Epilogue
Outside the operating room, the doctor told Lucy the bad news about Mr. Moretti. The doctor looked somber, and Lucy looked very sad.
“Sorry, Lucy. We did all we could,” the doctor said.
Lucy gasped. She held back the tears.
She called her boyfriend Vito and told him the news.
“Hi, honey,” Lucy said sadly.
“Hi, baby,” Vito replied. “What’s going on? How is your dad doing?”
There was a long pause. Lucy teared up.
“I lost him, sugar. I lost him.”
Lucy was Moretti’s illegitimate daughter. He had paid for all her nursing classes and got her the job at the hospital with the doctor’s recommendation.
Moretti wanted his daughter to be near him, and he got his wish.
This was the price he paid for mixing business with pleasure. But he was very happy with his daughters, Lucia and Blondie, and his son, Rocco. Three different mothers, one fatherly heart.
“I’ll make him pay. I’ll take care of it,” Vito promised.
“Yes, sugar. You make him pay. He’s a bad man. He turned Clarissa into a bona fide whore. I heard her say it, and he didn’t deny it. That was the life my father never wanted for me or Blondie. And now he’s gone.”
Lucy started sobbing.
“Is he there now?” Vito asked.
“Yes, he is,” Lucy said with tears streaming down both cheeks. “Get over here quickly before he takes off or something.”
“I’ll be right over. I’ll turn him into hamburger meat.”
“That’s the Vito I know and love. Thank you, baby. Bye.”
Click.
How is Grandpa Moretti going to take the news?
Two weeks had passed after that whole ordeal. Cole was in the hospital bed recuperating from the beatdown Vito had given him.
He was connected to an IV. The clear liquid dripped into his left arm. The beeping of the heart monitor was steady.
He could talk, but he couldn’t move much. His head was all bandaged up, and his right arm and left leg were in a cast.
“Hello, Mr. B. How you doing today? Feeling any better?” Lucy asked.
“I’ve felt better,” Cole groaned.
“I see,” she replied. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I told you he was going to turn you into hamburger meat. A Moretti always keeps her promises.”
“I’ve already apologized to you many times. Will you ever forgive me?”
Cole was remorseful for his behavior. He had a lot of time to think about his life choices, the woman he chose to marry, the failure of his marriage, her betrayal with John, and the bombshell news that Michael was not his son. That finally broke him.
“I’ll think about it and let you know, okay?” Lucia said.
“I’m glad to hear that.” There was a pause. “Did you hear any news from your grandfather?”
“No. I haven’t. You know very well we can’t do anything without his say-so. We follow the chain of command. Now that Moretti, my father, is no longer here on this earth, Grandpa Moretti has taken over.”
Cole’s tears started to roll down his cheeks.
“Don’t cry. You’ll get better soon,” Lucia assured him.
“I’m happy Michael came by to see me earlier. But he said good-bye to me. Do you know what that’s all about?”
“I’m not sure, Mr. B.”
“He said he was coming back,” Cole replied.
“Okay, Mr. B. Whatever you say.”
Blondie, the jazz singer, knocked on the door and came into the bedroom. She had her usual getup on, a white shirt, shorts, and sneakers, and this time she carried a different, slightly bigger purse.
“Hi ya, sis,” Blondie said to Lucy.
What the hell? That’s Blondie. What is she doing here? Cole thought.
“Hi, sugar.” Kiss, kiss. They greeted each other. “Was this the pig you were telling me about?”
“Yeah. He was gross. As soon as I saw him ogling me in the jazz club, I decided to have a little fun with him. You know, turn him on, and then leave him wanting some more. He was like a little puppy.”
I hate you. I hate you all, Cole thought.
“You’re worse than I am, little sis,” Lucy pointed out.
“Yeah, I am. I even sang horribly out of tune just to see if I got the job. You know, I put him to the test: talent or tits and ass. I guess tits and ass won.”
You’re the worst. I hate you. Burn in hell, Cole thought.
Blondie was tired of being objectified and not taken seriously for her talent she had worked so hard to refine. Moretti, her father, had paid for all her private singing lessons over the years.
“There’s a change of plan,” Blondie whispered. She opened her bag, and Lucia took a peek.
Lucia gasped.
“Are you sure?” Lucia asked.
“It came directly from the horse’s mouth,” Blondie assured her.
Lucia took one out of the purse, and Blondie left hers inside.
There was a knock at the door.
Lucia put hers behind her back, and Blondie put hers back in the bag.
“Hi there,” Clarissa said. “May I come in?”
“Of course, please come in.” Lucia looked a bit sad. “Mrs. B. You know my sister Blondie.”
Over the years, Clarissa had met all of Moretti’s legitimate and illegitimate children.
She had given birth to one of them, Ralph.
She had kept him a secret all those years.
If Moretti had found out she had had a son, he would have assumed it was his and turned him into a mobster as well.
That was the tradition. All children become part of the business one way or another.
“Yes, darling.” Kiss, kiss. “Good to see you again, Mrs. B.,” Blondie said. “It was fun messing with your ex-husband.”
You fucking bitch, Cole thought. This was all a setup.
“Thank you, hun,” Clarissa said.
“Don’t thank her yet, Mrs. B.,” Lucia replied.
Blondie lifted the bag, holding it with her left hand underneath and her right hand inside.
“Here, this is for you,” Blondie offered.
Clarissa’s eyes widened. Her eyes filled with joy. It was a very expensive purse. She put her hands on it.
“What’s inside?” she asked.
“It’s a gift.”
“Oh my, you shouldn’t have!” she exclaimed. “I don’t deserve this.”
“Yes, you do,” Blondie replied.
Two bullets followed each other, one after the other. They had penetrated her chest; two streams of blood gushed out.
What a mess, Blondie thought.
Clarissa’s life flashed before her eyes. She thought about all the secrets and lies she had kept from Cole. How she had betrayed his trust by sleeping with Moretti. Her regret of not being able to have the opportunity to save the love of her life, John.
Money can’t buy happiness! Her final thought.
Cole’s eyes had met Clarissa's; he knew he was next. Clarissa fell to the floor. Blondie knelt beside her and closed her shocked eyes.
“It’s a gift from my grandpa Moretti. He thought you’d appreciate it,” Blondie whispered.
Lucia turned to Cole as Blondie stood up.
“Sorry, Mr. B. Change of plans.” She pointed the gun with the silencer Blondie had brought with her in her purse.
One bullet between the eyes is all it took.
Cole closed his eyes as the bullet penetrated his forehead between his eyebrows.
He had made peace with himself and had a feeling the end was near when he saw Lucia’s gun behind her back but had kept his mouth shut.
Lucia turned to Blondie. “See, sis. You’re not the only one with talent.” A tear ran down Lucia’s right cheek.
“Don’t tell me you’re crying for that sleazeball?" Blondie asked.
“Nah, I have a speck of dust in my eye; it makes me sad when I can’t take it out.”
They both laughed.
“Let’s put these away before anyone comes in,” Lucia suggested. She took a hospital gown from a drawer, put the two guns inside, and put them inside a clear garbage bag that was on the floor next to the mops.
“Hey, what did I miss?” Michael asked as he came through the door with a girlie magazine as a surprise for his dad.
He dropped the magazine on the floor as soon as he saw both his parents dead. Michael dropped to the floor with a knife on his back.
“What the hell, Rocco?” Lucia yelled.
“You and your fucking knives. Really?” Blondie reacted.
Rocco hated guns. He’d learned that from his mother. He preferred knives instead. He hated his father for stopping him from becoming an artist. He was happy he was dead. He had given Blondie and Lucia what they wanted for a career, but not him.
“There’s an art to it, you know what I mean?”
Rocco had taken art to a whole new level.
“Where is Vito?” Lucia asked.
Grandpa Moretti had taken care of John, Ralph, and his grandparents back in Jersey. Grandpa Moretti did not take the news of his son being killed very well. He needed to send a very loud, clear, and deadly message to anyone messing with any member of the Moretti family.
Grandpa Moretti believed Clarissa’s lies, the paternity deceptions involving both Michael and Ralph, and her relentless pursuit of more money had ultimately led to his son’s death. In his mind, everyone involved was guilty. That meant the whole family, guilty or not.
“Hi ladies,” Vito said as he walked in. “This is a fucking mess. Who’s going to clean all this blood on the floor?” he said as he looked at Clarissa’s lifeless body.
“See, I told you. There’s an art to using a knife, and they’re less messy.”
“Shut up, Rocco.” Lucia and Blondie said as they both rolled their eyes.
“All right, all right. Let’s clean up,” Rocco ordered.
Lucia and Blondie whispered to each other.
“Grandpa Moretti did not want to leave any loose ends,” Blondie said very quietly.
“I know,” Lucia replied. "No loose ends."
Blondie shrugged.
“I liked Mrs. B. She was always nice to me,” Lucia whispered. A tear ran down her right cheek. “I think I got another speck of dust in my eye.”
“I liked them both. They were very cute,” Blondie said. A tear streamed down her left cheek. “Looks like I got a speck of dust in my eye too.”
THE END.