Even Nico, a man not prone to emotion or shock, looked horrified.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Alf,” he said.
He took a puff of his cigarette. Just like that, the cold-blooded messenger of the family had returned, his show of empathy was so brief, it was like a hallucination.
“What will you do?”
“I don’t know, but I won’t stay here,” I said. “Make an honest living. Maybe something in California, maybe something in Utah. I don’t know. Just not here.”
“Well, that’s at least a good decision if you’re going to make that first bad one,” Nico said. “I would encourage you to think about it, Alf. The Boss is getting old, and more zealous members of the family are biding their time to strike at those who—”
“I’ve never been part of the family, Nico, and you know that,” I said. “I’ve only helped, and you’ve repaid me greatly. But I’m not in the family.”
Nico sighed.
“You’ve been warned,” he said. “You may have made a promise to God, but doing this is a deal with the devil.”
He took another puff of the cigarette.
“Should I inform…”
“No,” I said, cutting him off immediately when I knew where he was going. “No, absolutely not. I’ll reach out to her.”
Nico took one more puff of the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and grinding the butt down.
“I’ll leave her up to you, then,” he said. “As for the rest, God speed. Because depending on how things go, it may only be God that can save you.”
I didn’t care. I’d risk wrestling with the devil to keep Mary alive and my boys safe. I’d risk anything to have that happen.
Nico left. And with him, I hoped, the last ties I had to the family and The Boss.
* * *
Three Months Later
“Hurry up, Bill!” I yelled from downstairs. “We’re not going to wait all day.”
“I’m almost done, Dad!”
I sat in the kitchen, alone, drinking the remains of my morning tea. I needed it to feel awake after the previous few months. Really, I just needed a permanent injection of caffeine, but I wasn’t even sure that could do the trick.
“Take the luggage out to the car,” I said. “You’re the last one.”
“Ugh, I know!”
I didn’t yell at him for having an attitude. I was honestly just going through the motions as a father; until we got on the road and actually got out of Las Vegas, I felt like I was living on borrowed time. Nico’s half-threats had remained in the back of my mind, and I never did have a moment where my focus wasn’t on constantly scanning the environment for threats.
But so far, no more violence had come upon the Ferrari family. And after what had happened to little Maria, that was the only metric I judged life by.
I heard Bill bounding down the stairs with the last of his clothing. I took a moment to pause and look around the now-barren kitchen. The only thing that remained was the table and two chairs, a sort of parting gift we decided to give to the new owners rather than try to lug it to our new home.
This place made my family and me who we are today. For both better and for much worse.
I opened my mouth to say something to the empty space, but I stopped myself. Anything short would be incomplete; anything long was just delaying the move.
I walked outside and shut the door behind me, placing the keys to the house under the mat. But before I went to the car, I made one last stop at the spot where Maria had drawn her last breath.
“I’ll always remember you, my little one,” I said. “I’ll make sure that no one in this family ever has to suffer like you did. I love you.”
I kissed the ground, sighed, and headed for the driver’s door. I opened it, shut it, and looked back at my family. In the back were my three boys.
And to my right, by miracle of miracles, was my wife: alive, wounded, but breathing.
“Time for a new life, boys,” I said.
“What are we going to do in California?” Frank asked earnestly.
For the first time in months, I smiled.
“We’re going to make an honest living,” I said. “We’re going to start a winery near Sacramento. Call it Ferrari Wines. I think it’s going to be just what we need.”
Just what we need for our boys and, eventually, our grandkids to have their own lives.
May what happened here never happen again.
Chapter 1: Nick
Present Day—Sacramento, CA
“And what can we expect this summer from the new-look Nick Ferrari?”
Sitting in a producer’s seat, I shined my endorsement-winning smile to the reporter seated across from me, a cute blonde girl in a red suit from ESPN. Around us, an entire production crew, ranging from cameramen to producers to audio guys, captured everything I did, from every “um” I might utter to every shift in my seat.
“I just think you’re going to see me go out there, give it my all, and give the fans a good show,” I said, conscious of maintaining my smile the whole time for the cameras.
“Even in a contract year?” the reporter asked. “You will be a free agent at the end of the year. And the rumor is you’re just going to retire instead of move and take over your family’s namesake.”
I chuckled in an “aw, shucks,” demeanor, pretending to be embarrassed at having been “caught” in some sort of scandalous truth. I shook my head slowly while smiling, keeping a playful tone.
“I’m not worried about what will happen after I lead the Giants to another World Series banner,” I said. “I’m just worried about making sure I give my teammates a hundred
