Trapped In A Mafia Maze

"Where to, miss?” The driver asked as Bella settled in the cab. “Just drive, anywhere far from this draining place,” came the reply. As the driver stepped on the gas pedal, amused at such a request, the mind of Isabella wandered. It had been yet another stressful day at the office, with the usual problems: so much to do and not enough time to do it. Working as an accountant for a multimillion fashion company would seem, to anyone, like a fun job, but in reality, it was synonymous to hell. Endless books to balance, figures to total and a triple check of everything to make sure that someone wasn't stealing even a dime. It was worth it, for the pay of $45,000 per month, but Bella knew that she didn't need to work for money.. Her father was… No, no, she wouldn't think about it; not today. “Here.. This is the place,” Bella said abruptly. Despite her many thoughts, she'd been very conscious of her surroundings. After handing the cabbie $12, she stepped out of the car and began to walk the rest of the way to her apartment building. Though she'd turned her back on her family's vices, she had always maintained the things they'd taught her, one of which was to make sure no one knew her address who didn't need to. “You can never trust any man completely,” she muttered to herself, “and why should you? The only one who will always have your back and put you first is you.. You are your best friend..” These were the lessons her stepbrother had taught her as a child and although she was now 28 years old, they'd never left her. It was weird, though, why she was remembering her family, all of a sudden. She looked over her shoulder a couple times and, after ensuring that she wasn't being followed, crossed the street to enter her apartment building. All she wanted to do was get to her house, grab a snack and collapse onto her bed. Her day had been super stressful and she was very glad that it had come to an end, or so she thought. *** Elsewhere, an emergency meeting was being held in the Moretti mansion. Although the room itself looked pretty unperturbed and soothing, the men who occupied it were all breathing heavily with their mouths open like fish gasping for air, their eyes wider than the Mediterranean and their white shirts, which were underneath their trench coats, stained with fresh blood. They had a joint disposition of frustration and anger, and although a few of them sat down, one among them couldn't bring himself to do so. His name was Tito Moretti and he was Don Moretti’a stepson. Soon, he spoke up: “They must pay for this.. They must pay, all of them.. They must pay!” None of the men in the room looked up at him, and some even started to weep. The cause for sorrow was evident: Don Moretti, their boss, had just been assassinated in a shootout. “But first, I need answers.. How did they know where the Don was dining? How? It was no coincidence that on the very day that the Don decided to leave the house, after three months of laying low, we got greeted by a drive-by.. So can anyone answer me, how did they find us?” The room remained stone silent. The men were shivering. Frustrated by the silence, Tito took off his hat, revealing golden, curly hair, eyes that were colder than ice and a scar on his left cheek. “Silence, huh? Well, that's fine.. Armando, you were supposed to be in security detail.. How did it happen that none of the men we left outside saw the attack coming?” The one who was Armando replied, “I have no idea.. They were in position, armed and ready in the case of any violent eventualities. This looks to me like an inside job, but I swear to you, Tito, I had nothing to do with it..” “Maybe you didn't,” Tito replied, “But someone clearly had plenty to do with it. And even though I can't find the fellow, now, someone must pay for this..” “Tito, calm yourself, we just lost our leader and so this is no time to go around executing people purely on sentiments,” said someone. His name was Cisco. “The Don..” Tito started, but Cisco cut him off. “.. Is dead, I know.. I was there, by his side, as the bullets ripped into him from the mercenaries. Clearly, they had information, but they were also skillful enough to get past our men without anyone noticing, and then cause us to retreat by reason of their sheer ruthless firepower . They took our leader, and I share your frustration because he was just as much my benefactor as he was your stepfather, but you need to act with caution. We will find the men who did this, and we will make them die slow and painful deaths.. But this is no time for further killing. What we should do now is plan.. Our Don is dead, and before he died, we all knew that you would be the next leader. So, leader, we have a problem here: We had to leave the Don's body in a public diner while trying to save our asses and soon, word will spread. And then our enemies - who are numerous - will swarm us. What are we going to do about that?” Tito then began to think. Cisco was right. Don Moretti had made a lot of enemies in his time, and anyone of them would love to pick the bones of his organization, now that he was dead. They needed something to ward them off.. An alliance, maybe. And so he voiced his thoughts. “We need to join forces with a family that hates us the least but has enough power to keep us protected. And there's only one name: The Romano Family.” At the mention of that name, they all shuddered. The Romanos were not only feared by mafias, but political leaders. Many campaigning governors had backed out by a simple letter from them. They had power, a lot of it. But that was the problem; they were extremely dangerous and an alliance with them could spell doom. But this was a risk Tito was willing to take. Cisco, as well. “Very well,” Cisco responded, “so what are we going to offer them in return? There's no amount of money or territory we have that they need, so what'll be our bargaining chip?” At this point, wheels turned in Tito's head and he remembered something.. Or rather, someone.. So he began to walk out of the room. “I have an idea.. All of you, stay here, but you, Cisco, you come with me. We have an overdue visit to pay.” *** Bella had fiddled with her door locks for a while before making entry into her house, and as soon as she entered, all the plans that she'd been mentally memorizing flew out of the window. What she saw, or rather who she saw, had scared the wits out of her: Tito, her stepbrother. And Cisco, a loyalist of her father's, both sitting dutifully on her couch. “Gah! Jesus, you need to stop doing this! How did you get in here, by the way? You know what, don't answer that; you're mafia, you can get into anywhere you want; The real question is, what the hell are you two doing in my house at this time of night?” Usually, after she'd scream and yell, Tito would flash a smile and make silly jokes before saying he was simply checking on her - he popped up every now and then, to ensure that she was always protected - but this time was different. He wasn't even looking up. Cisco, on the other hand, was looking at her with a look of fear in his eyes. Something was truly wrong. “Tito? Cisco? What's going on? Why are you both so gloomy and.. is that.. blood?” Bella just noticed the blood on Cisco's shirt. Okay, something was definitely wrong. She joined Tito on the couch and saw, to her surprise, tears in his eyes. “Tito.. You're crying.. You never cry.. What's wrong?” And Tito's response came in a chilly voice that she'd never forget: “Bella, it's father.. He's dead..”