Just then I hear a loud gut-wrenching growl, and I know they heard it too.
How can there be an animal in New York?
I look around to see where it is coming from. That is when I hear one of those girls scream. And against all my better judgement, I step out of the car and run towards the screaming girl.
The almost naked girl is now covered in blood. I’ve never seen so much blood, ever in my life.
Things couldn’t get any worse than this, & just then I hear a powerful voice snarl.
“What is this child doing here?”
Earlier that day
I’m not sure why I’m here.
All my belongings are packed away in the car, and here I am dressed in this chic dress, attending this lavish party at Don Luciano’s house.
After my father’s announcement this evening, Maria told me I was to attend a party with them and post that they would drop nana back. There was no explanation for why I had to pack my stuff.
Most likely I am going to be staying with nana.
This topic has come up multiple times, especially after the twin’s birth. But nana has always convinced my father that it will not leave a good impression on Don Luciano, so the family must stay together.
I might be an unwanted child, but they are the only family I have. I have been staying under their roof, eating their food, wearing the clothes they gave me. Things could have been worse for me, but staying with nana could be ok as well.
I look around Don Luciano’s house. The place looks beautiful. All glammed up, just like the people here who are decked up in their sharp suits, opulent dresses with elaborate hairdos.
Looking at everyone around, I am so glad about the dress that Maria has given me. It’s new, well, new for me at least, though it is about two sizes bigger, making me look even younger. As is, I am already on the lighter side, and that includes my so-called girl assets.
My face, as usual, is plain & pale, with dark circles under my stark green eyes, another of my mother’s distinct non-Italian features.
I am just glad that my usually wild & fiery red curly hair is behaving themselves, despite the long car ride, but the mane that sits on my head still looks too big for my face and body. But at least today they won’t get me a lot of attention, neither in a good nor bad way, I hope.
“Oh My, Oh My! Camel Toe is here.” As soon as I hear Elenora, all my earlier hopes of being invisible disappear. I hate that name ‘Camel Toe’, it’s
Elenora is the ‘IT girl’ of our school and neighbourhood. She and her friends belong to an elite group in our school and within the mafioso (mafia) family. She is also Maria’s best friends’ daughter, though that has never stopped her from doing what she does.
“El, doesn’t the dress look familiar to you” one of the Elenora’s friend, whose name I can’t remember, asks.
“Isn’t this the one you wore to your birthday party last year, the one that your mom got custom made for you in this colour,” the nameless girl continues.
“Oh yes, I gave it away a while back to an orphanage. It’s so last season,” Elenora smirks, with her friend giggling loudly in the background.
“I see my hand-me-downs are working well for you, Camel Toe. My leftovers suit you.” She continues, with more giggles from her gang of girls.
Ignoring them the best I can, walking faster to catch up with nana who is a couple of metres ahead of us.
By the time I catch up with nana, we are almost at our assigned table. Not sure what to do, I quietly sit down next to nana, aiming to be as invisible as possible. ‘
The party is in full flow now; the dancefloor is plagued with people, and the one that are not there are dancing were hanging at the bar or scattered in groups talking and laughing loudly. It was a true Italian gathering- loud noises, louder laughter and even louder dance moves.
Maria is also standing in a corner with her friends. I know most people here, but there are many unfamiliar faces as well.
As I scan the party, I realize that most of the unfamiliar faces don’t look very Italian.
I mean, sure you see the brown hair and the Roman nose on quite a few, but their physique is not very Italian. The newcomers are all taller, and not just taller by Italian standards, they are taller by American standards as well. That it is not all. They are well-built like proper gym bodies, like bouncers, like they spend hours and hours training. There is absolutely no trace of the Italian belly.
Even the women, with their Italian facial features and Italian full bosom, they are taller and well-built, very fit and athletic.
Unable to keep my curiosity, I enquire with nana
“Nana, I don’t know everyone here, is everyone here from neighbourhood”.
Nana, who seemed very lost throughout the evening, seems aware of what I am referring to “They are all part of Luciano family”
I look at her, hoping for some more light on the topic. Luckily, she is herself very forthcoming about the topic.
“The unknown faces you are talking about are not just part of the mafioso, but they are also the blood relatives of the Luciano family. They all stay on the estate together and hold top ranks within the mafioso”
“So, they are all Italians?”
“They are as Italian as you could get.” She said.
“No, it’s just that they don’t look very Italian. Are they from a different part of Italy than the rest of us?”
“Tell me Omerta, what do you know about the word “Don”?” Nana answers my question with another question.
“It’s the head of the family, the mafioso.” I answered instantly.
“Oh Christ! This American Schooling, you children know nothing about your own heritage.”
“The word Don originally comes from the Latin word ‘Dominus’, that technically means Lord, and it in the centuries ago it was used to address the blessed ones”
“The blessed ones?”
“The ones blessed by almighty himself, you see the priests, kings and the ones that were bestowed with powers by gods. They were all called the blessed ones.”
I am not sure I follow what Nana is referring to “Sorry nana, but how is this related to the Luciano family?”
She continues to explain, “So as you know, the Cosa Nostra has been in active since the 19th century, but that actually is the only formal name Cosa Nostra. The mafioso philosophy dates to thousands of years before that. The legend started with the pagan gods”
I see how my nana, a devote Christian, has trouble referring to anyone or any entity as god
“You see when the pagan gods left earth, they blessed certain individuals with some abilities. Making them were faster, stronger, smarter. These were the blessed ones, who took it upon themselves to ensure the protection and prosperity of the community, forming the mafioso.” Nana continues.
Of Course, the mafia had to be the blessed ones.
My nana, like multiple generations of her family before her, is die hard believer in the Cosa Nostra. She does not see it as a crime syndicate. Mafioso, for her, is the family that protects one another and helps one another prosper. It’s where the strong ones protect the weak, and no amount of crime records, police reports or news could change that for her.
“Do you actually believe that Nana” I ask her, but I have an inclination what her answer would be
“Well! They say that the current Don of Cosa Nostra is a direct descendant of these blessed ones. You know the one there are those stories about...”
Of course, I know who she is talking about; the rumour says that he as terrifying as the devil himself.
People refuse to even name him. I have never even heard his first name. He needs no introduction, nor a mention, like the ages old lore goes “Agosti on your breath, can only mean death!!”.
Before I could ask more questions about the blessed ones, I hear my father calling me.
“Omerta! Come with me”
Now where to? I want to ask him where we are going, but I don’t question him & instead quietly follow. Also, since this is the second time, he has spoken to me, and that too in a day, I don’t want to hinder the progress that we have made after all these years. Eager to please, I quietly follow him to the back of the house.
A lot of the people from the party are standing here. Almost all of them are from the Luciano family, the newcomers or the blessed ones as per nana’s stories, all in a super alert mode like they are in competition or something.
One man leads us to the two black cars that are standing right next to the trees.
“Go sit inside the car,” my father barks with a stern expression. I look at him blankly. This doesn’t feel right, the sickly feeling in my stomach is back, I know this is wrong, my head screams danger.
“I said SIT INSIDE THE CAR,” my father repeats himself slowly, clearly angry. What is going on?
I cannot obey or answer back. When I don’t move the man, who accompanied us turns to my father & says “What is this Lucio haven’t you told her?” when my father doesn’t answer, the man takes me by my arm, holding me so tightly that I know it will bruise, and pushes me towards the door of the car
“Listen girl, you are being given away, sent to Cosa Nostra as a tribute from Don Luciano. Now you will be a good girl and do as you are told. Make sure they are happy with you. Do whatever they want, or I will kill you personally, and along with that your entire family”
My mind refuses to think, and I just want to get back home. This is not happening, for sure not happening. I try to run back to my father, but he catches me before that
“Father, please, no, please help me, please take me back,” I cry
“Take you back,” that man laughs “he is the one who suggested your name. He couldn’t wait to get rid of you, like the whore of your mother” he screams.
Despite my struggle & screams, the man shoves me inside the car. All my fight, yelling and fighting is all wane against his large body. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks and turns. I see everyone is now surrounding us, or rather a very tall, muscular man, in front of whom everyone looks normal sized.
“What do we have here?” The tall man asks.
I do not see his face, but all I hear is a loud voice that screams authority, and as he steps forward, everyone puts their eyes down with deference and fear. Even Don Luciano looks weak and afraid next to him. I too move inside the car to put a little distance between him and myself, for reasons unknown to me
“A little gift, from us, Don Set, for your brother. She is an innocent one. I am sure your brother would enjoy her. Please do give my regards to Don A-a Agosti, along with her.” Don Luciano stutters.
Hearing the last word, all the fight leaves my body. I am being sent away, given as a gift to Don Agosti, the tyrant whose stories, legends and lore only scream of a devil.
I am doomed.
“What is this child doing here?” I hear a husky and powerful voice snarl at someone. The voice alone is so commanding that I am forced to look up, to answer the demand that the voice has put forward. As I look up, I come face to face with a pair of beautiful but cold grey eyes, the bottomless grey orbs that could pierce through anything. I have no idea who he is, all I know is that I am terrified. The source of my dread right in front of me, with his perfectly pointed nose, thin lips, chiseled jaw he could have been an angel. But his eyes rage a war of their own, and despite those angelic features, he looks like the devil himself. The week-old stubble and boisterous jet-black hair sealing the despot look. His imposing and frightening aura is like never-ending darkness, a black hole that would swallow you through. He just screams danger!! Instilling a strong sense of fear in everyone around, including me. Unable to hold his pierc
A hand reaches for my face. I can feel the roughness, the calloused fingertips but its touch is feather-light. Caressing my cheek, making me feel warm and protected. As I start to relish the sheltered feeling, a finger starts to trail down my cheek to my jaw and continuing its journey down my neck. I feel something again… it’s an alien feeling like my skin has come alive and is dancing to the touch leaving goosebumps in the finger’s path. I have never felt like this before. The sensation forces me to open my eyes and confront the source, and that is when I am come face to face with those daunting grey orbs, blazing with anger and irritation. “Run Stray Run!!” as I hear those threatening words, my body bolts into action, and I start running. I am in a jungle and I running as fast as I can, towards what I don’t know but one thing i
Lucifer’s POV I can see the child losing her balance, but I catch her before she hits the ground. As I hold her in my arms, I can feel her soft curves against my body, the slight swell of those breasts against my chest, and as if on cue her nipples harden under the thin fabric of her dress, reacting to the contact between our bare skin. ‘She is not a child!!’ my beast & cock moan in agreement, but I ignore it. “Great!! Now, what is wrong with her?” I bark irritated with my beast. “Well let’s see!” Set starts counting on his fingers, maintaining his usual nonchalant style hooded with sarcasm. “Exhaustion, dehydration from crying too much, she has blood pooled around her feet, a man just killed himself, and the fact she was given away as a tribute today. I think the fainting spell is highly deserved brother, don’t you agree.” He is being oversensitive
He was right!! I did not need a passport. None of them did!! We simply got off the plane, and into a big black SUV, zipping out of the airport without any interruption or checks. Not that I have ever stepped out of New York, forget about traveling across international borders. But even I know that you do need a passport to travel across countries. International borders are a part of the school curriculum, isn’t it? What kind of money & influence would make it possible to travel without passports? Is this how the rich & powerful live. There were about seven-eight SUVs for a dozen people, who had exited the plane with us. Well if you can those ‘giants’ people. Now if I come to think about it all these guys look somewhat like the members of the Luciano family. They all have the same very non-Italian physical similarities, that are hard to miss. They are all tall, super muscular making them more intim
Augustus Agosti was standing in all his six-foot three-inch glory in front of me. I know he is an Agosti and that should be enough of an introduction, but I have no idea who is he. There are mentions of the Lucifer and the Agosti brothers, but this man standing in front of me must be in his late forties or at best early fifties. So, not their brother!! And I know Lucifer had killed their father, so who is he? I mean you can see the similarity in their features somewhat. But he feels more human in many ways. He has kind eyes that wrinkle at the corner, and a broad warm smile that makes me want to smile back. He looks regal but still warm, to the usual cold & raw vibe I have seen with the two Agosti brothers. Following others, I too bow my head to pay my respects to him. “Oh no sweet girl, you don’t have to do that.” He says, shocking me & everyone around me. “I am just so glad to have you here! Come
Set’s POV Strangely, Lucifer moved this meeting to Avo’s office instead of his own office. We barely use Avo’s office. All thanks to that unreliable lift, Avo barely uses his office. Not that any of us needs a lift, even Avo at his age, but we need to keep up the pretenses for visitors. “Buon Giorno Avo! Hey Luc…” As I look around his office, it’s only Avo there, sitting on the sofa next to his desk. A smile starts playing on my lips, this is certainly a first. “He’s late!” Avo says smiling, with an extra emphasis on the word late. “Really! is that so,” I say, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice, I take a seat opposite him. Lucifer doesn’t do late, ever, and everyone knows that. Lucifer always has everything planned, always. Even during his anger spells, he thinks through it all, the repercussions of his irrational actions and
I am awakened to loud grunts, people yelling & screaming. For a second, I panic, but then I remember where I am. I am residing with the Agosti family now, in Enna, far away from New York & my old life. I have been here for the last two weeks now. The noises continue to get louder, honestly, these screeching noises used to bother me in the beginning, freaking me out. But not anymore, I know everyone is just working out, or as they say here training. They are just a loud and rowdy bunch on the training ground. They train a lot, like at least four to five hours a day a type, and they train hard, really hard. It’s not your regular workout session, they do extraneous physical, they spar, and it gets bloody. And almost everyone trains, everyone. I guess it makes sense since they are the biggest mafia in the world. And I am living with them. Which strangely is not bad, not bad at all. It is different, yes,
Lucifer’s POV I hate people who waste time. And that is exactly what I have been doing in Milan for the LAST TWO weeks. Wasting my FUCKING time!! It was necessary to send a strong message so that no one dares to cross a line. NO girls, and NO drugs! Cosa Nostra has always detested all dealings concerning girls and drugs, except for those couple of years when that scumbag of our father was running the mafioso. But they all need to know that things are different now, that the liberties my father had taken don’t hold anymore. They all need to understand that our ideologies can never be compromised, my rule is the law, and the result of disobedience is my wrath. And my beast howls in agreement. &