Chapter 1
Leo
Naples, Italy 2014
“No mercy” were the words that kept ringing in my head as I fired the shots. Those were Marco’s words and when he said something, anything, I took it as command, as did every other member of the family. Marco was our boss. He was the leader of the Aducci family and his words were meant to be followed, no questions asked.
My men and I had taken the guards by surprise. Marco had given us his orders and we followed them. We had launched an attack on a warehouse that was flimsily guarded by the men of the Romano family. They were hiding weapons, encroaching on our territory and they needed to be wiped out.
We were six men to their three guards, with one man in a worn-out suit who we found inside the storage room. He must have been responsible for taking stock because he had a pair of thick glasses covering his face and a file in his hands. He seemed to be taking notes, looking through the stock.
I shot him, straight through his gut and now he was lying in his own pool of blood on the ground and I walked over to him. When I checked, I saw that he wasn’t even carrying a gun. What kind of weapons operation was this?
“All clear,” one of my men said, returning back to where I was standing over the sputtering, quickly dying stock taker. I’d sent two of them out to scan the perimeter and make sure there weren’t any other stragglers we should have taken care of. Apparently, there weren’t.
If the Romano’s were protecting a stockpile of weapons, like Marco said they were, then they were doing a pretty poor job of keeping them safe. They hadn’t prepared themselves against any form of attack.
“Rip everything apart. We need to figure out just how much they have in storage,” I gave my orders to the men who immediately got to work.
I stood over the man, who was mumbling something now, there was blood dripping from his mouth, he was still alive. I could see that he was trying to say something, clutching the puncture wound in his stomach where the bullet had gone through. I clenched my jaw and shot him straight through his head, put him out of his misery.
“No mercy” Marco’s words rang in my head again and I gulped as I watched the man die.
“Leo! No weapons here,” one of the men called out.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I crossed over the dead man’s limp body to go to where the men were ripping apart the wooden crates.
They’d already opened up a couple of them, and as I approached them, one of the men held up a plastic bag of toilet paper.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” I growled and looked in the crate myself. There weren’t just toilet paper in there, there were old clothes and diapers for babies, some thin blankets and tins of baked beans.
“What about the others?” I asked, looking around the storage room.
“Same here,” one of the men said, sifting through the relief supplies in another crate.
“Yup, here too,” a third one said.
“What the fuck,” I murmured to myself. The Romano’s weren’t guarding a warehouse full of weapons, as Marco had told me, they were stockpiling supplies. Possibly for distribution amongst the underprivileged, and now four men were dead guarding this pile of shit.
“Wrap it up here, dispose of the bodies,” I growled, turning away from the men. I tucked my gun back in my jeans and started walking out of the warehouse into the night air.
Four men were dead, most of them shot dead by me. For what? For guarding a warehouse full of supplies for the poor. I bit back a curse as I ran my hand through my hair. This wasn’t the first time in the past year that I was questioning Marco’s decisions. I knew I was supposed to trust him blindly, he had rescued me off the streets after my parents died, when I had no family and I was just a kid. Marco had welcomed me into his family with open arms. I was raised to carry out his orders no questions asked.
I walked over to my bike and jumped on. I was supposed to report back to him and I didn’t know what to say. What I was feeling was exhaustion, I was tired of the continuous bloodshed and the violence of the Aducci family, of Marco’s commands. But how was I supposed to say that to him?
I rode steadily to the bar, where Marco and the rest of the family operated out of and my head was filled with contradictory thoughts. Other families in Naples had resorted to operating more discreetly these days, taking care to not spill the blood of innocents or anyone else, unless completely necessary. We were the only ones who took part in this kind of senseless killing.
And for what? Based on false information like weapons in a warehouse?
I knew I wasn’t supposed to be thinking these thoughts. Complete and unwavering loyalty was what Marco expected of me, and that was what I had given him all these years. Collateral damage was a part of our business. The man’s face flashed through my thoughts. He had looked up at me, pleading for his life. Why was I still seeing the face of the bleeding stock taker on the floor of the warehouse? Was I going soft? Was I losing my mind?
I stopped my bike outside the bar and waited for a few minutes to gather my thoughts. I’d been feeling this way for a year now, and it was only getting worse. The more senseless killing and violence that Marco ordered me to undertake, the worse that nagging feeling got.
I knew that it was a blessing that Marco had taken me under his wing when I was a kid, I should have felt grateful. And yet, as I walked through the doors of the bar tonight, I couldn’t stop feeling the need to finally say something.
***
Marco was in his office as usual and I walked through the bar, collecting my glass of Campari on the way in.
Marco was on the phone when I stepped in, he preferred to do most of his business dealings at night. For which he was dressed as usual in his three-piece suit and the thick gold rings sparkled on his fingers as he tapped the desk.
I shut the door behind me and he held up a finger as he finished the call. I remained standing, leaning against the door and watching him as he spoke. The man who was supposed to be like a father to me.
“Leo! My boy!” Marco exclaimed when he banged down the receiver. “What news?” he asked and I stepped forward to his desk.
“Everything went smoothly. There were three guards and a clerk sort of guy,” I reported and Marco nodded his head, his eyes were glittering with vicious excitement.
“All dead?” he asked and I nodded my head.
“Well done, son, have a seat,” he gestured at the chair across from him and I did as I was told, I sat down.
“What did you find? How much stock?” Marco asked and I took a sip of my drink before I spoke again.
“No weapons, just toilet rolls and tins of baked beans,” I replied, staring at him for a reaction. Marco raised his eyebrows in mild surprise and then clucked his tongue.
“Better luck next time then, I guess,” he said and laughed boisterously. Anger bubbled up in my chest as I clenched my jaw. I was hoping for a little bit of regret from him. I wanted him to feel what I was feeling, but it was obvious that Marco wasn’t going to.
He raised his glass of Campari instead for a salute and I held back. I couldn’t see the cause of celebration.
“What? You’re not going to drink with me, Leo?” Marco asked and took a sip of his drink instead. I cleared my throat and looked around the office shiftily.
“Four men are dead,” I replied and he crossed his brows, like he was confused by what I was saying.
“Yes, good job, those Romano’s need to learn to stay off our turf,” he barked and sat back in his leather chair.
“What territory? They weren’t stockpiling weapons, those were supplies meant for distribution,” I said, trying to keep my voice even, to not give away my frustration.
Marco jumped forward again.
“This time, yes, but what about next time? And the time after that? We have to take every opportunity we get, boy, to make a profit, to not show weakness,” Marco spoke passionately, with an angry vein bubbling in the middle of his forehead.
“Yes, you’re right, boss,” I said and shifted my feet.
“Good. I’m glad we see eye to eye on this, Leo. You know you are my most trusted and loyal operative,” he declared and held his glass up again for a salute. I had no choice but to do the same this time and after we had drunk our drinks I decided to speak again.
“It’s just that, boss, we are the only ones on the attack and most of the times, we are getting it wrong these days. Innocent men end up dying,” I said, holding Marco’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes at me and I could see him gritting his teeth silently.
“Are you questioning this family’s methods, Leo?” he asked and I said nothing.
“Are you, boy?” he growled and I gulped and shook my head.
“No, boss, it was just a thought. I follow orders,” I told him and Marco sat back in his chair again, his pulpy face stretched in a smile.
“Good, because I have an important assignment for you,” Marco stated.
I stared at him, trying not to give away my hesitation. I was less than enthusiastic to hear what this next assignment was going to be. How many more people were going to die at my hands?
“My daughter, Isabella, you remember her? She’s coming back to Naples,” Marco said.
I did remember Isabella, we were still kids when Marco sent her away to the States, but she had already made an impression on me before she left. I nodded my head at Marco and he continued.
“I need you to go to the airport in the morning and pick her up, just keep an eye on her while she’s here. She hasn’t been here for so long, she’s probably forgotten our ways,” Marco added a laugh at the end of that and had some more of his drink.
“Yes, boss,” I replied and stood up.
“And Leo,” Marco stopped me before I could leave. “Isabella is precious to me, my only daughter. I’m relying on you to keep that girl safe, you hear?” he continued and I nodded my head.
“Yes, boss. I’ll keep an eye on her,” I replied and turning from him, I walked out of his office and back to the bar.
The men had returned from the warehouse, having taken care of the bodies. They were all drinking now but I didn’t join them. Instead, I walked out, with my glass discarded and stood outside for a while. The news that Isabella was returning to Naples had affected me.
She probably didn’t even remember me. I was nothing but a street kid then, still recovering from the head injury that had made me forget everything that happened before the accident. Marco said that my parents were killed and he had taken me in. Isabella was his beautiful young daughter who had recently lost her mother. She didn’t even notice me around.
And now she was coming back, at the same time that I was beginning to doubt my loyalty to her father. My head was messed up, I felt drunk even though I’d barely had anything to drink.
I hoped that a good night’s sleep would solve all this.