3. Marcello

Marcello

PRESENT DAY

A s I stand in front of the imposing Lastra mansion, memories flood back to me with a force that takes my breath away. The grandeur and opulence of the building only serve to amplify my feelings of discomfort and unease.

This was a place I never thought I would have to return to—not after finally escaping this life for good. But as always, fate has a way of pulling us back into the places we thought we had left behind.

It's been a week since my brother's sudden death, and I still can't fully process it. Despite our lack of closeness, his passing has hit me harder than expected. He may have caused me pain and suffering in the past, but in the end, he did me the greatest favor by helping me escape this world. And for that, he earned my loyalty and respect.

It's a strange feeling to mourn someone who was both a source of torment and salvation.

But now, I am faced with the consequences of my actions. My best friend is in the hospital, and I only have myself to blame for it.

Guilt gnaws at me as I think about him lying on a hospital bed, fighting for his life. His wife, Bianca, has forbidden me from visiting him—and rightly so. I deserve her wrath, and his absence only serves as a constant reminder of what I have done.

I take off my coat, already sweating under the weight of guilt and anxiety, and nod at two bodyguards before approaching the doorbell. An older woman answers the door and gives me a quizzical look—of course she wouldn't recognize me. It's been too many years, too many lies and secrets built up between us all.

"I am Marcello," I introduce myself, watching the woman's face light up with a smile.

"Signor! Venezia will be overjoyed to hear that you have finally arrived."

"Finally?" I question, curiosity piqued.

"Yes, Signor Valentino had informed us of your impending return. It is such a shame he passed away. May he rest in peace." The woman makes the sign of the cross with her hands as she speaks.

"Please, come inside," she gestures for me to enter the grand hall. As I step inside, I am hit with a wave of familiar scents and sights. Memories flood my mind, unbidden. The screams... The pain...

"What is your name?" I ask the woman, trying to push away the unwelcome thoughts.

"Amelia, signor," she replies politely.

"Amelia..." Her name triggers a memory within me. "That Amelia?"

"Si, signor. Your brother rehired me after you had left," she confirms, and I feel a small sense of relief wash over me.

A soft voice, laced with uncertainty and longing, drifts down from the top of the grand staircase. As I lift my head to meet the gaze of the speaker, my heart tightens in recognition.

It's a young woman, her delicate frame clad in a flowing blue dress that brushes lightly against the stairs as she descends. Her mahogany curls cascade down her shoulders in perfect ringlets, framing a heart-shaped face with strong cheekbones and slanted hazel eyes.

She looks just like her mother.

"You must be Venezia." I manage to relax my features into a pleasant smile, not wanting to frighten the girl away with my own troubled expression. She nods shyly before taking a few hesitant steps toward me and Amelia, who hovers protectively at my side.

"Signorina." Amelia greets her with warmth and affection, clearly showing a close relationship between them.

"You've grown so much," I remark, trying to find common ground with this girl who once seemed like a mere child to me. "Last time I saw you, you were only about this tall." With a gentle gesture of my hand, I indicate that she had only reached my thigh when we last met...when she was just five years old.

"One does that in ten years," she says, but immediately lowers her gaze as she realizes her tone.

"Signorina!" Amelia's outraged voice chides.

"I know I've been gone a long while. But now I'm here. And I'll do my duty for this family."

"Really?" Venezia snaps at me, her eyes narrowing. "Like you did with my sister? Tell me, will you send me away too?"

"Signorina Venezia, your brother meant well," Amelia tries to interject, but Venezia does not stop.

"He meant well when he called her a Devil's child and gave her away to a convent?" Her voice is full of malice as she emphasizes Devil's child. I have to briefly close my eyes at her accusation. How does she even know? Venezia's tirade continues, and I know I have to do something about it.

"Enough!" My booming voice reverberates through the room, causing both women to shrink back in surprise. Their eyes widen as they stare at me, caught off guard by my sudden outburst.

"Last time I checked, you were under my guardianship, Venezia. And now that I am the head of this family, you will do well to respect my authority."

Venezia's face pales as she realizes the weight of my words. She opens her mouth to protest, but I continue speaking before she can.

"You're right. I did send your sister away. And it would be quite easy for me to do the same to you," I say with a calm demeanor, although inside I am seething with anger and frustration.

I watch as Venezia's features contort with fear and rage. "How much easier everything would be if I didn't have to worry about you," I muse aloud, almost taunting her.

Panicked, Venezia stumbles over her words in an attempt to defend herself.

"But...you can't do that!" she exclaims, taking a step closer to me.

"Oh, but I can," I reply coolly, enjoying the control I hold over her.

"It's up to you, really," I state matter-of-factly. "You can either behave and we can all get along, or..." I trail off suggestively.

Venezia looks at me with defiance in her eyes for a brief moment before finally admitting defeat.

"Yes," she mutters grudgingly.

"Yes what, Venezia?" I prompt sternly.

"Yes, sir," she adds meekly before turning and running up the grand staircase in a huff.

Turning to Amelia, who has been watching our interaction silently, I expect to see fear or submission in her eyes like Venezia's. But instead, there is only disappointment as she looks at me.

"I thought you were different, Sir," she says, her tone laced with disappointment and disapproval before turning and following Venezia up the stairs.

Left alone in the grand hall, I let out a heavy sigh. Was this truly who I had become? A tyrant who used fear to control those around him?

No... I had thought I was different too...

Until I wasn't.

The house is still as I remember it... And that's the problem.

I enter the guest room on the ground floor, my small luggage in tow. It's a modest space, but it will have to do for now. I've never been one to accumulate many possessions.

It's become a habit since the day I ran away from home. As I unpack my few belongings—some shirts and pants, and a small bag of toiletries—I can't help but feel a familiar urge to flee.

But I push it down, reminding myself of why I'm here. This isn't just for me anymore. It's for my sisters. Tino's death has left a dangerous power vacuum, and my sisters could easily become pawns in any potential takeover. Especially with Venezia being so young and Assisi still a novice in the convent, their safety is my top priority.

And then there's Vlad's proposal... the thought alone sends shivers down my spine. But for now, I must focus on securing my sisters' future above all else.

Despite my dread, there are tasks that must be completed. As much as I despise the role thrust upon me, I cannot deny its necessity for the resources it provides. To jumpstart the succession plans, I have met with Tino's lawyers and accountants.

They have provided me with a plethora of documents to sift through and analyze. Along with these materials, I have been given a comprehensive list of all the people who were previously under Tino's command.

Being the Capo doesn't just entail taking charge of the business side of our famiglia. It also means gaining the respect and loyalty of those within our ranks. My profession as a lawyer has prepared me for the legal aspects of running a business, though my focus has mainly been on criminal law.

However, my experience with the corporate side should prove useful in this new role. Yet, it is not my knowledge that concerns me most. It is the weight of earning the trust and acceptance of my new family members that weighs heavily on my mind.

Tino, may he rest in peace, had taken care of everything before his untimely passing. He knew his end was near and meticulously planned for every possible outcome. His succession order has enough loopholes to ensure that I am the most viable option to take over as capo. But that does not mean there won't be opposition from within.

A formal meeting must be held within the famiglia where I will officially introduce myself as their new leader and hope they accept me as such. Though Tino saw to it that all preparations were made, there is no guarantee that everyone will welcome me with open arms.

As I pore over the intricate list of names involved with the infamous famiglia, my eyes immediately land on my uncle Nicolo's name, listed as the Consigliere. He may not have been the ruthless monster that my father was, but he was far from being an angel. I couldn't let my guard down around him.

Lost in thought, I am abruptly pulled back to reality by a sharp knock at the door. With a hesitant creak, it opens slowly and Amelia peeks her head inside. She hesitates for a moment before making eye contact with me, silently asking for permission to enter. I give a small nod and she enters, her hands nervously fidgeting in front of her.

"Signor," she starts, keeping her gaze downcast. "I wanted to apologize for Signorina Venezia's behavior earlier. She is young and headstrong, and has never had proper guidance before."

I can already see the judgment in her eyes, no doubt assuming that I am just like my father. As much as I want to prove her wrong, I know that there are always ears listening in this house. I must maintain a strong facade, even if it means being seen as a cruel and self-serving man. Though my motives may not be entirely selfish, they certainly aren't pure either.

"Yes, go on," I say sternly.

"I... please forgive her impertinence towards your absence. She did not mean it with malice."

"I understand that she may have her own opinions about my absence. However, that does not excuse her tone and lack of manners. Who has been responsible for her education?"

"That's the thing, Signor... no one," Amelia replies somberly.

A deep frown creases my brow, my confusion growing with each word from Amelia's mouth.

"What do you mean, no one?" I ask, my tone sharp with disbelief.

Amelia fidgets nervously, as if she's trying to reveal a secret but can't decide if she should. "Signor Valentino was never the same after Signora Romina died," she finally admits, her voice hushed with sadness. "He closed himself off, and left Signorina Venezia on her own."

"That was eight years ago," I interject, my mind reeling at this new information. "You mean to tell me that no one has taken care of her since then?"

Amelia looks away, her disapproval of Venezia's treatment evident in her expression.

"Yes, that is correct," she confirms reluctantly. "I've tried to take her under my wing, teach her some things... but Signor Valentino did not like her getting too close with the staff. There was only so much I could do."

My brows furrow as I try to process this revelation. So Venezia has been essentially alone all this time? No wonder she acted out and sought attention in any way she could get it. And it explains why she was so upset by my absence; in her eyes, I had abandoned her just like everyone else.

I purse my lips in thought, feeling a pang of sympathy for the young girl who never had someone to guide her and show her how to behave properly.

"Thank you for your information. I will see that she receives a proper education from now on."

Amelia looks as if she's about to add something, but then she just nods and exits the room.

As I unpack my bags, my mind swirls with concerns. Venezia going to school on her own feels too risky, and I can't shake off the anxiety. Perhaps I can arrange for her to be homeschooled. But there is the matter of finding the right person for the job...

I decide to take a drive, hoping the change of scenery will help calm my nerves. But just a few miles away from home, my phone starts ringing. Instinct tells me to ignore it, but when I see the caller ID displaying Vlad's name, I pull over and answer.

"Vlad," I say, trying to mask my curiosity.

"Marcello," he replies in a serious tone. "I thought you should know about a sudden development."

My heart sinks as I wait for him to continue.

"All entry routes through NJ have been shut down."

"All of them?"

"Including mine." The anger seeping through his words is palpable. This news does not bode well. I hope no one is near him.

"I assume ours are affected as well then." My family has a long-standing partnership with the Russian mafia based in Brighton Beach. My father was close friends with their former Pakhan. And our businesses mainly involve drugs—the same trade the Russians are known for.

"Yes." Vlad's answer is clipped.

"The Irish?"

"Unconfirmed. Maybe." That is unusual. Vlad is in the loop about everything. Either he truly does not know, or he doesn't want me to know.

"If not them, then who?" I inquire.

"Cartels. Jimenez's death created a power vacuum. There are too many factions fighting for power. It's hard to pinpoint which one did this." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "But I will find out. And you will help."

" I will help?" I ask, almost amused. But I already know what he's going to say.

"This will be the perfect opportunity for you to prove yourself to the famiglia. Clear the way for the merchandise, win their favor. Simple."

"So simple," I repeat mockingly. Vlad chuckles.

"Come on, it will be like old times," he adds with a little too much enthusiasm. That much is true. I'd run away while Vlad had succumbed.

"It was worth a try." He pauses and changes the subject. "How's the famiglia treating you so far?"

"I have yet to meet most of them. But there was no homecoming party."

"Did you expect one?"

"No," I add drily. Sobering, I ask something that's been nagging at me for a while, "How safe is Sacre Coeur?"

"Safe enough. For now. Are you thinking of taking your sister home?"

"If that's what she wants... but I highly doubt it."

"Don't worry about that. She's not the only principessa hiding there."

I grunt and hang up. I have a visit scheduled with Assisi tomorrow to inform her of Tino's death. Although I doubt she'll want anything to do with me.

I sigh. I don't think I can ever make amends for everyone I've hurt.

Sacre Coeur is up north, half an hour off Albany, in a remote area.

I maneuver my car off the road and scan the area for a parking spot. This place is not meant to accommodate casual visitors, so there are no designated parking spots in sight. After ensuring that my car won't get towed, I exit the vehicle and make my way towards the main gate.

The first thing that strikes me about Sacre Coeur is its sheer size. It looms over me like a fortress, its Gothic architecture radiating an unwelcoming aura. The similarities to the Met Cloisters are uncanny, except this structure is magnified in both scale and foreboding presence. A towering two-meter concrete wall surrounds the convent, separating it from the outside world.

Every inch of the perimeter is covered with CCTV cameras, and guards are stationed at every entry point. If I didn't know better, I'd mistake this for a maximum-security prison. Even barbed wire lines the top of the walls, adding an extra layer of protection. Vlad had mentioned that security was tight here, but now I understand why. What could have prompted such high levels of precaution? Surely a group of nuns wouldn't be trying to escape...

As I approach the main entrance, the guards demand to see my ID and cross-check it against their list of approved individuals. Once satisfied with my identity, they instruct me to remove my shoes and pass through a metal detector.

It's all a bit excessive for a religious institution. I can't imagine what would happen if there were any physical pat-downs involved—things could go south quickly. Thankfully, the inspection ends there and I am allowed to proceed inside.

As I enter the convent, I am met with an imposing presence. An older woman, dressed in the traditional black and white robes of a Mother Superior, stands before me with a stern expression.

Her mouth is pinched tightly at the corners, etching a scowl onto her face. I bow my head respectfully.

"Mother Superior," I greet her.

She acknowledges me with a nod before speaking again. "Mr. Lastra. I understand you are here to see Sister Assisi."

"Yes, that is correct," I confirm, but she continues talking as if I didn't answer.

"Sister Assisi is a kind and charitable soul. She will be taking her vows next year, on a path of light. I hope your visit will not disrupt that."

"I assure you, Mother Superior, my visit is only to convey some news. It will not interfere with Sister Assisi's ceremony."

"Very well," she responds, eyeing me suspiciously.

Together, we pass through a narrow passage lined with low pointed arches until we reach an open clearing. Lush green spaces surround us, and nuns clad in their signature attire wander about, deeply engrossed in conversation.

In the center of the clearing stands a square stone outline filled with rows of meticulously tended flowers. And at its heart, a replica statue of Michelangelo's Pietà gleams in bronze. I am taken aback by the peacefulness of this place, almost in awe as Mother Superior motions for me to take a seat on the stone outline.

"I will fetch Sister Assisi for you now. Please wait here," she instructs before departing with purposeful strides.

In the distance, a small figure catches my eye. She's dressed in a drab gray uniform dress, her hair neatly tucked under a white headdress. But as she draws closer, her eyes captivate me. They are a brilliant, emerald green that seem to shimmer in the sun. For a moment, I am taken aback by their intensity and the striking resemblance they bear to another pair of green eyes from my past.

Lost in my memories, I barely have time to react before she stands directly in front of me, regarding me with curious eyes.

"Who are you?" Her voice is filled with childlike wonder, as if I am some sort of exotic creature.

"I'm Marcello." I offer her a half-smile, and she returns it with enthusiasm.

"I'm Claudia," she declares proudly. Just then, a sharp voice echoes through the courtyard, calling out her name.

"Oh no!" she whispers urgently, waving goodbye before rushing off towards the sound.

As I watch her disappear into the bustling crowd, I can't help but wonder if my sister Assisi was ever like that. Carefree and playful in the courtyard of our childhood home. And although parting ways with her was difficult, I can't help but feel that giving her away was better than the alternative.

As I sit on the stone bench, Mother Superior approaches me with a young girl in tow. The girl's face bears a red mark above her right eyebrow, revealing her identity before she even speaks.

"Mr. Lastra, Sister Assisi. You have one hour," Mother Superior's stern voice echoes through the quiet courtyard as she departs.

Assisi and I gaze at each other, both of us unsure of what to say or do. Her eyes scan over my form, and I notice her jaw trembling with emotion.

"Marcello?" She finally manages to speak, but my throat constricts and no words come out.

"Assisi," I eventually reply, my own voice barely audible.

"It's really you." Her tone is filled with awe and disbelief. I can see the thoughts running through her mind as she takes hesitant steps towards me. My hand instinctively reaches up to create some space between us.

Her expression falls at the rejection, but she forces a sad smile onto her lips. I feel compelled to explain myself.

"It's not that I don't want to... I just can't," I mutter, unable to elaborate further. But Assisi seems to understand without any further explanation. She looks at me with understanding and gestures towards the stone bench I had been sitting on just moments ago.

Taking a seat next to me, Assisi leaves just enough space between us. Her face lights up with surprise and joy as she recognizes me.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," she exclaims, her voice bright and warm.

"And I didn't think you'd remember me."

"Of course I do. You're my brother." Her expression is full of forgiveness and love.

"I'm sorry," I add, feeling the weight of my past mistakes.

"Why are you here?"

"Valentino is dead." A gasp escapes Assisi's lips and her hand flies to cover her mouth.

"Dead?" she repeats in shock, her eyes wide.

"Yes... suicide." The word hangs heavy in the air, like a dark storm cloud.

"Suicide?" Assisi whispers, her tone laced with horror. For Catholics, it is perhaps the worst way to die.

"He was diagnosed with a degenerative disorder. He was already dying... slowly."

Tears well up in the corners of her eyes and she uses a piece of fabric from her headdress to gently wipe them away.

"I had no idea... He visited a few times but never mentioned it."

"I don't think he wanted to burden you."

"Maybe. How is Venezia?"

"She's... coping. She'll be okay. Maybe I'll even bring her to visit sometime." As soon as the words leave my mouth, Assisi's entire demeanor changes.

"Really? You would do that?" There is wonder and hope in her voice, and I can't help but nod.

"It would mean so much. Thank you!" She leans forward as if to hug me, but pulls back at the last second and instead gives me a bright smile.

Despite the mark on her face, Assisi radiates such warmth and beauty that any imperfection melts away in comparison.

For the first time, I think I made at least one right decision in sending her to Sacre Coeur.

We talk a little more, and I tell her about my career as a lawyer and how I've been away from the family. She tells me about her mother figure and best friend, and how she is really happy where she is.

The more I talk to her, the more I realize that she has no idea what our family does for a living. Mother Superior knows, going by the way she received me. But Assisi has no clue. And that makes me entirely too happy.

Mother Superior interrupts us, telling us that our time is over, and we say goodbye.

"I'll come again," I promise, but I can see in her eyes she doesn't believe me, even if she nods in agreement.

"God Bless you!" She comes over to me, still keeping some distance, and does the sign of the cross with her hands over my body.

"Thank you, Assisi."

" Sister Assisi has other duties," Mother Superior interjects, leading her away.

With one last glance, I leave.