No one told me that grief felt so much like fear.

        ~C.S Lewis~

                       Writer's Voice

Romano walked out through the same entrance to exit to a torrential downpour. Luckily, Devonni pulled over a black Mercedez Benz just as he stepped out of the hotel's driveway speeding away, leaving a dead body and a naked woman still crumpled on the floor unable to stop crying.

He sighed as soon as he got into the car, watching raindrops splattering across the windscreen.

It was relaxing, hypnotic even, watching car wipers move across the windshield, but the earsplitting crack of thunder and the flashing lighting felt like the gods were angry at what he's just done. But he did not care about that, neither was he going to lose sleep over killing another son of bitch. In his opinion, he had done humanity a favor.

I have sent the first message, he thought as he closed his eyes, removing the gloves, placing them on the next seat, while wondering how he would manage to send the second one.

Devonni, he noted, kept giving him secrets looks on the rear mirror. "Do you have something to say?" He mumbled then, shaking his head, speeding the car through a private road towards home. "What's on your mind?" Rom asked again, exhaling deeply like he'd spent the day doing manual labor, his eyes fixed on Dev's face on the rear mirror. But Devonni shrugged, shaking his head again without saying a word. None of them spoke after that; only the howling sound of the car was heard as they scrapped through the deeply hidden road between trees.

At the exact time, Rom was getting out of the car, Paulie was kneeling in front of his dead brother's body, wailing, despite the crowd that had gathered at the door while holding onto him so tight like he was trying to infuse his energy into him. But Tony was gone, and Paulie understood the finality of death; he grew up watching it happen, but he never thought it'd come a day when he had to bury his brother.

His heart was breaking, his body was exhausted, and he was losing his mind wondering where to begin, Tony was the one who always knew what to do, and Paulie followed him. But now he was dead, murdered. And the only person who'd witnessed it was a woman who seemed unable to stop crying.

"Shut the hell up and tell me what happened" someone had given her a sheet which she was clutching tightly around her body as if her life depended on it. She muttered something, her eyes pleading with Paulie, who seemed so angry at everyone and everything around. It was too late to get out of this life unscathed; she thought because she knew if she were to leave this place alive, it would be impossible to forget what happened today.

"If you do not speak in coherent sentences, I will bang your head against that wall" He pointed at the wall, his eyes still fixed on the girl's face. He did not care that she was scared or still shaking; he wanted answers, and whether he ended up killing her wasn't one of his concerns.

"Talk," He snapped, stepping on her hand. She screeched, rubbing it on her cheek. "He was wearing leather." She managed to say, tears glistening her eyes, and the sound of her heartbeat so loud she thought everyone in the room could hear it.

"Did he say anything?" The girl vigorously nodded, thinking this would finally satisfy the ugly, angry man whose eyes held a murderous rage. He said, "For her, and because I cannot forgive your brother." Paulie blinked with surprise and confusion, racking his brain, wondering what that meant, but he couldn't come up with a reason or remember anything he'd done that warranted his brother's death instead of his. And who the hell is 'her?' An hour later, Paulie had known who'd killed his brother with the help of Stefano.

Now and then, the past has been known to come back to demand its due. It's like an unwritten rule that as long as you live somehow, the past is bound to knock on your door no matter how many times you change your address. It might come in the form of regret, but sometimes, for a few, it demands a penalty, and in Paulie's case, careless words and intent had taken his brother. It's unfair, he thought, he did not rape her. He didn't even hurt her, but his brother had paid the highest price.

Watching the rain through the window with Stefano lying down on the bed, Paulie wept quietly until he got tired, his body so exhausted he didn't have the energy to fight or go out on a revenge mission, not yet anyway.

Stefano, however, knew Tony's death was only the beginning. He knew it was a message.

Slowly, wincing from pain, he turned towards Paulie, looking at his shoulders shaking, knowing he was crying and felt pity for him. He was weak, but Tony always made him feel stronger.

He wondered what was in store for him, was it death, torture, or years of mourning for his kin? But Stefano did not have the time to pity him; he had his own problems. He was in pain; the doctors said the disease was spreading rampantly, and Romano was coming for him. They had never directly interacted; the only time he'd been close to him was when he had helped Boselli save his woman.

There were a lot of rumors surrounding Romano, one of which was that he was a man of few words; the other was that he knew at least one powerful man in every single city. While Stefano knew most things in their world were exaggerated, he knew those about Romano were mostly accurate.

He swore for the hundredth time, cussing at the gods for choosing Romano and not a weak ass man for his daughter.

"There is no time for tears right now." He told Paulie as he adjusted himself in a sitting position. Knowing he was going to die did not stop him from wishing he didn't have to, but dying in debt was embarrassing and unforgivable; that is why he needed Mia.

He had to have her. Suddenly a thought hit him; he would use Paulie's rage to fuel hatred towards Romano and the woman who'd caused his brother's death.

After all, what better way to avenge his brother than to hit back at the person who had killed him?

"You want revenge, don't you?"

Paulie nodded, unable to speak, but Stefano saw it. "Then, we need a plan." Stefano felt a sense of comfort spread through his body as if someone had thrown him a rope to save him.

He might be dying, but he would use Mia to settle his debts.