I stretched out on the luxurious duvet cover, my exhausted mind swirling my thoughts together like an eggbeater. I’d been sure I’d be far too wound up to even come close to drifting off, but when I shut my gritty eyes to give them a moment or two of rest, that’s exactly what I did.
10
Luca
My brothers and I sat at the massive oak table in the dining room, all of us reacting to the weight of our father’s murder differently. Greta had patched up the wound on Marco’s leg, using her nursing skills like she had numerous times before, her job made easier by the fact that the bullet went all the way through.
My brother wore a venomous expression on his face, sweating from the pain, his
fists clenching and unclenching on the surface of the table. Alessandro had a knot on the side of his skull the size of grapefruit, but physically at least, he was no worse for wear. Gabriel seethed with his wrath, his fury an invisible specter hovering overhead. It combined with ours to fill the room.
For a moment, none of us spoke. We were all on edge, all strung as tightly as bows. Greta had called our usual team to respectfully take care of my father, preparing his body for burial. It felt bizarre to glance at the head of the table and not see him sitting there. To me, the day had a nebulous quality to it, like everything that had transpired was the result of a psychedelic dream.
Tired to the bone, I straightened in my chair, settling the mantle of leadership on my shoulders. I’d always known this would happen someday. I’d been groomed to become the patriarch of the Varasso family since birth. As a child, I’d enjoyed pretending that I was my father, telling people what to do and being shown deference.
But facing the reality of it now felt incredibly daunting. Angelo Varasso had always seemed to exist as this larger than life figure, the ruler of his empire. Untouchable, iron-willed, and undefeatable. Deep down part of me had believed that he was more than human, that he was somehow above the triviality of the rest of us mere mortals.
That he would never actually succumb to the frailty of death.
The bald fact of the matter was despite all the training and attention I’d received, I didn’t feel ready. I wouldn’t turn thirty for three more months. I thought I’d have a few more decades before I’d have to step fully into his role. I’d never expected to have to take over so young.
Ironic when I thought about how ancient I felt at the moment.
For a second, I allowed myself the luxury of imagining I’d been born into an alternate reality. A different family. One not affiliated with the mafia or criminal activity of any kind.
One where I could have chosen my lot in life.
One where I’d have gone to school rather than being meticulously tutored in not just reading, writing and arithmetic but the extensive use of firearms and other weapons, as well. One where I could have been anything from an astronaut to a real estate agent to a mechanic.
Or the teacher I’d once told Alana I’d wanted to be.
Instead of living on the sprawling Varasso estate, I’d have lived in a separate home. Either a simple apartment like the one Alana and I had temporarily shared or a house with a swing on the front porch and a barbecue grill in the back yard. I could’ve had pool parties for my kids and carpooled with my neighbors.
I could’ve gone to bed every night with my wife’s head on my shoulder, confident that no harm would ever befall us. Why would it? There’d have been no reason why we couldn’t grow old together, side by side.
The idea of such a straightforward, brutality-free life appealed to me like the gold of Fort Knox would appeal to a poor man. Alluring, mouth-watering even, but altogether unattainable.
Such an idea could only ever be an illusion for me. There’d be no shirking of this duty, no break from tradition or my never-ending obligations. I’d lead this family and empire just like I’d always been meant to, and at some point in the future, I’d produce a son who’d be tasked with the same responsibility. An heir. It was incumbent upon me to do so.
The time had come to accept my destiny, whether I liked it or not. Still, I didn’t sit in my father’s chair. It seemed wrong somehow. Too soon.
“I’ve made the arrangements for Dad’s funeral,” I spoke into the tension-laced silence. “It’ll be this Tuesday at 3pm in St. Bartholomew’s Church.” He’d be interred next to our mother, in the same row where Alana lay, but I didn’t bother to mention this. My brothers already knew.
“When are we going to take revenge?” Marco bit out, his expression twisted into a snarl.
Inwardly, I sighed. Before we’d all gathered in the dining room, I’d received a manila envelope from one of Bianchi’s runners. I’d glanced through the material, and while I was too scatterbrained to draw any final conclusions, the evidence that something had gone awry with the Bianchi’s financials was clear.
“Not tonight.”
“Why the fuck not?” Marco’s breach of etiquette was understandable. As Molly had pointed out, this day qualified as one of our top ten worst. Regardless, he must show me the respect of my position now, and despite the trauma of what we’d all been through, I had to demand it.
“Because I’m telling you to wait.” My voice cracked like a whip, loud and sharp. Marco blinked, still angry, but put in his place. He nodded, lowering his gaze deferentially, though his expression didn’t change. “I’ve received the reports the Bianchi’s promised. I still need to go over them more thoroughly.”
“Luca,” Gabriel spoke up, his features as tight as Marco’s. “Please tell me you don’t believe them. Dad would never do what they’re accusing him of.”
“Are you sure about that?” Alessandro asked. Unlike Gabriel and Marco, his face seemed more sad and tired than anything else. “I know we don’t like to talk about it, but Dad’s been… different over the past couple of years, especially over the last several months. Less himself.”
It was true. Initially, lost in my own devastated turmoil, I’d stayed away from the Varasso estate. A few months later when I returned, I’d still been too despondent to notice anything amiss. But in hindsight, there’d been signs.