Luciano
Sitting at the top of the luxurious resort, whiskey in hand, I found myself lost in the vast expanse of the midday sky. Thoughts whirled within me, a storm brewing in my mind. Betrayal-a poison that could taint even the strongest bonds.
If my suspicions were correct, then I was bound to face it soon within my own family.
There was a nasty fucker selling me out to the Castello. That could be the only explanation. I took another swig of my drink, looking for the familiar whiskey burn to help me keep my senses.
Luca must have noticed how sour my mood was. He sat across me on a recliner, his eyes wide with curiosity as he took in the expression on my face.
“Is there trouble?” Luca inquired, curiosity tinged with concern evident in his voice. I almost laughed at the use of words. Is there trouble? It had been a childish thing Giorgia used to say when we were younger.
The streets of downtown Italy were never friendly. Not even to children. I couldn’t count how many times I’d had to run for my life while dragging Giorgia with me.
She had developed the phrase for every time we needed to run.
Giorgia.
I took a sip of my whiskey, allowing the taste to linger on my tongue before I responded. “Tell me, Luca, what do you think about betrayal?”
Luca’s face grew serious, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated my question. “Betrayal,” he spoke, his voice laced with conviction, “is the ultimate sin according to our mafia laws. It breaks the bond of trust we have and it’s an act that cannot be forgiven.”
I nodded, his words resonating with the thoughts that had plagued me. “True,” I replied, my voice firm, “betrayal should never be taken lightly. It demands a swift and resolute response.”
Curiosity sparked in Luca’s eyes as he sensed the gravity of our conversation. “What would you do, Luciano, if someone were to betray you?”
I glanced at him, chuckling at the thought. What bastard would dare? They had to know they would pay deathly. I would ruin them first and then take their damned miserable pathetic lives. I looked Luca in the eye, my voice steady. “That fucker better get ready to smell his ass. He’d wish he had never been born.”
Luca held a palm to his chest, his face stern as he swore. “I swear, Luciano, that anyone who dares to betray you will meet the end. Nobody would dare!”
His unwavering pledge soothed the doubts that had plagued my mind. Luca had always been there growing up. Giorgia and I met him when we were half mad with hunger and starving hell to death. I would always remember that afternoon.
The sun in Sicily burned hotter than the midday sun that currently cast a glow upon us. I, a twelve-year-old all skin and bones, had been stalking a rat in the garbage can with a shard of broken pottery when I noticed some blonde chubby fool offering a huge sandwich to Giorgia.
Well, I hadn’t known he was offering it. I had thought he was rubbing it in her face and had kicked the crap out of him before he could explain himself. I grinned at the memory.
“What are you laughing about?” Luca asked. “Man, you’re fucking weird. One minute you’re all Batman, the next you’re like the damned Joker.”
“I was thinking of the good old times,” I muttered. “Remember when we first met?”
“How could I not?” Luca grumbled but despite his tone, his blue eyes twinkled. “You beat the shit out of me, you bastard.”
“Si,” I said with a grin on my face. “I thought you were mocking Giorgia!”
“Why would you think that?” He asked, spreading his palms. “What fool goes close to the homeless person and tried to mock them with food?”
People did, I wanted to tell him. People had done it several times. Giorgia and I had known nothing but struggle, scraping by day by day. My parents were killed. Hers too. Somehow she stuck to me and I allowed it. Hell, what was I supposed to do? I was seven with no one in the world.
It was sad as hell to see a little girl bundled up in a corner of an alleyway, crying her eyes out. All we had was each other and no one else. And it continued like that for five years, until I was twelve.
But Luca had been born fortunate. His father, hell his whole family was one of the richest in Italy. He hadn’t known suffering or pain and even now, it was hard to make him understand the shitty things we had gone through.
I didn’t hold that against him though. If he hadn’t taken us in, if his father hadn’t taken us in, then I’d probably have died in a ditch or something.
Growing up with Luca had been… Remarkable? Yeah, remarkable seemed to describe it fittingly. For the first time in seven years after my parent’s death, I had good food to eat. I had clothes and the rain and mud of Sicily didn’t wash all over my skin.
Luca had been influenced a lot by me. At least that’s what his padre said when he angrily kicked me out, three years afterwards. I had done the unthinkable. I had joined the mafia and Luca and Giorgia had joined because I did.
But they had stayed with me despite it all.
That was why my chest felt like there was a million-ton metal sitting fucking pretty on it.
I closed my eyes and tried to even my breathing. How could it be that my closest friend and ally, the one who had stood beside me through thick and thin, had seemingly turned against me? The weight of that realization settled upon my shoulders and it was fucking heavy as hell.
Giorgia.
I had hoped my speculations were wrong. I still hoped they were.
“It’s Giorgia,” I said in a husky tone and downed the entire whiskey down my throat. “Giorgia’s the mole.”
Luca looked at me like I had grown ten fucking heads and then shook his rapidly. “You’re lying,”
“The fuck? Why would I lie about this?” I snapped feeling irritated.
“No, Luciano,” Luca protested, his voice filled with conviction. “Giorgia would never betray you and you know that!”
“I work with facts, Fratello, and the evidence, the whispers, they all point to her involvement. I can’t ignore the damned signs. Every single fucking time we plan to visit someone who could tell us shit about the Castello, that person ends up dead and tied to our name. It’s Giorgia.”
Luca’s eyes bore intensely into mine, his gaze unwavering. “You have to trust me on this, Luciano,” he said leaning forward, “Giorgia has always loved you, silently, from the depths of her heart. She would never bring harm to you. She’d rather die.”
“She has been snooping around my things lately!” I bellowed. “If it’s not her-”
“It’s not her! Okay?! Will you calm down and think this through?!” Luca yelled in turn. “Giorgia would never do that to us!”
“You don’t know that,” I said calmly and poured myself another drink. I didn’t want to believe it either. I wanted to believe it was someone else but hell even Marcus suspected Giorgia.
Until I found solid evidence that she was involved or not involved, I would not believe shit.
“I know that, you bastard! I just told you she loves you!” He snarled.
I raised a brow and looked at him. He was agitated. “You won’t say anything about that?” He asked, breathing heavily and I shrugged.
“I don’t love her,”
“That’s cold,” he replied. Blue eyes turned icy as they glared daggers at me. “You do know how to mess with a woman’s heart. I don’t fucking blame you. I blame her for having eyes only for a cold bastard like you.”
“Would you rather I lead her on and make her think I love her in return when I don’t? Which would be more brutal?” I asked and he sighed.
“Fair point,” he mumbled.
“Did you try-”
“Yes,” he grumbled. “She tried to kill me when I told her how I felt. I’m not going through that shit again.”
Classic Giorgia.
With a heavy sigh, I looked at Luca. “I’ll assume you’re right, Luca. Let’s say I let doubts cloud my judgment. Giorgia has always been there for me, and I should trust in her loyalty. But! She had better not stab me in the fucking back or hell will be loose.”
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “What’s next then? You’ll suspect me?”
I shrugged and grabbed the whiskey bottle. If it wasn’t Giorgia then who the hell was it? How the fuck hadn’t I found the person yet? Was I too fucking blind to see what was really before my very eyes. I sighed and closed my eyes.
“For everyone’s sake, I hope she’s not the mole.”