investments, businesses, etc.
Everything the Family had a hand in went through me.
I was the boss.
It was tedious, and I trusted no one to oversee any of it. If someone was to blame for anything, I wanted to know about it first. Oh, I still had an accountant, an office manager, and all the typical personnel that went with running a multi-billion-dollar corporation, but nothing ever got done without my okay. Ever.
If they want to buy something. They come to me for permission.
If they need a loan. They ask me.
If they want to expand. They come to me.
The Family takes care of everything.
I take care of everyone.
Even those who wanted nothing to do with the Family, like my cousins Reginald and Dwayne Buchannon. The only sons to my Aunt Daniella, my father’s only sister.
My Aunt married an Irishman by the name of Colin Buchannon. A terrible match, but Daniella was Family, and she wanted the Irishman. So, they married and had two of the most ungrateful hellions ever conceived. There was no corralling Reggie or Dwayne. Where one was, the other wasn’t far behind. The amount of trouble those two could find themselves in was insurmountable. I should know because Sal and I were with them most of the time. How we survived puberty still eluded me, but something happened right before Reggie turned twenty-one. Something to make him turn his back on the Family and never look back. When Reggie left, he took Dwayne with him, and the Family has seen neither since.
Well, maybe that had something to do with the fact I told them both if they ever stepped foot in Chicago again, I would kill them.
I’m Italian.
Hot blood runs in the Family.
But nothing like Reggie and Dwayne. Their Irish/Italian mix was highly volatile, and though Reggie was the tamer of the two, nothing could stop Dwayne when he got going.