My Charming Mafia

Chapter 1 - My wrong-up fate

Rene

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I woke up so suddenly and my heavy eyes first caught the themings on my ceiling. I closed my eyes and Marco, my elder brother came to mind and I opened my eyes again. I felt restless and bothered and yet I tried to relax.

A long soft hand came to settle on my naked chest, and it was then I realized I wasn't alone. Next to me was Veronica, my best friend in high school and college, then my secret lover and also, became my brother's wife, now his ex-wife, no, his widow.

Shit.

A low sigh left my lips as I cursed myself inwardly for getting into bed with my best friend and my brother's widow yet again. I recalled having a lot of tequila last night and Veronica suddenly showing up out of the blue to the bar.

Marco had been gone for over a year now. But even now his untimely death was still fresh in my head. I hadn't quite gotten over his death and what he had left behind.

Veronica's legs entwined with mine and her head soon came to lay on my chest. I wanted to tell her to go but that might come off as darn rude. I know Veronica must also be very hurt and her way of coping was...this.

“This is wrong, so f*****g wrong.” I couldn't help myself. I felt like I was f*****g betraying Marco by bedding his wife. I flipped the covers off and I got out of bed, found my boxers lying next to the bed and immediately wore them on.

“I need this, Rene...” Veronica looked at me, her eyes stricken with grief and sadness.

Fuck!

I came towards the bed and shook my head as I touched her face. “We can't anymore. Last night shouldn't have f*****g happened.”

I entered the bathroom and stood by the sink. My reflection stared back at me from the mirror. I looked like a piece of s**t and Veronica laying on my bed at this moment was f*****g stupid of me.

I stepped out and found my bed empty with no sign of Veronica. I was f*****g relieved that she had understood my point and left just like that. I came to now sit on my bed, feeling very exhausted and still trying to manage the hangover I was having right now.

I heard my phone ring and I looked around to find my phone. My room was a f*****g mess and finding my phone was going to be a hell of a job this early in the morning. Luckily I located my phone under my bed, which was very weird but I was in a drunken state last night so it was possible.

The moment I saw it was my father calling, I didn't answer. Instead, I threw the phone on my bed and sat down on my bed again. I let the phone ring so many times but didn't touch it. I knew what my father wanted to talk to me about, and I wasn't f*****g ready for such a thing.

Marco.

My brother, Marco was a good man. He was everyone's favorite - My father's, my mother's and even Veronica's. It was why Veronica chose him over me. There was something about Marco that everyone loved, including me.

And it was also why I knew I couldn't do what he did. Marco was a fearless Don in the Cosa Nova, just like my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather and etcetera. He was brave, strong, sharp and knew how to always make the right decisions. Because of his strong personality and reign, my family's mafia organization still had the control over Italy till now.

And right now the Cosa Nova needed the next Don which was obviously going to be me as I was now the only son of Vincent Giordano.

“Why did you die, Marco? Why did the f**k did you have to go right now!” I held my head and inhaled. I f*****g needed something to get rid of this f*****g hangover. If only Marco hadn't chosen to get on that flight, then I won't have my father breathing down on my neck to claim the title of Don in the Cosa Nova.

I could never become what Marco was. My daily life only revolved around recovering from the night before and planning my next night with my homies. I was f*****g free to do what I wanted while Marco ran the Cosa Nova and made our father proud.

I was running on the treadmill, sweat dripping down my back while trying to expand my lungs and dragging as much air in.

Don't think about Marco. Don't think about dad or the Cosa Nova. Don't think about the s**t that you did with Veronica last night.

Breathe...Breathe....Just breathe.

I didn't want to feel anything. Just the sound of my feet thumping hard on the treadmill as I pushed myself to the limit. I only wanted to feel my limbs c***k and my muscles sore, to the point that I felt totally drained out and not even have the capability to think about a thing.

But the thing was that I couldn't stop thinking about Marco, no matter how hard I f*****g tried.

I had avoided going back to Italy for more than a year now after Marco's death. I didn't even return to attend his funeral and my mother was f*****g pissed off about it. She hadn't called me since then and I f*****g deserved it.

I knew I couldn't delay my reasons for not returning to Italy. An entire year had passed since that darn tragic day and now I had no choice.

Fuck! I was thinking again. I angrily took off my headphones that had music blasting through the speakers, and that didn't even prevent me from thinking about my forced up responsibilities.

I slowed down the treadmill and got off, it was clear that physical exercise wasn't working for me right now. I was jugging down some water when I heard my phone ringing.

I thought of ignoring it but then it could be one of my homies calling to schedule the place for our night get-together. I walked to my bedroom and picked up my phone which I had left on the bed.

It was Tiago calling.

Tiago was Marco's right hand. Marco trusted Tiago with everything and with his life. But what was f*****g strange was that Tiago had never contacted me before. The only way I had his number saved on my phone was because of Marco - he purposely saved Tiago's number on my phone.

For some reason, my fingers swiped on the screen and the call got connected.

“Rene, I know you know it's me calling.” Tiago said.

I sensed something strange in Tiago's voice. “What the f**k is going on?”

“Your father just had a major heart attack. He can't take the reigns anymore. You need to return back to Italy. And this time you cannot say no, Rene. Either get on the next flight down here or I'll come over there and drag you back here...”

The call got disconnected.

“Shit...” Now I f*****g knew there was no way I could delay staying back in Chicago any further.

Welcome to my f****d-up fate.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Heading back to Italy was definitely not how I had f*****g pictured spending my entire Sunday.

I knew heading back was no decision of mine. But I also knew Marco would have wanted me to head back and stand by our father. I was nowhere as good as Marco. On the contrary, I was bloody useless and I f*****g knew it.

I wouldn't have been in this position had Marco had any heirs. Now I had to take over as Don, even though I didn't want to. I had no f*****g choice. How f*****g funny was my situation.

The plane landed after ten long darn hours and the moment I got off the plane, I was welcomed by the warm Italian mediterranean climate. A fleeting heat filled the air and now I was f*****g missing the fair weather in Chicago.

I got my bag over my shoulder and exited the airport. I rolled my eyes as soon as I spotted Loki parked outside the airport. “What's up, Loki? How's it going?” I threw my bag at him and he caught unto it. Sharp guy.

I got into the passengers seat and waited for Loki to dump my bag in the backseat before joining me in the front and started the car.

“You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you, little man, how old are you now? Eighteen, twenty?....”

“Twenty-four, Loki. Try to keep up.” I shook my head as I rolled my eyes heavenward.

Loki let out a laugh. “Darn, and you could have fooled me for being eighteen...”

He got his arm around my shoulder and I shoved his arm away with a smirk. “f**k off, Loki.” We both chuckled and laughed it off, then it went silent all of a sudden. “How's my old man doing?” I didn't look at him as I asked.

“So you heard about Vincent's heart attack?”

“Oh come on, Loki. Are we gonna pretend that you don't know why am actually back in Italy,” I didn't fuckin fancy the feigned ignorance. Tiago must have informed everyone about me returning back home. And I'm sure not everybody would be happy about my return, and neither was I.

“Oh come on, didn't you even miss your home country after staying away all these years, Rene?” Loki looked at me and I huffed. Of course I didn't miss Italy, much less the Cosa Nova. I was only back here because...well, my old man chose the worst time to have a freakin heart attack. There was no way I was f*****g ready to take on the role of Don but apparently nobody fuckin cared.

“Your father will be thrilled to see you.” I bet he would. I tried not to scoff at Loki's words as I got my attention outside, probably to stare at some fuckin buildings passing us by.

We reached the Cosa Nova, and immediately I could feel it. I could smell it in the air, and it honestly didn't make me feel good at all, not one fuckin bit.

An entire year had passed since that very fateful day that Marco died.

And I wished that I could say that life had moved on in the Cosa Nova, but for the most part, and from what I could see, it seemed that it was pretty far from the truth. Marco was still a part of the Cosa Nova as he once was before he died. The grief and the raw pain could still be felt everywhere, the silence also added to the facts.

If anything had changed, it was that Marco was very much like a shadow right now in the Cosa Nova than a memory. A lot of streets were named after Marco, a gigantic picture of him was even put over the great wall. Loki even told me about the altar that was set up for Marco at the cathedral.

Not that I was fuckin jealous, hateful or any of that s**t. I fuckin loved my brother and till this day I fuckin missed him so much. He was the one who allowed me to have my freedom outside the Cosa Nova when our father disagreed. He was the only person who understood me, who got me and my wish to live life outside the Cosa Nova and far away from the Giordano name.

Marco was the obedient guy, loved by everyone, while I was the rebel. I never wanted to take any responsibility and Marco knew about it. So that's why I was fuckin mad at him for leaving us so suddenly. And now I was forced to take over, but how could I when Marco's presence was still very much alive and left to be seen all over the Cosa Nova.

Not even my own father could apparently match up to Marco. Marco was a legend and did leave his mark in Cosa Nova.

Tiago was waiting outside as soon as Loki pulled the car over in front of my parents' home. As soon as Loki stopped the car, I opened my side of the door and stepped out, with a hard face. Curse Tiago for calling me and informing me about my dad's health.

“Welcome back home, Rene. It's been...five years?” Tiago c****d his stupid head to the side.

“Six years, dumbass.” I corrected and when Loki came with my bag, I took it from him and threw it at Tiago to hold instead. Served him right for being such a prick.

He received the bag calmly with a smirk. He was always the calm and collected type, and I guess that's one of the reasons why Marco trusted him so much. “Your father is waiting for you.”

“Right now? Can't it wait till tomorrow?” I got my hand to scratch the back of my head. Honestly, I didn't want to meet my old man tonight, or more like I wasn't ready to face him, nor my mother or any of the people right now.

“Your father's been waiting to see you for a long time now. He really misses you, Rene!” Loki clapped me on the back and I only forced a tight smile on my lips.

My father never once gave me a call to check up on me while I was in Chicago In all these years. Of course, my old man would realize my existence now, right after Marco's death as I was his only living and existing son to carry on the Giordano lineage forward.

I took another deep breath for the fifth time while standing in front of my father's bedroom door. I fisted my knuckles before I placed a knock on the door, got my hand on the knob, twisted it and opened the door.

I pushed open the door a little wider before I walked in.

“Rene...my son? You're finally here.” I heard my old man's weak voice, and f**k, I hate that it did something to me, it stirred something in me, something I didn't want to fuckin feel.

“It's been six long years, papà.” I moved closer to the side of his bed. “I bet you forgot how I looked like.”

“My son, I could...never forget you. You are my blood.” He pulled himself up and I involuntarily got the pillows up to support his head. He looked at me and he didn't look so dull and pale like I had imagined. “I'm glad you're finally back, Rene.”

“I didn't have a f*****g choice, did I?” I said and my father glared at me for cursing in front of him.

“Well, when you mention it like that, son, then maybe it is, because tomorrow evening is your engagement with Alfred De Cano's only granddaughter.”