𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚

Death is imminent. It comes for us all, and when it does, it brings with it grief, hurling it at those that love us like a gust of heavy wind on our faces. I look at my dad, uncle Rom and Raph standing outside, waiting for us to join them so we can all attend the burial of a man who'd been their doctor when they decided the way out of poverty was in organized crime.

He was a good man, they said—a man with a sense of humour, non-judgemental, and one who understood loyalty.

I watch my dad light up another cigarette when I feel my mom's presence on my left. I know it's her because of her perfume, a subtle whiff of lilac flower laced with something fruity. I'm sure there are more ingredients to the fragrance, but I don't know much more.

"I feel so bad for them," she whispers in a melancholy tone. I wrap my arm around her, bringing her closer to my body, and she wraps hers around my waist, her tiny body fitting perfectly into my large one. "Me too," I reply, turning and kissing her hair.

I hear a scuffle behind us, and I know the others are ready. My mom and I turn, still wrapped around each other; I see aunt Sophie and Mia coming downstairs, holding hands, their faces pensive.

"Are we ready?" I run my eyes around everyone in the room, they nod, but I notice Alessa is missing.

"Where the hell is Alessa?" before I could get an answer, she came running downstairs, her right hand holding a small notebook. "Sorry." she muffles when she joins us.

We are all in black. The women have different style variations, but the men have standard black suits. Lia is wearing a half-sleeve dress with a standing collar, a flared bottom and a blazer. She looks classic but gorgeous; all of them do.

While we walk downstairs, I can't help but notice each of us is holding hands with another. I'm keeping my mother's, aunt Mia and Sophie's; Nic is holding Lia, Alessa is holding Sienna, while Zion has his tightly on Serena.

Once we join the patriarchs, they give us once over, as if they are looking at whether we are presentable enough. They don't speak, but they start walking toward the helipad. I feel my mom's hand tighten in mine. She is sad, not because doctor Charlie is dead even though they are acquainted, but because my father hasn't been the same since they heard of his death.

We get into the two helicopters. My mom sits between my dad and me, Alessa pulls Sienna with her, and Matteo sits on the pilot seats; the others will fly on the other one, which uncle Rom will fly. Although Lia and I haven't made love since yesterday, we spent the night together—in each other's arms, breathing the same air, her body wrapped tightly into mine. There is something beautiful about sleeping on the same bed with your person, hearing them breathe next to you, whispering to each other, and making you feel as if the night belongs only to the both of you. Lia has a way of making me feel intensely loved. The way she touches me, her fingers caressing the corners of my mouth, kissing the tip of my neck, or the way she combs her fingers through my hair like she never wants to stop touching me.

I think I will love once. My father once told me some of us are meant to love one woman for the rest of our lives. It's a blessing and a curse, he said, his eyes with a faraway look. He had looked happy and then gloomy in a span of seconds. That memory shakes me a little because it was when I got my first girlfriend, eighteen years old Maria—two years older than me, though I lied and told her we were the same age.

I listened intently, shook my head to mean I wasn't in love with Maria. He had grinned and said he knew.

"I know." he had said, amused somewhat.

He knows, I thought.

He knows, I said inwardly, over and over until it dawned on me, surprised and horrified. My father knew I was in love with Lia then. And if he knew, the other two knew as well.

Does that mean my mom knew? Slowly, I move my eyes downwards to look at her; her eyes are closed, and her head is gently pressed on my father's arm as if she wanted him to know she was there in case grief became unbearable.

We landed on the Tripple B wines headquarters helipad. It was one of the largest wine companies in the world with gross annual sales of almost twenty billion.

The patriarchs led the way with uncle Raph in the middle. They still had not said a word. Climbing down from the roof to the twenty-fourth floor where we would enter the elevator, they stood just in front, their faces upwards waiting for it to open.

On the left where uncle Rom stood, one slid open, and they turned to look at us. "Get in," he said to no one in particular, I pulled Sienna with me, and she came willingly, Matteo followed, because where I go, he goes, Lia and Dev were next and then uncle Rom pulled aunt Mia with him and he clicked fifth floor. The others would come with the private elevator which was for the president of the company and other higher executives.

When our door slides open on the fifth floor, we find employees standing around waiting, their chit-chat coming to an abrupt halt when they saw us. They stared, their eyes widening, shock and awe flushing on their faces. There was a reason that I only land on this helipad at night, and that is to avoid such running in with employees. I know they've heard rumours about my connection with the company, a certain gossip magazine loves nothing more than trying to speculate about my wealthy family.

"Now I know why they tell us to travel at night," Sienna whispers to me. We start to move and some of them look like their feet are stuck on the floor, openly gawking, some whispering under their breath, perhaps speculating on what it meant for them, we rarely came during the day, the patriarchs only came to during the end of each financial year. I could tell some of them recognized me, they waved, giggle, and slightly bowed, "good luck at the Abu Dhabi grand prix." one shouted in a weak, careful voice, I waved  back, smiling regrettably when I saw Matteo and Dev stopped them from taking my photo because it would also expose the other members of my family, nonetheless, I said thank you.

"This is why the truther hated you," Sienna mutters, beside me, her hand still in mine.

Confused, I whisper "why?"

"Your security stopping them from taking a photo of you. Maybe they think you're a little prima donna." she finished in an amused tone.

"Prima donna?"

"Hmm, a diva." she clarified.

"How does that make me a diva?" we were speaking in hush tones, Sienna's hand had moved to my arm, clinging to it as if she needed strength, perhaps she did because her eyes looked glassy, a little swollen and a bit red like she had been crying.

She twitches her lips, but she doesn't say anything.

Uncle Rom straightens up his shoulders, looked around, his eyes resting on each person standing in our way, but he doesn't say anything. Suddenly, as if frightened, they move for us, jumping on both sides, but before we could proceed, the other elevator slides open. They gasp, when more of us come out. I'm sure there will be speculations especially since we were all in black.

"We need to move if we are to keep time," uncle Rom says. He starts to walk on the corridor on our right, I'm not sure where we are headed but I do know it's for briefing. I knew this because every time we've been in public, the patriarchs made sure to brief us on the dangers ahead. Other than shopping, games, races, movies and other small events, like Sunday morning service while the whole family is in Italy, nothing like what we were about to do has ever been done—at least not with us around.

When we enter the room, it's full of men in black, leaning against the wall. It's a boardroom.

Uncle Raph stands by the table scanning each of their faces, maybe looking for a strange face. Once he is done, he sighs, exhales softly, his hands at his back.

"Luc, today you sit in your rightful place." I dont ask which, I know. I gently drop Sienna's hand and walk to the foot of the table while uncle Raph sits at the head. I sit after he does, I'm following protocol, and I hear my mom gasp, I peer at her and I can see her eyes shimmer with tears, her hand covering her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. It's hard for her, I understood. She is witnessing her child take a place to be the next Mafia don.

Once we are seated, the others do with uncle Rom on the boss's right and my father on his left. The others fill the seats with no strategic positioning. However, the guys whom I assume are security remain as they were.

It takes almost a minute before the Don says a thing. There is silence in the room, it's too loud. Its telling.

I gaze around at our moms, they look sad, forlorn, helpless, scared.

The three of them have their eyes downcast, grasping their hands on their lap, I know they're trying hard not to burst out opinions of their disapproval. But they do not.

They know this is not the place, and the patriarchs look inscrutable. Their faces are hard to read—impassive and dare I say unapproachable.

"Good morning," uncle Raph greets the security. They respond in kind, they bow, not a bob, or a little bend of their heads, but a full-on bow—a deed obeisance that took about thirty seconds.

"This is the first time our whole family will be in public." he says, " I know you know what that means." They nod, saying yes, their deep varying yet powerful tones filling the room.

I have never seen any of them before, but I knew some of them were my bodyguards, those that are hidden, our shadows, the ones that report everything I do that I shouldn't be doing, like accepting a private party invitation from an infamous Italian politician. I had accused Matteo of ratting me out at the time, he had sworn he had not, I had not believed him until my father came to Italy unannounced. Needless to say, neither Matteo nor I have done something as stupid since then.

"Packages." uncle Raph urgently says.

Instantly, the security gets off the wall, putting two boxes on the table.

The patriarchs stand, and so do we, but our moms stay seated as if they have no strength to move, they're shocked, terrified, and I think what frightens them the most is witnessing their children get pulled into a legacy they knew about but choose to ignore for the time being, thinking perhaps things might change.

It's like they are looking in from the outside. They're losing their children to a world they can never be a part of—a world where death is one wrong move away.

The boxes are opened. Black medium bags are deposited beside the boxes and then pushed among us. Guns. I knew what the boxes contained the moment they were placed on the table.

Our mothers collectively gasp, choking in cries, but not saying a word.

There was nothing they could do. We were past ten years, they agreed to the terms, and this was one event. Also, there was a little too much noise from the click-cluck of guns being assembled. I steal a look around the room, Nic is inspecting him like a professional, a small scowl on his forehead as he loaded some bullets. I notice his mother staring at him as well, a sad look marring her beautiful face. As if he could feel her eyes on him, Nic turns his face towards her and smiles, a tiny reassuring smile.

When we finish, uncle Raph asks whether we are all ready.

We say yes.

"Stay in pairs. You'll have enough security."

"If you feel threatened, don't think about it. Shoot instead"

"We expect to have a crowd, some of them sent to spy on us. Be careful. If anyone approaches and says something like—if you want your mother to live, come with me. Don't. Your mothers will be safe, and so will we.

This is not a drill like we've had over the years. This is real. It's happening today. Be cautious, alert, confident, and brave. Do you understand?"

We nod.

"Good. Because this is your beginning."