Marco twisted and turned on the spacious mattress, throwing away pillows, before pulling another to his chest, shuffling beneath the covers in an effort to get some sleep. His eyes closing and opening without his consent before he groaned to wake up for the third time. Feeling like he hadn’t slept at all despite having gone to bed early.
He knew he didn’t have to be up until eight, but gave up trying to fall asleep at five.
Cursing into the ceiling, he kicked off the duvet and trudged to his washroom.
Serafina has been in an accident. The words echoed in his skull as the chill outside felt like nothing compared to the ice traveling down his spine. His breath stuck in his throat as he lowered the phone from his ear, his eyes unable to focus on what was in front of him while his mind raced with all the thoughts. His thoughts about the extent of her injury, about his parents, and Salvatore, about Alessio and her kids, about Jayson, and the vendetta.His heart thundered hard against his chest and his knees trembled at the words. Grasping the cold railing in front of him in an effort to try and remain standing, trying to clear his head so that he knows what he should do next.He didn’t receive any orders, he had to take matters into his own hand.The sound of the balcony doors sliding open behind him had him straight
As Marco had promised, he had come a week after having moved to the estate.Entering their shared apartment, he had let out a surprised sound to be tackled in a hug by Sofia, who held onto him for dear life and buried her face into the crook of his neck. Not her proudest moment, she had to admit, but it was exactly what Marco had needed when he held her just as tightly.They had sat on the sofa and Marco had explained the situation as best as he could without endangering her life. But all that had been over a year ago.Sofia hadn’t seen him over the last year, and the only assurance she had of his wellbeing was their short text messages. Her question of “Alive?” being responded by his “living”.It made her embarrassed to know that she missed him over the course
Practiced, gloved hands slid the clip into the chamber, gaze on the men in front of him as he loaded the weapon and tucked it into his waist band, grabbing a dagger from the table in front of him as his hazel eyes roamed over the features of the grim-faced men in front of him.“The plan is simple,” Marco spoke to them, his voice ringing in the silent room. “Piero will take Salvatore to Jayson, allowing the American to believe he was won. But he hasn’t. We still have a card up our sleeves,”“Our first task is to get in position and take out all the sentries the Leone Mafia has stationed around the warehouse. And then we will wait for the signal,”“What would the signal be?” One of the men asked.“Piero shooting one of the guards,” Tazio informed beside the heir, dressed in a two-piece black suit, his ex
“Your kids are hilarious,” Marco spoke to the comatose body of his sister, leaning back in his seat with his hands stuffed into his jean’s pockets. “They don’t talk too well yet, but they’re hilarious babies. You can see they get their weirdness from you,” He chuckled breathlessly, his eyes stinging to see the unresponsiveness of her figure and swallowed the lump forming in his throat.“You know, Reena,” He cleared his throat and sat straight while rubbing a hand over his face. “I met this girl, a girl I really like after the whole Haruhi-fiasco,” His voice diminished to a whisper as he drew circles on the sheets, bushing down at the tiles.“Her name is S-” His words froze as he looked up and caught sight of his parents standing tense before the doctor, his father’s teeth gritted and fists clenched to his side.
Marco’s eyes snapped open in the darkness, his chest heavy as his senses were muddled, unable to comprehend where he was. The hospital is never this dark, he thought to himself as he rolled onto his back, registering the soft sheets beneath his back. Blinking away dizziness, he struggled to breathe before his gaze was redirected to the movement beside him. Holding his breath to think that he had indulged in old habits.Turning to look at the other person, he heaved a breath to notice it being Sofia, all the memories resurfacing. And along with that, came the burning of his chest.With trembling fingers, he played with the beads on his wrist, trying to give himself the strength to keep it together.Picking up his phone from the side table, he told himself it was time to get back to the hospital. Pushing the sheets off him, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the hem of the curtain
“I’ve lost all hope, Sofia,” Marco murmured dejectedly, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he drooped over the counter. Sofia’s throat tightening to see his stare on the glass of bourbon and ice. “It’s a failed battle,”Hearing him of all people say that forced an acidic taste to infiltrate her mouth, her fingers tightening around the glass before she put it down beside her. Steeling herself to grab his face and maybe slap some sense into him. But before she could even indulge in such insolence, he continued speaking.“It’s funny,” He chuckled humorlessly. “Salvatore helped me through hell, through Haruhi’s deception, and every shit storm that hit me when I tried to build myself from the ground up. Without fail. And I promised him, I promised to help him through his troubles, and I can’t even
Marco sat motionless in one of the waiting chairs, his arms crossed over his chest and his trembling fingers bunched into fists as he reminded himself to inhale and then exhale. Knowing that with the current predicament heavy in the air, he had the tendency to forget breathing.He couldn’t believe his own eyes, staring back at the red inflamed word: Operation.Just three days ago – maybe more, maybe less – he had broken down and poured out to Sofia how everything was affecting him, how he had lost hope and believed that he would lose his brother. Now today, he sat outside the operation theater, with Salvatore inside on the slab and a team of the best physicians transplanting a heart into his chest.At the realization of is brother getting a heart, he forced down the laugh that bubbled inside him and instead focused his attention on those around him.
It had been a little over a week since Marco had come back to the apartment.Up until Salvatore got discharged he was in the estate, but Sofia couldn't wait for him to be back in the apartment. Finding his constant visits and the discovery of his belongings rather endearing; he even asked her to come and help him pack up from his room in the estate. Sofia would never admit it, but she couldn't stop the relief from flooding her to know that he was back in the same vicinity as her, and now she could actually keep an eye on his recovery process.It came as no surprise to her that the Regnante family would be attending psychiatric therapy, the two years had been hell on all of them and left them traumatized for various reasons.But they wouldn't be starting until February, all of them needing some time on their own to recover.Even now, Sofia lay with her head prop
Aleksander cracked his knuckles while his eyes wracked over the three suits laud out before him. His eyes taking in every seam of each one, pairing each with possible shirts and ties. Making nine possible combinations for wear then groaning at the fact that he wouldn’t decide which was best suited.Should he go for a traditional white button down or opt for a different color? Tie? No tie? Two piece? Or maybe three piece? Monochrome or should he mix and match?Grunting at his own indecisiveness he grabbed all three of them and tried on every possible combination, deciding that seeing them would allow him to choose better.When he stepped out dressed in the fourth combination, his wife turned around in the middle of getting dressed and giggled at her husband, shaking her head at his antics.“We’re invited for coffee, babe, I doubt a suit is the decoru
The snow scrunched under foot, the white blanket a glaring contrast to the black of the shoes worn by the person. A person made their way across the path with a fur ushanka covering their head and their body hidden by the thick fur coat that was draped over their shoulder, fluttering behind him.Their destination was an obvious one: the bench a top the hill.Making his way up the path, they halted to find a feeble old man huddled in the corner of the bench, their coat weighing heavy on his weak shoulders as tremors passed through his already thin figure. A walking cane grasped between his legs.“Thought I’d find you here,” Aleksander spoke with his hands in his coats pockets, and settled on the other side of the bench. “Papa,”Nikolai’s skin was ashen with his thick mop of hair reduced
Rebuilding the Russian Mafia from square one allowed Aleksander to occupy himself. Create elaborate plans and take care of negotiations, and unofficially become the Pakhan, given how Nikolai was in no state to be taking care of matters. His mind numbed with medication and painkillers and his body deteriorating. The stroke he had from Salvatore’s carnage had left him completely bedridden, and Aleksander could not bring himself to feel sympathy for the man. Instead, the heir set out on making Nikolai’s Bratva completely his.
Aleksander stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. He knew every last-minute crack by heart. He made minute cracks on its clean surface. He even made maps out of the ceiling, gone exploring their terrains and mountains and rivers, having staggered across a wild lion here and a boar there. He even found faces in it, faces, and animals, and mathematical equations. He had exhausted every possibility of keeping his mind occupied without the need to move from his current position.Winter had hit harder in Russia. One of the worst times to be outside – or so he was told – not that he had any plans of venturing into that blizzard. He couldn’t bring himself to move. Couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than that nauseating guilt for having killed his nephew and niece.The thought of them sending a sharp pain shooting through his side where Salvator
The room was stifled by the tension in the air, the men seated on both sides of the table with the head of the table occupied by the Regnante Mafia Boss. The Don sat with his elbows on the mahogany table, his finger stapled before him and his gaze fixated on the wall opposite, completely deaf to the ruckus surrounding him. All of his allies had gathered together and organized this meeting in an effort to understand what to do next. The Romanov’s confirmation for war followed by the retraction of the statement gave them no sense of ease, made them all on edge instead; they had no idea if it were a ploy to get them to lower their guard, or if it was all just some sort of mistake. Then there was the fact that the underworld was now aware of the existence of Salvatore Regnante’s children, both of them hav
The usually opened rich cream curtains were drawn shut, bathing the room in a blinding darkness and a chill with all other sources of light turned off. In the midst of the darkness sat the Regnante Mafia Boss, his suit jacket and waistcoat discarded, his tie hanging loosely from his neck and the first two buttons popped open.A decanter stood on the table before him with a glass housing its contents grasped loosely in his hands, the man reclined in his large office chair and pinching the bridge of his nose.Salvatore opened his eyes to hear the office door creak open, watching a silhouette step inside and fumble against the wall before the lights overhead turned on. The sudden sharpness had him hiss and clamp his eyes shut.“There you are,” His wife exclaimed in exasperation. “I’ve been searching all over for you,”“Nicole…&
Aleksander could not bring himself to notice anything around him. Kneeling on the floor of the Pakhan’s office, sweat beading his forehead, face ashen, and nausea rolling in his stomach to be surrounded by various photos depicting his wife over the course of the past few months.Letting out a shaky breath, his chest ached to see the images in front of him. Sofia sitting at a café, her head thrown back and laughing with Nicole. Her stepping out of the Maserati, dressed in a black pencil skirt dress under a grey blazer. Then another of her sitting at a bench, hugging herself with her hair hanging out of its up do, tears streaming down her face and staring at the ground.It broke his heart to see his wife so torn up, hunched into herself and sobbing. He didn’t know what she was crying. He wanted to know why. What had happened to leave her so vulnerable and distraught? His mind conjured the worst of w
Cars whizzed by on the roads, pedestrians going about their day with high rise infrastructures leering down at their rushing figures. There was one such infrastructure, one of the tallest in the area, whose top floor encased in glass. The sunlight pouring in through the glass illuminated a large and spacious office where two men stood on either side of a mahogany table, peering over a blueprint laid out between them, discussing and making notes about the plans.One of them stood with his back to the window, sunlight streaming in and casting his figure in a shadow with another standing across from him, scribbling onto a notebook in his hand.Both of them had been so engrossed in their discussion that they gave a jump when the office doors suddenly burst open, a third man staggering inside. Both men reached for their guns on instinct but relaxed to recognize Tazio’s figure hunched in the doorway, breathless and
Aleksander swiped his hand at the fogged up mirror, staring back at his reflection as he pushed back his wet tresses and scratched at his jaw, realizing he needed to shave at the prickly feel against his palm. A knock sounding on the door outside had him look over his shoulder before stepping out of the washroom, pulling open the door to find Fio in front of him. The guard turned and pulled out a khaki envelope from the fold of his coat, handing it to the man before him once the door closed behind him. Taking it, Aleksander pulled open the flap, pulling out the pages and skimming through the contents while Fio busied himself in dressing the wound on the heir’s shoulder. Quickly getting dressed, Aleksander stepped o