Tonia
"Assuredly but dust and shade we are,
Assuredly desire is blind and brief,
Assuredly it's hope but ends in death."
~Sonnet 'Soleasi nel mio cor star bella e viva' by Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)
Translation by Thomas William Higginson~
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.... the shadows lengthened, but it was not dark yet. Dante stared out of the coffee shop, all his thoughts on Tonia, who was absent from her shift. He had first met her three months ago and he had been hesitant to even acknowledge her presence, at that point he could not allow himself to be distracted, he was so close to pulling it off, even a tiny deviation would spell disaster. He had already given six years of his life to living a lie – a lie that saw him give up his education, his dreams and his very identity.
He had been twenty when his father was brutally murdered for refusing to pay the pizzo demanded by Russo clan. His father had not only refused but had gone ahead and complained to the police, going so far as to state his willingness to testify against the Mafioso. As expected, this had not gone well with the Russo clan, to set an example; his father had been tortured and then executed, a single bullet to the forehead. It was nearly impossible to infiltrate the organization; it had taken him two years of being a common criminal before being initiated.
The subsequent climb in the ranks had been no cinch either. There had been multiple tests for obedience, discretion, courage, ruthlessness and skill at espionage, with the ultimate trial being the requirement to commit murder. As he had risen in the ranks, there was a growing disquiet in him, which had left him wondering if bringing the Mafioso to its knees was worth the loss of his soul.
There were darkness gathering within which threatened to engulf him till Tonia entered his life.
Antonia, or Tonia as she was usually called was a twenty years old with the innocence of a chlild. She had hazel eyes, a smooth olive skin tone and a laugh that could lull his demons to sleep. And he reveled in her hair, long-flowing beautiful hair that filled that air with lavender, thyme, sage, and rosemary. She was the only person who could make his coffee just the way he liked it and she seemed to remember everything he told her from week to week. On several occasions, she even sat down next to him during her break, telling him about her life, her dreams and trying to get to know him more.
Despite his reluctance, he found himself falling for her. She was so open and naïve, she was totally in love with him, notwithstanding the fact that he was a part of the Mafisio. She was not comfortable with the idea and would gently ask if it was possible to start afresh. Love does make one foolish, he slipped up - he had told her two nights ago that he needed a couple of weeks before he could reveal the truth to her, asked her to trust him. He had just given her a tiny hint; anything more would have been dangerous to both.
For her part she did the predictable thing; she, as usual, relayed the whole conversation to her sister Silvia and their friend Luigi, the two people who truly irked him. Try as he might, he just could not bring himself to trust them. But Tonia trusted them implicitly, over him at times. He had met them a couple of times and Luigi had appeared familiar, there was something about Luigi that he could not put a finger on. When he found out, he was furious, "I asked you to trust me. You were supposed to keep this to yourself not go around blabbering it to all and sundry."
She was frightened and hurt by his reaction, and had run out of the coffee shop. That was two days ago, two days since he had seen or spoken to her.
He did not have much choice, his plans were already in motion and he could not afford to spend much time on Tonia at present. He walked out of the coffee shop, still slightly lost in his thoughts and crossed the street to his car. As he unlocked the door and sat in his car, his instincts seem to flare a small warning, though a fraction of a second too late. There was a small pop which went unheard in the street sounds. Dante sat in his car, eyes closed, a single bullet to his forehead, the only witness to the scene being the rising moon...
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