Title: A secret Baby by the Mobster
Kira
I walked into the beautiful church for the first time since I was eighteen. My son’s hand is clasped tightly in mine as we walk behind my father to take our seats near the rest of the family.
I can see some family members look at me, their eyes lighting up with excitement as they realize I’m back from Italy. It’s been thirteen years, but nothing has changed aside from everyone looking older. We all sit in the same order, only now there is space for Raphael, who wasn’t here the last time.
My father ushers us into a pew, and we take our seats. Raphael is used to church. We went all the time in Italy as part of our routine. I insisted he learns English because I knew in my heart that one day we would return to New York to be with my father and my family-how I’ve missed them all!
Alessandro takes his seat at the front of the church, and I smile. He glances back at me and gives me a warm smile. I’ve been home awhile and over to his house, but a lot has been going on, so we haven’t really spoken.
Now that everything is settled, I’m sure we can speak today at family lunch.
We sit obediently, Raphael and I, as the priest begins mass.
After the church is done, we wait our turn to file out, following my father, Sonny, to where the priest greets everyone at the door.
I wait for my turn and let Father James take my hand in his, “Sweet Kira, I’m so pleased to see you back in our parish. The church shines brighter with your smile looking up at me. And who is this?”
I nudge Raphael forward, and he holds out his hand. “Hello, Father,” he says politely.
“This is Raphael,” I say to Father James. “He is my son.”
“A child is such a blessing,” Father James says. “I look forward to seeing you every week, Raphael. There is a lot to learn about God’s work.” “Amen,” Raphael says quietly. It’s his go-to response with priests. Father James gives him a bright smile, and we shuffle out the door into the sunshine.
It’s a lovely warm day. Usually, I’d take Raphael home to change and play in the park, but today we have family lunch.
Sunday lunch at the head family’s house was a big deal. We were all expected to show our faces, whether my father wanted us to or not. He generally didn’t complain about it.
Things haven’t changed in my absence, except now it’s held at Alessandro’s house. Father isn’t happy about my return, but there’s nothing I can do about it, as Alessandro requested it-at least, that’s what I suspect.
We all file into the cars parked on the street, me behind my father and Raphael next to me.
“Nonno,” Raphael says, “have you been coming to this church for long?”
“Since I was younger than you, our family has always come here,” my father says, opening the car door for us to file in.
We weave our way through the suburbs, the houses here are beautiful, but Italy has a homeliness that I miss. Especially my grandfather’s estate where we lived, it was beautiful and open, and Raphael spent many days playing in the vineyard.
“Raphael, are you excited to play with your other cousins?” Sonny asks.
“Some of them, I know, but I’m excited to meet new cousins. I love my family.” Raphael grins.
My father nods his approval and adds a pat on the head for my son. My son that he hadn’t wanted me to have, but I was too far along to have an abortion. So Raphael was born, and my father just hid us away from the world, far away, and told me to make my own way.
The problem is that the Don of this family grew up closely with me.
His siblings and I were great friends, and we were practically siblings. We spent almost every day playing together. There was only so long he could hide me from the Don.
We pull into the estate and the car parks. We get out, and I immediately reach for Raphael’s hand. “We must greet Zio first, Alessandro, and then I’ll introduce you to your cousins so you can play.”
Raphael nods as we walk through the house to the backyard near the orchard. It’s set up beautifully, and Alessandro sits at the head table when we enter.
“Ciao, Kira,” he says to me, standing and kissing both my cheeks, “I will never grow tired of seeing you at our home.”
I grin. “Raphael, say hello to Zio Alessandro.”
“Hello, Zio,” he says with a confident smile, “my mother has the most beautiful smile of all.”
“She does, my boy,” Alessandro chuckles. “Go play with your cousins while I steal your mother away to catch up with her.”
Raphael grins. “I don’t need you to introduce me, Mama. I’ll introduce myself.” With that, he leaves my side to join the children playing in the orchard.
“I should help with the food.” I smile at Alessandro.
Alessandro shakes his head and raises a hand. “No, it’s okay. I told
Katya that I wanted to speak to you. Let’s go for a walk.”
I watch as the other family members gush over Raphael, and I smile, looping my arm through my cousin’s. “What do you want to talk about?”
“About you. Why did you leave New York? It was so sudden, and Zio Sonny says he’s too ashamed to tell me. Is it because you got pregnant?”
“Basically,” I sigh, “I got mixed up with the wrong people, got sent away, and then found out I was pregnant. My father is mortified by it, and although he loves Raphael and loves me, I don’t think he wanted us to come back.”
Alessandro nods. “Who was it?”
“Please don’t ask me that,” I say quietly. “I have shamed our family enough.”
He squeezes my hand. “It’s okay. I have some other news for you, though. There’s a position for a chef opening up at the bistro on Fifth Avenue. I’ve told them to hire you for the position. Zio Sonny says you finished your chef course in Italy.”
I smile softly. “You don’t have to take care of me, Alessandro. I’ll get on my own two feet.”
He doesn’t acknowledge what I said. “I’ve also arranged for an apartment for you and Raphael nearby. Arianna has arranged a small car for you. The apartment has its own parking spot.”
We stop at a bench in the middle of the orchard and sit together as the children run around us. “You’re too good to me,” I say quietly.
“You’re like a sister to me.” He leans over and kisses the side of my head. “I will always take care of you.”
Raphael runs past, and Alessandro stops him. “Are you making friends with everyone?”
Raphael nods excitedly. “Yes, Zio, everyone is being very friendly.
I’m having a lot of fun.”
“Good, you’ll probably make many friends at school then too. Do you like New York?”
Raphael beams. “I love it. Did you know my father is from New
York? Mama says when I’m sixteen, she’ll tell me all about him.”
I blush slightly and usher Raphael along, “Go play. It’ll be lunchtime soon.”
Raphael runs off, and Alessandro helps me up as Dominic approaches us. “Kira, it’s so good to see you.” He kisses both my cheeks.
“Remember when we convinced you to ride Nonno’s one goat?” Alessandro chuckles as we walk together.
“Or that time we said you couldn’t go to a party with us, so you told my father we weren’t at church but at Marilyn’s house playing spin the bottle,” he says, laughing.
“The four of you were just trouble,” I tease.
“Oh, and the three of you weren’t?” Alessandro asks. “You and your siblings were just as naughty as we were.”
We walk back to the tables to sit down and enjoy lunch together, reminiscing about what we got up to as children.
Miguel
It’s two in the morning, the hour of poets and gangsters, especially in New York City. You’re either one or the other-there is no mingling in those worlds. The crime lords of this city have no tolerance for the arts other than to use them to cover up illegal business dealings.
Entertainment is our game, the Rossi game. We run casinos, movie production studios, art galleries, and anything in-between.
My driver pulls into the back lot of a quiet industrial area. We don’t own many warehouses to move our products, but the few we have are well isolated. I step out of the car and button my suit jacket. I look around warily, ensuring no unwanted eyes see me walk into the building.
I always have to be on my guard.
“Don Rossi,” the guard greets me, buzzing me into the building. “Where is he?” I ask. I don’t have to speak loudly to be heard.
The guard motions to the right. “At the back. Lyle and Jarred are with him now.”
Suddenly a scream sounds from the direction Harry pointed in. I nod and take long strides, navigating the empty stations to the back, where my two cousins are looking down at a man strapped to a wooden chair.
“Mr. Kippler,” I say. My cousins part ways, allowing me to get nearer the man.
He’s nearly fifty with graying hair. One eye is swollen shut, and his lip is bleeding. There are bruises all over him and more blood stains than I care to count. He’s also pissed himself, which is always charming.
“I apologize for my cousins. They tend to get carried away sometimes. I, on the other hand, am a man of simple pleasures. Tell me what I want to know, and we’ll return you to your family. No further harm will befall you. You have my word,” I explain.
He spits blood onto the ground in front of me. “The word of a Rossi means nothing, especially since I have told your cousins I don’t know anything about the Sorvino family plans. I am only a friend.”
“A family friend who often goes to Don Sorvino’s house. I know that you know the supply routes that the Sorvinos use and that they use your bakery as a cover. What I also know is that you have a beautiful family.
Two girls, right?”
“Leave them out of this,” he whimpers. I’m not moved. I don’t care about children, even my nieces, and nephews. You fall in line, or you’re dealt with, family or not. There is a pecking order, and I am at the top of it.
“Alessandro helped Andre Catalan gain power in Mexico not so long ago. Is Alessandro making a power play for other territories?” I ask, picking up a scalpel from the small table to my right.
“I don’t know.” He stresses the words, and for a moment, I consider believing and trusting him, but I’ve learned you cannot trust anyone in this industry. Not in our world. There is no one you can trust. Everyone will betray you eventually.
I hold the scalpel to the older man’s face. “I’m going to slice your eyelids off so you can never close your eyes again,” I murmur. “And you can watch every little thing I do to you until you have the balls to tell me what I want to know. If you fear the Sorvinos, I can have you and your family moved under our protection. I’m willing to offer you that, Mr. Kippler.”
He stammers a little and then shakes his head.
“No? You don’t want my protection?” I ask, tracing the blade lightly on his cheek, not hard enough to break the skin.
“No, I won’t betray Alessandro. He has been good to me and my family. He is a good man,” Mr. Kippler says.
I nod to Lyle, who grabs the man’s head and tilts it up, holding it steady. “There are no good men in families like ours, Mr. Kippler. Only powerful men and a few men willing to do whatever it takes to control that power.”
I slowly grab his eyelid, and he screams as I slice at it, pulling it at the same time. Lyle holds him as still as he can, and I shush Kippler. “Now, now, I wouldn’t want to take your eye out. We still have so much to do.” I grin, slicing the last bit and pulling the eyelid off. “There, that’s better. Now the other one.”
He screams again but offers me no information. He is a fool-brave, but a fool, nonetheless.
I stay until four in the morning. I look at his lifeless body. He has just died. The torture was finally too much for him to bear, and his heart must have given out. Suffering can do that if you’re not equipped to handle it.
He handled it better than I expected but not as well as a Rossi would. I wipe my hands on a cloth hanging nearby. “Roll his body into the
Hudson and get some rest. I’ll call a family meeting later.”
Lyle and Jarred acknowledge my words and get to work. I leave the way I came, casting a wary glance once more when I’m outside. Alessandro will not be pleased if he finds out I killed a family friend, but he doesn’t need to know yet. I will make my move, and when I do, the Sorvino territories will fall under my command.
My driver takes me back to my apartment, and I take the elevator to the penthouse. I wash my hands properly and change into some sweatpants and a wife beater. I climb onto the treadmill and start running, speeding up every ten minutes until I sprint. Then I lower it slowly only to speed it up again.
I run on the treadmill for over an hour before turning it off and going to the shower.
As the hot water splashes over my body, I let my mind wander just a little. It isn’t a good idea to focus on negative things when you’re a businessman. You need to focus on the positive and keep the money rolling in. Being responsible for the family now that my father is retiring is a new challenge but something I’ve been training for my entire life.
As I rub the soap into my stiff muscles, I consider what I need to say at the family meeting. We need to make a move against the Sorvinos sooner rather than later. They won’t be expecting it because they’re still celebrating their win over Jose Catalan, the Don from Mexico that threatened their family.
I pull on some briefs and slide into bed, lying down on my back and staring through the ceiling at the sky. I specifically had glass ceilings installed in all my residences so that I could see outside. It is shatter-andbulletproof so no one can use it as a weakness, but I don’t sleep. I don’t sleep at all, so I look at the stars and spend the night planning my next move.
I haven’t slept since I was twenty. If I’m honest, I haven’t slept since she left. She just left me, upped, and vanished without a trace, and Lord knows I tried to trace her. I used numerous family resources to try to find her, but no, she’s more than likely dead.
I stare at the brightest star in the sky and give a little sigh. My doctor says it’s insomnia, but I feel like it’s more than that. There’s a piece of me missing; without it, I can never rest. I will never sleep.
I only know that the Sorvinos made her disappear, and I have spent a lifetime planning to make them pay for it.