𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞.
~𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐰~

𝐋𝐢𝐚

"Are you scared?"

I hear Luca ask me, but my brain and mouth are worlds apart. I can't seem to find my voice fast enough to reply.

I'm lost in the past to the first time my father handed a toy gun to Luca and me to shoot each other. We thought it was a game, yet somehow we couldn't bring ourselves to hit each other. Then there was the first time we held a real gun.

We were nine years and eight months in a shooting range underneath this same house. It's crazy that I was brought up to inherit a violent world but somehow ended up wanting to be part of Hollywood. A fantasy world where I could be anything and anyone —a character to entertain the masses.

"Are you scared?" Luca asks again. And although I still can't find my voice, I shake my head. It's the truth. I'm not scared. I'm curious, anxious but not frightened.

My past might feel like a fantasy or horror movie if I narrate some of the things I remember, like the first time Luca and I found out what our fathers did for a living or the first time we saw a dead body. I still don't know whether it was a mistake on their part or by design; they wanted us to see it. The latter is plausible if you consider they never make mistakes. Every move is calculated, every plan has plan b or c. It's their way of life, the same life that awaits us.

***************

Luca sneaks out of my room before five in the morning after making love with me. It's the same, if not more beautiful. Neither of us is worried or concerned about the impending meeting, perhaps because the patriarchs will be there with us as we venture into the world we were both born into.

My father is the head of our family. It's an interesting story how they decided on him. Uncle Bruno said he couldn't be the head because he is too lazy and has no sense of democracy; uncle Rom claims he has limited patience for whining, overgrown greedy ass men, while my father is the opposite. He is democratic unless provoked, and he is patient, but he also has no time for disloyalty. However, the three are similar in that they are all beasts, lethal, brutal, and unforgiving.

I'm not sure what a woman wears for such a meeting. I would have asked my mother, but she wasn't part of this world, and neither would I tell her. This wasn't her heritage; it was her children's, plus I didn't want her to worry, just as I knew Luc wouldn't tell his mom.

I wore red kneel-length boots, a deep red blouse paired with a crimson-colored leather skirt, and a fitting blazer of the same colour. Looking at the mirror, my image felt unreal—I felt unreal—fire and blood, I thought as I plucked my red-painted lips while blushing my flame-looking hair through my fingers.

Once I was done, I left my bedroom with only my phone in hand.

"Lia," I heard my mom calling when I passed the kitchen.

"Yeah," I said, turning back. She moved from the oven, her hair, so much like mine, tied in a ponytail, her worried gaze on my face.

I smiled, making sure my eyes reflected the same. I would never want her to be worried about me or any of us.

"Where are you going?"

"To the office with dad and uncles," I mumbled, brushing off a streak of flour from the tip of her nose.

"What about?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, giving the impression it wasn't a big deal.

"Your father hasn't told me anything." she was grilling me. While I consider myself a good liar, there was a way my mom looked at me that got me fidgeting, especially when I was lying.

"What have I not told you, cara?" I silently released a sigh of relief when I heard my father's voice. I stepped back to allow him room to stand near his wife.

I watched him wrap one of his arms around her tiny waist. She was so small compared to his large form. She giggled when he brushed his lips across her neck.

"No, Raphael. Could you stop trying to distract me? Where is Lia going?"

He pulled out of her arms, "to the office with Luc and us." he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"They're not in danger, are they?" I could hear the uncertainty, the worry in her voice.

"No. Just a meeting, cara." my father added, kissing her forehead before taking my hand.

"See you later, mom," she nodded, giving me a slight smile.

I liked my hand in my father's. His large rough holding my smooth one securely as he has done since I was young.

"You're not afraid, are you?"

I mulled over that question for a fraction of a minute wondering whether telling him the truth was the right thing. It was. He was my father, who else would I tell the truth to?

"Not really afraid, but worried." I managed, giving him a slight squeeze as if he was the one that needed reassurance.

"About what?"

I let out an awkward laugh. I did that a lot when I was unsure and in an uncomfortable situation.

"That I would be in a company of mobsters."

My father laughed—a guffaw that must have reached everyone near our house.

"Don't be. I'll be there," he told me, this time squeezing my hand.

"How is my ensemble?"

Giving me a once over, he mumbled, "you'll do."

We walked the rest of the distance in silence, albeit for different reasons. I knew as worried as I was, he must have been too, considering this was the first official and nonofficial meeting for Luc and me. To him and uncle Bruno, this must have been hard.

We stood outside the garage where the other three stood. My father still held my hand as if he didn't want to let go. It was endearing, but another thought crossed my mind, perhaps in his mind; after this, I would no longer be his little girl; I would be a woman whose place in his world would have been cemented.

Biting my lip nervously, I looked at Luc talking on the phone with one hand in his pocket, smiling at whatever the other person was saying, or so I assumed. Surprisingly, I wasn't jealous. I understood that there is a part of Luc that belongs to me and no one else. Also, this wasn't the place for the green monster.

Suddenly, he turned, acknowledging me with a wink; I sent him a wave, admiring his dark blue suit. He was a beautiful man, which was understandable since his parents were good-looking. Not that I was putting my parents down, my father, especially, was a handsome man. My mother once told me she couldn't believe he wanted her when they met.

Are we ready?" Uncle Rom asked. The question was for Luc and I since they were already used to these meetings.

"I am," I said with conviction.

"Good. Come on." The three started walking to the other side of our house—the one that housed visitors. I didn't follow them immediately; I waited a little until Luc caught up with me; he did, nudging me to the front with his elbow.

We followed the patriarchs in silence for a minute or so until Luc broke it, "you look beautiful."

"In blood red?"

He smacked his lips, and I knew what he was thinking about.

"Behave." I laughed "this is not the time." I added, nursing a joyous feeling of being wanted.

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

He threw me a tiny smile, a mischievous glance right before we both entered the room where they led us—a room so far inside the house a visitor would get lost, not that they would ever have a chance to see the inside. Honestly, I doubt our mothers have ever see this. It was my first time inside.

I heard Luca grasp, walking past me to stand beside Matteo, seated in one of the seats next to Dev and others controlling almost ten monitors in the room.

"Is that live?" I asked, pointing at one.

"Yes," Dev said with a proud smile. "Who the hell is that?" He was a tall young rotund man with brown hair in grey slacks sitting on what looked like a college bench.

"His name is Christiano Romigi; he is the grandson of Don Romigi." uncle Rom said, perched on one side of the table where Dev sat. "His favorite grandson, named him himself," he added.

"Why are we looking at him?" Luca asked, beating me to the same question.

"Because if Romigi tries anything during this meeting, we take his grandson out."

I should have been surprised or shocked when my father said that, so matter of fact, as if human life was the same as the mosquitoes I killed when I walked through our beautiful scenic forest. I was not.

Matteo clicked next to reveal another guy. This one was tall, lean with dark hair and brown eyes. He was masculine, handsome in a baseball cap, black jeans, and white and black flannel shirt.

"Cute." I said.

Luca snorted, but I noticed the patriarchs threw me incredulous looks. "Well, don't get attached." my father chipped in.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Who is he?"

"He is Angelo Moretti. Named after his father."

"I'm guessing we are following him for the same reason as Christiano."

My father nodded.

"Do we know where he is headed?" he was pumping gas, his foot kicking one of the tires almost in chagrin.

"Yes. He is having a not so secret rendezvous with a married woman. They meet on Sundays afternoon until around five in the evening." one of the guys said with a smirk giving the impression he was enjoying it. I couldn't blame him; it was interesting.

"Aren't Sundays for families?" Luca asked. I don't know where he got that from, considering Sundays were like any other day for us unless we were in Italy, in which case we had to visit with father Josè.

"Not for her. She is a military wife."

"Meaning the husband is not around?"

"Yes. "

"Does she have children?"

"Three," Matteo answered, bringing the three boys onto the screen.

"Please tell me she won't be collateral damage no matter what?" I pleaded, moving my eyes to my father.

"She is not part of the war. We leave her out of it unless the gods decide otherwise." my father mumbled calmly.

"What does that mean?" I was worried really worried for this woman and her three young sons.

"It means a stray bullet might catch her."

"Why can't we wait for him to leave?"

"That's the plan. But not all plans are executed flawlessly." uncle Rom gave me an empathetic look. He knew how I was feeling, but my father was right; emotions overcrowd judgment.

The third was a young woman, my age. She was blond, slender, with striking amber eyes.

Luca hooted, adding hot in a whisper. We all heard, and it was great to find he got the same look from the three as I did when I said Angelo was cute.

We spent an hour and a half watching live images of those targeted to take the fall if any of their kin raised the wrong finger. But who's to say they didn't have the same guns pointed at the members of our family?

"What if they are doing the same with Zion or Serena?" I asked with panic.

Uncle Bruno checked his watch. "They should be here by now."

"Who?"

No way was the meeting taking place on these holy grounds they called our home.

"Serena and Zion."

"They are coming?" I smiled at that piece of news, relief spreading through my being, knowing they would be safe.

"Not to the meeting. They still have two years or so."

I nodded. I didn't mind. I had Luca with me. I will always have him by my side.

By the end of the meeting, I knew all the ten men present in that meeting as well as some of their progeny.

I got two guns, one strapped in a holster Dev gave me, the other concealed in a garter holster. If I weren't living this life, I would have sworn I was in a movie.

"Lia, you're with me. " uncle Bruno said, motioning me with his hand. I sat beside him on the passager's side of a black Bulletproof SUV.

Uncle Rom drove the other car with Luc at the front while my father sat at the back. He was the don, and Luc was his successor.

The others followed us in two other cars.

****************