Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Massimo

It’s not fucking over yet. Not by a long shot. I see him too. Andreas. But not quickly enough. My brother managed to pull his gun on me first.

“Stand the fuck up,” he demands. Emelia and I stand. I push her behind me. “How noble of you. Always thinking of pussy first.”

“Fuck you. Fuck you, Andreas, and everything you are. You have no justification for what you’ve done. I split the empire four ways so we could all be equal.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want equality. I want it all. I would have had it all if not for you.”

Everything about him shocks me to the core. I wonder how it was I missed these changes in a man I’m supposed to be close to. These changes didn’t happen overnight. They existed long before Grandfather died. They would have had to for him to become like this.

“What happened to you? How did you become like this? Why didn’t you tell me you found out Riccardo was your father?”

“What can I say? I must take after our dearest mother. She kept me a secret in her diary. My origins locked away. I only happened upon it after Grandfather’s death. You don’t know what it’s like to be me, Massimo. So, fuck no to this conversation. Sign over everything, and I’ll let the two of you walk out of here.”

That’s not happening. I won’t do it, and it’s not because I’m a selfish bastard and want it all for myself. It’s because there’s no way I trust him to let us go. Let Emelia go. He wouldn’t do it.

I rub my finger over Emelia’s hand on my waistband. I’m going to have to hurt her to save her.

“What’s it gonna be?” he demands.

Whatever I’m gonna do has to happen now, or it won’t at all. He’s unstable. His ticket to reach his goals just fell into the abyss of hell, exactly where Riccardo belonged, and now I’m all he’s got.

The longer I take to answer, the more agitated he gets. The tick in his jaw is a tell.

On three. I need to move. One. Two. Three.

I shove Emelia out of the way, and he fires the bullet. Thank fuck, I dodge and she scrambles out of the way and covers herself in the crevice of the cave.

I throw myself on him with the rage of a wild animal spawned from the depths of hell. Consumed by the fury over what he’s done. I manage to knock the gun out of his hand and when I push him to the ground. What follows next is a series of punches between the two of us. Two brothers fighting to the death.

I give my all, blow for fucking blow, and as I do, I unravel any love I had for him and replace it with my last images of my father and every sentimental memory that comes to my mind. If not for Andreas, Pa would still be here. Not dead. He would have lived a long life, just like Grandfather.

Andreas’ hands are as dirty as Riccardo’s. Riccardo pulled the trigger, but Andreas might just as well have given him the gun.

I roar as I come down hard on him with my fist until my knuckles are raw and start to bleed.

It’s his strength that gives him some leverage. He’s always been strong, so when he flips me over and I land on my back, I’m not surprised. But I’m strong too. My father taught me to be strong. My mother taught me to be stronger.

That’s why I’m ready for him when he manages to retrieve his gun. He’s gearing up to end me, but that window his movement gives me is an opening to attack. I grab him and flip him back onto the ground. Grab and twist his hand holding the gun, so when he fires the bullet to kill me, he shoots himself instead of me.

The impact is so intense it shakes me. He doesn’t make a sound. It’s not what I expected. It’s as if the pain is too great for him to scream or shout. His eyes go wide, and a whimper leave his lips.

He’s a traitor to our family. A traitor to me. Yet as I stare at him, I see my brother. I see my big brother. The guy who always looked out for me and had my back.

Andreas D’Agostino.

The light leaves his eyes, and he’s goes too.

Dead.

In this one day, I’ve watched two people I love die in my arms.

Warm fingers rest on my shoulder, and I look up to see Emelia.

The sound of footsteps approaches. Tristan and Dominic come into view. They stop in their tracks when they take in the scene of me and Andreas on the ground.

As I look at them, all I know is that everything will be different now.

Our lives will have changed forever.

In just this one day.

The next month flew by within a flicker of an eye and was the hardest I’ve lived in a long time. Three funerals. Pa, Andreas, and Priscilla.

Andreas was the hardest because I felt I shouldn’t be there. We decided between us that we wouldn’t make people aware of his treachery. We kept it between us. Those who knew, knew.

We held a private ceremony for him with just the three of us. Me, Tristan, and Dominic.

Pa had close to a state funeral. People from far and wide came to honor him.

Pa’s funeral was hard in another way. A way I can’t describe to anyone. As his body was placed in the earth, I realized how much he meant to me. I looked up to him as a boy and as a man. He was my everything.

Pricilla’s was another tough one because of the place she’ll always have in my heart. She was a woman who was there for me when I needed a mother.

Hers was the last, closing off last week.

This week is the first clear week I’ve had. The first time I’ve had to stop and think about the things that still don’t add up.

There’s a lot, a lot about what happened weeks ago that makes no sense. The Syndicate is no more. I’m the last boss left. Everything automatically came to me. I have their lawyers meeting with me left, right, and center to sign this and that or making contact to discuss what I want to do next.

I’ve put everything on hold for the moment because there’s one thing I need to do first, and I plan to do it later today when Emelia gets back from the stores.

I’ve been in the sitting room gazing out to the sea. Just thinking.

The door opens, and in walks Candace, the bag on her back she carried weeks ago.

She’s been around for the funerals, but I assumed she’s be heading out again. I don’t know if this is goodbye again or hello.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hi.”

“So, I got this job at a school as a teaching assistant. It’s a few hours a day. I’m kind of back and I thought I would check on you,” she says. “I also thought you might need me here for a little while. I think Priscilla would want me to take care of you. You and Emelia.”

I stand up and walk over to her. She gives me a hug, and as I hold her, she feels like a piece of the past.

“Thank you. I think I do need you.”

“Then I’m here for you.”

“Means a lot.”

“I think my parents would want me to be here too. Maybe there’s reason why the Ricci’s have always taken care of the D’Agostinos. We work well together.”

I smile at that.

“We definitely do.”

“I guess I’ll go unpack, then.” She gives me a nod and leaves.

Emelia will be happy that she’s back. Candace was a good friend to her.

Things have definitely not been the same without her and Priscilla around.

An hour later, Emelia arrives and heads out to see me on the terrace.

I decided to do some paperwork out here and enjoy the weather. I’m still cautious about her going out by herself even with a guard, but I’m gonna have to suck it up and trust that she’ll be safe for the next part of my plan.

She went shopping to get some special paintbrushes. The bag is so small it fits in the pocket of her purse. It probably didn’t warrant a trip into the city. I understand, though, if she wanted to get out of the house.

“Hi,” she bubbles as she reaches me. She plants a kiss on my lips and sits opposite me.

“Hi, Princess. Have fun in town?”

“Yeah. I did. Going to the art shop was nice.” She nods with a smile and reaches out to touch my hand. It’s the most innocent of touches, but it’s a sign she wants me again. The same way I always want her.

We have each other. That’s what came out of all of this. My thirst for vengeance sated by my love for her.

I love her, and she loves me, but I know there’s something more her heart wants, and she won’t be happy until she has it. So, we have a lot to discuss.

“I’m glad you went.”

She looks at the documents before me, and the smile on her face recedes.

“Does this mean you’ll be busy for the rest of the day?” she asks.

“No, but there are a few things we need to talk about. I think it’s time.”

“What do you mean?” Worry fills her pretty face.

I pull out a document she’ll recognize when I unfold it. It’s the contract from our first meeting.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

She studies me when she sees it. “The contract.”

“Yeah, the contract.” I hold it up. She gasps when I tear it down the middle.

“What? What are you doing?”

“That’s not how I want you. So, I’m giving you your freedom back, and all that you own. Your family’s inheritance, the business and assets now belong to you. It’s yours,” I say then hand her an envelope. One more envelope. This one holds good news. “That is a gift from me.”

She takes it and opens it. When she pulls the document out and reads through it, her whisky eyes fill with tears of the deepest gratitude.

“Massimo, this is an acceptance to the Accademia. You’re sending me to Florence?”

“Isn’t that where you were supposed to be? Emelia, you are an incredibly talented artist. I know you missed out on summer school and the first few weeks of the semester, but they’re cool with it. I got you covered for however long you want to be there and wherever you want to stay when you go to Florence. You just do what you want. Whatever that is…” I hold her gaze. As happy as she is, she knows by me saying so where my conversation is heading to. She knows what that means for us.

She presses down on her lips, and her cheeks flush.

“I’ve never been able to do what I want before.”

“Now you can. That means deciding whether or not you want to stay married to me.” I pull in a breath. “I’m a mafia boss, and now I’m the syndicate. I still don’t know what that means yet. All I know right now is that when it comes to you and me, I’d start over again if I could. Take it back to nine months ago when I first saw you at the charity ball.”

“Would you?” she asks, and I nod. “What would you do?”

“I would ask you out, then date, and I’d ask you to marry me. I would write better vows for you.” I focus on her and gaze deep into her eyes so she can see I’m serious. Everything I say next I mean from the bottom of my heart, but she needs to feel it.

“I’d say something like this.” I pause. “‘I, Massimo D’Agostino, take you, Emelia Balesteri, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times, in sickness and in health. I promise to protect you until the day I die. I will love and honor you all the days of my life and for all eternity because not even death can keep me away from you.’ That is what I would say to you. Because I love you. I would do everything properly because you deserve that.”

I truly mean that for her, whether or not she chooses me. We started things backwards.

I can declare her mine all I want, and to me she will always be.

But I want her to choose me.