RafaelBeing a lawyer taught me how to mask my true feelings. I can stand up in front of a judge and jury and lie with a deadpan face. I have no tells, nothing that gives me away, nothing to alert my enemies that I’m on the way.The only time I give myself away is when I’m with her. I already showed her my most vulnerable side. All those years ago.When I did it, I thought I’d never see her again. In my mind, there was no way a nun and a would-be crime boss would ever cross paths again.But in no time at all, she burrowed her way under the surface, getting stuck in my heart like a little thorn under my skin. Bothersome at first, but I had grown used to her presence in my life.When I left her, when I told her she’d never see me again, I meant it. That was the plan. But like that little thorn that sticks under your skin, she stuck in my mind.She was my secret for many years. The light I could turn to when I needed a break from my dark reality.Then she grew too big. The longing to see
RafaelWe leave through the strip club’s back entrance, and from there go to the casino. The few straight cops, Harris mostly, always have me under surveillance, but they can’t watch every entrance and exit.The strip club’s exit is well-hidden and most people don’t know about it. Even the dancers and staff enter through a different door. It’s the only way I can shake the constant tail on my ass.By the time we get to the casino it is starting to fill up, which suits me just fine. The noise from above will drown out the man in my basement’s screams.Paulie and Frankie already worked him over, and all they could get out of him was a few grunts. All we know about the man is that he works for Sforza.Frankie overheard him bragging in one of Sforza’s joints about the job he pulled, and how he was next in line to become capo because he wasn't, 'afraid to do the dirty work.'He’s a hopped up wiseguy who thinks too much of himself, and he thought that telling the rest of the crew how he kille
RafaelI meet Sforza in one of the private booths at the back of English’s restaurant - Gusto. Robert opened Gusto five years before Carmello died, by then, the two of them were thick as thieves and came as a package. Robert and Carmello, always together. They were like David and Jonathan. I don’t know how they met or what happened between them, and Robert won’t speak about it, but he was a good friend to my brother and mourned his death.At forty, Robert doesn’t look a day over twenty-five, with a thick head of hair, sharp blue eyes, and a tall, slim figure. He never married.There were whispers, back in the day, that my brother and Robert were lovers. The rumours are true, but I never confirm nor deny them. At least Carmello never took a pretend girlfriend so he could appear straight. So many of the other gay wiseguys tend to do, bringing diseases and heartbreak home to their wives and children.Homosexuality is still a big taboo in our world, but it never bothered me one way or th
RafaelThe towel I clutch to midsection is soaked through with blood. A fraction of an inch deeper, and the boy would have eviscerated me. I don’t know if I were lucky, or if the kid was just that incompetent.I lean back in the seat, trying my best not to make a sound as Enzo drives me home. English will erase the CCTV footage of his front door, Rossi and Sforza are taking care of the kid’s body.We hate each other, but we both are bound by the code, and he takes it as seriously as I do.“Get back to the city,” I order Enzo as he pulls up to the front door. I grit my teeth and get out of the car, but lean inside to finish my order. “Make sure everything is taken care of, and find out what the cops know.”“Yes, Boss,” Enzo agrees.I slam the door shut and watch as Enzo drives away, the brake lights leaving a red trail behind. I know he was behind it. Him and Sforza. They don’t want to kill me outright - that would draw attention to them and trigger a war they can’t win. What they wan
MadeleineI make it back upstairs just in time to strip off my bloody nightdress, shower, and climb into bed. My breath is still racing when Ethel shows up to check on me.She clicks her tongue disapprovingly while she takes my vitals. “I am worried about you,” she declares. “Why?” I ask innocently.It's not as if I can tell her why I didn’t sleep last night. I heard when Rafael returned, the slamming of the car door, and looked out of my window. Something about the way he moved, as if he was hurt...I still don't know why it bothered me, why I felt compelled to go downstairs to check on him. I just knew he needed help, and I couldn't ignore the voice in my heart urging me to go to him.Good thing I did. I’m sure he would have bled out in that bathroom if I ignored my instincts.“Your vitals are concerning,” Ethel declares. “Your blood pressure is too low, and your pulse is too fast. Your colour is off. You look sicker today than yesterday.”“I didn’t sleep well.”The nurse nods and
RafaelI stand outside Madeleine’s room, leaning with my back against the wall, breathing so hard that it hurts.It was a mistake. Kissing her was a mistake. It’s too soon. She doesn’t know me yet. In her mind, I’m still Dom - the sensitive romantic who cried in her church. Every naive little nun’s fantasy.I almost turn around and go back inside. I have to know what she’s thinking. I have to know if Dom is still all she sees when she looks at me.But I don’t do it. I don’t want to know. Not yet. I want to bask in the warmth of her glow a moment longer.**With a grunt and a grimace, I slide behind my desk and swallow two painkillers before I get a burner phone from the drawer. The sooner I set this meeting up with Luca Amato, the better. This Sforza matter needs to be dealt with.Apart from the bedroom where I bled last night, there’s no trace of what happened when I came home. I’m not worried about the other evidence - Missus Wilson is used to cleaning blood out of our clothing, and
MadeleineThe rest of the day passes easier. Faster. After school, Betsy kept me busy with her homework, and then brought all her new dolls to my room so we could play on my bed.It’s a good thing. She distracts me from what happened earlier. Keeps my mind off the kiss that still burns my lips. If I turn my head just right, I can smell Rafael on my pillow. And when I do, I'm instantly taken back to that moment when he stared into my eyes. It was as if he couldn’t quite believe that I was real… and then the kiss - like he was trying to reassure himself that I was truly here.He stole my breath from my lungs, and for just a little while he stilled my mind. It was peaceful inside that kiss. I wanted to stay there with him, wrapped in our protective little bubble where the outside world no longer existed.“Okay, that’s enough for one day,” Ethel says with a laugh.She’s been watching us for a good twenty minutes - not because she cares, I think, but because she wanted to observe me.“It
MadeleineI flush the yellow pill down the toilet and go back to bed. I allow myself to fall asleep, knowing that Ethel will wake me at ten to check my vitals and give me the last round of the day’s medication - a series of very painful injections that I dread.I thought I'd get used to the shots, but no luck so far.Ethel tries her best to be gentle, and keeps telling me that it’s the medicine inside that hurts, not the needles, but I swear sometimes it feels as if she’s pegging that needle into my ass like it's a dart.When Ethel’s done, she goes back to her room. I lie and wait for the rattle of the pipes, indicating that she’s taking a shower, and half an hour later the faint laughter of the audience on her television set floats through the wall. She falls asleep to sitcoms every night. I know when she wakes up, because she switches off the television when she does.Marco falls asleep right around the same time every night, and once he does, nothing can wake him. I don’t blame him
RafaelThe pops of the nine mil are followed by the unmistakable ra-ta-ta of rifle fire.My stomach clenches.For a moment, I’m frozen in fear.Then it lets go, and I start to move without consciously thinking about it.I yank my nightstand open and take out two pistols, shoving fully loaded clips into the elastic of my pajama bottoms as I go over to the wardrobe to grab a t-shirt and a holster containing two more guns.I yank the t-shirt over my head, and slip my arms through the holster, then leave my room.Time feels like it’s standing still and speeding up at the same time. It took me no more than three minutes to get everything I need, and in all that time, the gunfire never ceased.I walk straight into Madeleine who is standing outside my room, hand outstretch as if she was busy reaching for the door handle. She’s pale. Her eyes wide with fear. “What’s going on?” she asks urgently.“I don’t know. Take this.” I hold one of the pistols out to her. She takes the gun without any pro
RafaelEnzo comes sauntering over to our table. We've been drinking and joking around for a while now, and he kept himself seperate from us on purpose. That, in itself, is the height of disrespect - not just for me, but also my captains.The old guys have slipped into ‘nostalgia mode,’ as I call it, and they’re talking about the good old days. When they get tipsy, they get weepy about how things used to be easier and different. I doubt it was any easier than it is now, they just forgot the uncertainty, the fear of not knowing when an enemy would come up to you and pull the trigger.During a war, safety isn't guaranteed. Death is. In our line of work, your life is always on the line no matter what, but when there's a war the risk increases ten-fold.Not that anyone would ever admit that they were scared. Everyone’s a hero in their own minds - and so are all the men who died during that time.Everyone falls quiet when Enzo pulls a chair over and takes a seat at the table. He wasn’t par
RafaelFor the first time since the night of the stabbing, Enzo shows up and actually looks surprised to see me out and about, acting as if nothing had happened.I can feel it though. Every passing minute is nothing short of torture, and it's getting progressively worse. “Look who finally decided ta show up,” Paulie says and shoots a nasty glance Enzo’s way.I haven’t spoken to Salvatore yet. I wanted to wait a few more days until I could formulate my thoughts better Right now, all my decisions are driven by pain and rage - and when you feel like that, it's not a good time to make life or death decisions.“Yeah,” Enzo says and holds the present in his hands out to me. “Sorry I’m late, Boss. I had some business.”I glare at my lieutenant, and completely ignore his apology. “You can put your gift on the table over there,” I say and point to a table that’s piled high with colourfully wrapped presents.Enzo looks taken aback at first, but then he nods and heads over to the table.“That p
MadeleineThe men and women split into two groups. The guys congregate around the grill or the coolerboxes filled with beer. The women gather at their tables, in the kitchen to make salads, butter rolls, or to pour ice tea into pitchers.Rafael has a whole staff in the house, but none of them are here today, and I think it's some kind of traditional thing for the women to hang out in the kitchen. The places is crowded, the women are loud, and all of them are complaining about their husbands or children. I find it strange and endearing at the same time.“You’re quiet,” Angelica says as she dumps a container of mayonnaise over some potatoes.“I’m listening,” I answer her.“Oh honey,” one of the women, I think it’s Clara, snort-laughs at me. “You cain’t afford to be quiet. You’re Rafael's wife.”“Fiancèe,” I correct her.“Potato, poe-tah-toe,” she replies. “It’s the same difference to us. You live together as man and wife, you are man and wife.”I blush at the thinly veiled insinuation,
MadeleineThe woman with the big hair throws herself in Rafael’s embrace. I let him go and stand back, watching on as he awkwardly hugs her with one arm. “Raffie,” she exclaims and stands back, then grabs his face between her hands. “Let me look at you. Are you eating enough? Sleeping. You look sick.”Rafael sighs and rolls his eyes, but he doesn't push her away. "I'm fine," he answers and gently pulls her hands from his face.She looks like the grown up version of the girl in the portrait - only with bigger hair and a lot more make-up. I just assume she’s his sister.Out of nowhere, she punches Rafael in the arm. “You don’t call, you don’t write. I should strangle you.”“I'm sorry Angelica,” Rafael says, almost indulgently, and rubs his arm, shutting her out at the same time. “I've been a little busy." He looks around the lawn at the people milling about. "Where is David this time?”“Oh, who knows?” she answers, completely unbothered.“And the kids?”“With Uncle Frankie. You know how
RafaelMadeleine keeps the nightmares away. Her presence alone is enough. She doesn’t need to hold me, or whisper comforts in my ear. Just knowing that she’s next to me helps.I drift off to sleep and don't wake again until the sun lights up the room, and the sound of chirping birds pierces the through my dreams.For the first time in weeks, I feel rested. Refreshed. Still in pain, but I am almost my old self again. I should be able to make it through the cookout okay. I will not be drinking and laughing along with the rest of them, but I will be able to grin and bear it.Frankie can take the children out on the boat. It’s usually my job, something I always enjoy, but I have a feeling my stomach won’t thank me if I take it out on the choppy lake today.“Morning,” Madeleine chirps and comes walking out of the bathroom with wet hair and only a towel wrapped around herself.My heart jumps into my throat, and my body reacts in a surprisingly violent way. If I could move at my regular sp
RafaelI feel a lot better after the transfusion. Ethel was right, I definitely needed it. And so was Madeleine when she told me I had to get proper medical care.But neither of them will ever hear the truth from my lips.The pain is still ever-present. Betsy's kick to my gut did more damage than I thought was possilbe - a little girl like her shouldn't be able to put a grown man out of commission. Part of it is my own, stupid fucking fault. I shouldn’t have picked her up mid-tantrum. Not in my current state anyway.At some point, as I drift in and out of consciousness, Madeleine gest up and leaves the room with Ethel. It’s just me and my thoughts. I try to conjure the image of Sister Francis. The quiet, pretty, understanding girl with her gentle eyes, but she’s gone. Everytime I try to recall her, I see a blank face surrounded by the grey habit of their order.Or Sister Francis melts away, and is replaced by Madeleine.I feel as if I went through a wormhole to an alternate reality
RafaelI am pain. It’s become one with my being. It’s a part of me. At least for now.Walking down the hallway, leaning heavily on Madeleine, is like trekking through an obstacle course filled with broken glass and razor blades tearing at my flesh.God. Even my feet hurt.I didn’t know a person could be in this much pain, bleed as much as I have, and still live to tell the tale.With a sigh and a grunt, I fall on Madeleine’s bed, and just lie there with my feet dangling on the floor. Ethel is close behind, fussing over me like she’s my mother as she lifts my legs up and pulls the comforter over me.She always did like me. Even when we were children. She’d follow me around like a mama hen, making sure I didn’t fall in the water or run off to the guard house. Whenever she was around, she made it her personal mission to keep me away from the wiseguys.She was pissed when I came back. After my father’s funeral, while everyone sat around in the parlour remembering the old man, she pulled
MadeleineBetsy destroyed her room. I knew she would. Thank goodness Rafael removed everything of value from the room - including that expensive looking ballerina figurine.The pretty room, fit for a little princess as she wanted it to be, is now a dump. She destroyed the dollhouse. Her dolls have no heads or legs. The potted plant with the little pink flowers has been overturned and the dirt scattered.She shredded her bedding and tore her pillows open, scattering stuffing all over the room. The pink curtains are in tatters. On the floor, next to the room, is the pair of scissors she used to do it.I’ve never seen this level of destruction from her.Rafael is going to lose his damn mind.I’m going to lose my mind.The anger that washes over me is something I’ve never experienced before. For the first time since I’ve had to take her into my care, I want to put her over my knee and spank her.Betsy is sitting in the middle of the room, covered in dirt, stuffing stuck in her hair like l