Trust me, Annie.
It’s a good plan, Annie.
I want to trust him, really I do. He’s my one and only brother, but fifty thousand dollars and Irish gangsters make me less trusting.
“Tell me what the plan is, Johnny?”
Rob’s eyes lit up like a lightbulb had gone off. “We could use you.” he states. “We need a driver?”
Johnny scoffs, “She drives like a granny.”
“Hey,” I shout defensively. “I do not.”
They aren’t completely wrong though. I do like to go the speed limit and not get in trouble.
Unlike my family, I’m not a daredevil.
Why risk it?
They both laugh with easy smiles spread on their faces.
“Okay banana. We need a driver for when we get the money. You in?”
There is a huge lump forming in my throat.
A driver?
A getaway driver.
This doesn’t sound like a good idea.
“It’s a solid plan.” Rob adds. “In and out job, we get the money and go. No one is even going to know.” he smiles reassuringly. “Plus, the people we’re taking it from are awful. Puppy killers.”
I know better than this, really I do.
“Also,” Johnny added. “I really fucking need the money.”
I’m not a bad person.
Is it wrong if the people you were stealing from are bad people?
I’m surrounded by men who are cheering and happy.
They think we’ve won, but honestly, nothing about the state of this city makes me feel like celebrating.
There are no winners here, just a lot of death.
Grief is a funny thing, I think. It’s all-consuming. Wrapping its sharp claws around you until you can’t breathe and everything feels far away.
Grief is the only thing I’ve felt since her death.
Everything feels harder. Words feel far away, nothing feels good or sacred. Everything is wrong without her here.
The only relief is that first moment when I wake up in the morning before I remember that my mother was murdered.
I guess grief hits us all differently. My sister, Gemma, is spiraling. Even I can’t reel her in. She sleeps all day and then is out all night doing god-knows-what. My father hasn’t left his study in weeks. My brother, Gian, is the only one of us imitating any semblance of normalcy. He’s on a power trip, not that I can blame him.
We all want revenge.
I swirl the glass of amber liquid in front of me. Whiskey. I think I’ll find revenge at the bottom of another glass.
My family is reeling and so is la Famiglia.
We were told not to get revenge. Not for my mother, not for our boss, our underboss, and both of their sons who are all dead now.
A New York boss made a deal with their murderers to save his fiance's life, and now we all have to abide by it. Even if it means revenge is off the table.
So I take another chug of my whiskey.
Like I said, I’m hoping I find revenge at the bottom of this glass.
If I don’t, I hope death finds me first.
I feel like I’m taking shit from all angles, my brother on the other hand is using this to his advantage. He’s vying for the boss's seat.
Gian walks into the bar. He looks impeccable, honestly he’s a better made man than I am.
When he texted me that we were having a meet at our bar, The Alibi, tonight I had been laying in bed being miserable as usual. I rolled out and dressed in dark jeans, a gray t-shirt, and my favorite leather jacket. I have some leeway considering we don’t have a boss and my mom’s dead, but under normal circumstances I should have been wearing a suit.
But honestly, I don’t have any fucks left to give.
My brother on the other hand is sharply dressed in a three-piece black Armani suit. He even has a chic pocket square to finish off the look.
On the outside we look alike, but anyone who really knows us knows we’re nothing like each other.
I’m the idea man, flying by the seat of my pants and Gian is calm, collected, and calculated. He plots, I act.
Together, we’re a force to be reckoned with.
Gian’s presence in the bar commands the place. Already, the surrounding men are beginning to quiet and are ready to hear what he has to say.
There’s a power vacuum in Providence.
It started when Angelo DeMarco, la Famiglia underboss was killed the same night as the boss’s, Massimo Maranzano, son. It took them all a few years to learn the dirty details that surrounded the two families, but now all of that has passed them and la Famiglia remained without a boss.
Gian plans to fill the void. He’s playing the long game though. One spark and this whole family could go up in flames. He wants everything to go perfectly according to his plans.
I reached up to the top shelf to grab a new bottle of whiskey before pouring a healthy dose into two cups. One for me, one for Gian.
He nods his appreciation wordlessly as he grabs the low ball and takes a swig. “Thank you.” he mouths.
The bar was closed to the public for the night. It was only made men here. Men who had been initiated into this thing of ours, formally known as La Cosa Nostra.
La Famiglia has been a part of my life since I was born. Most of the men who stood in here were lifers. Our fathers and grandfathers were made, and we followed in their footsteps. La Famiglia was a true family.
Gian stood silent for a minute, taking in the room. The men here tonight were younger, the new generation of men. They were men who were loyal to us and who were angry about the previous
