Running From My Mafia Family

Episode 003

The overpowering scent of roses and freshly turned soil was marred by a sharp tang of gasoline, assaulting my senses. It felt jarring, out of place at a funeral. But then again, nothing about Agustin Vega's life was ordinary. The lingering smell of motor oil only reminded us of the risks he took, the adrenaline rush that he lived for, and the inevitable end that came too soon. It was a haunting reminder of a life consumed by speed, power, and a constant quest for victory.

I stood off to the side, my fingers tightly entwined with Lily's as we observed the sombre gathering. Despite her usual lively nature, she was uncharacteristically quiet, her furrowed brow betraying her confusion as she tried to make sense of the heavy atmosphere surrounding us. I longed to protect her from the weight of it all, but reality had a way of seeping through even the strongest defences.

The air was thick with sorrow, and I could feel it pressing against my chest like a physical weight. The mournful faces of those around us only added to the heaviness, their grief palpable in every hushed whisper and tear-stained cheek. But amidst the melancholy, there were also moments of bittersweet remembrance, as people shared fond memories of the one we had lost. As much as I wanted to shield Lily from this pain, part of me knew that it was important for her to witness and understand. Life was not always sunshine and rainbows, and sometimes facing the darkness was necessary in order to appreciate the light. And so we stood together, hand in hand, taking in the raw emotions of those around us and learning valuable lessons about love, loss, and resilience.

The crowd was as colourful as it was intimidating. Men and women in sleek leather jackets and ripped jeans milled about, their faces hardened by years of living on the edge. Their conversations buzzed in low murmurs, punctuated by bursts of laughter that felt more like defiance than joy.

“You sure you want to stay?” Danny appeared at my side, his tone softer than usual.

“I didn’t come all this way to leave now.”

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Fair enough. Just keep an eye out. This crowd... they don’t play nice.”

Wow, really? I glanced towards a tall woman propped up against a tree, her arms folded in a sharp black blazer. Hitomi Yamaguchi. Even without an introduction, she stood out—her edgy, choppy hair framed a face that could probably intimidate anyone who dared to look at her wrong. She was scanning the crowd like a hawk, her poker face giving nothing away.

“Who's she?” I asked Danny, nodding toward her.

“Hitomi. She’s the brains behind the whole operation. If Ruby Pista was a machine, she’s the one programming it.”

As if sensing she was being discussed, Hitomi’s eyes flicked to mine. There was a brief moment of connection—a glimmer of curiosity—before she looked away.

“Friendly,” I muttered.

Danny snorted. “She’s an acquired taste. Smart as hell, though. If she doesn’t like you, you’ll know.”

“Comforting.”

The atmosphere grew heavy as a solemn quiet descended upon the gathered mourners. My gaze was drawn to the front, where a priest stood by Agustin's casket. The rich mahogany glinted in the sunlight, a haunting reminder of the finality of death. Though I had only met him briefly, his passing had sent shockwaves through this world like a boulder crashing into a calm lake.

Alfredo stepped forward, his presence commanding even in mourning. He didn’t look at me, but I felt the tension in his shoulders, the strain of holding it together. His voice was steady as he spoke, though there was an edge to it, a vulnerability he couldn’t quite hide.

“Agustin wasn’t just a friend,” he began. “He was family. Loyal to the core. He lived fast, but he lived true, and he left a mark on all of us.”

The words washed over me, and I couldn’t tell if they were rehearsed or heartfelt. Maybe both. My eyes wandered to the faces around me—stoic, sombre, some holding back tears while others wore their grief like armour.

“Mommy, why are they putting the box in the ground?” Lily’s whisper pulled me back.

“It’s where we say goodbye,” I answered softly, kneeling beside her. “Sometimes people go to a place we can’t follow, and this is how we remember them.”

“Can I say goodbye, too?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

She hesitantly approached the casket, her petite figure seeming even smaller in contrast to the crowd. Her voice trembled as she uttered a soft goodbye to the man lying before her. Turning to me with a serious expression, she asked in a wavering tone, "He'll be okay, won't he?" The weight of her uncertain words hung heavy in the air, mirroring the conflicted emotions swirling inside of me.

I nodded, though the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. “Yeah, baby. He’ll be okay.”

The service ended, and the crowd began to disperse. I stayed put, not ready to leave, watching as Alfredo lingered by the grave. He wasn’t alone for long. Vex joined him; their quiet conversation was too low for me to hear. From the way Alfredo’s jaw clenched, I could tell it wasn’t good.

“Emma, right?” A sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Hitomi stood a few feet away, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Yes?”

“I’m guessing Alfredo didn’t tell you everything about Agustin.”

“No, he didn’t.” My reply was sharper than I intended, but I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Figures.” She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle she hadn’t quite solved. “You want the truth; you’ll have to dig for it. But fair warning—it’s not pretty.”

“I’m not here for pretty. I just want to understand.”

Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Good. Just don’t get yourself killed in the process.”

Before I could respond, she walked away, her heels clicking against the pavement with confidence I envied.

“What did she want?” Danny asked, reappearing at my side.

“To warn me, I think.”

“Typical Hitomi. She loves her cryptic bullshit.”

“Do you think she knows what happened to Agustin?”

Danny hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “If she does, she’s not telling. But she’s right about one thing—things aren’t adding up.”

The murmur of the crowd took on a different tone as I caught snippets of conversation.

“...doesn’t make sense. Agustin never lost control like that.”

“...heard he was onto something big before it happened.”

“...maybe someone wanted him gone.”

Every shard was like a razor blade, slicing through my thoughts with merciless precision. The supposed cause of death: a racing accident. But as we walked away from the cemetery, Lily's carefree skipping starkly contrasted with my mind, whirring and grinding with unsettling doubts. What secrets had Agustin unearthed? And who would go to such lengths to silence him forever? My gut twisted with foreboding, the realisation dawning that this was only the start of a treacherous journey filled with deceit and danger.