Chapter 14 #3
If I write this, it has to be in first person.
My recollections. No distance. No hiding behind the organization like I’m a stranger to my own blood and decisions.
A man should stand in what he’s done—good or bad.
That’s how I wanted to raise Shio. However, my wants fell short, and I’ve disgraced the family I made for the family I’ve come from.
If I’m going to tell the truth about this life…
About us… About my wife, it has to come from me, Sandro.
I gulped down the stale taste in my mouth. This was Shio’s father’s notebook. Flipping until I found an entry that was longer, I held the book at the best angle in my weakened state to learn as much as I could.
“Okay, you little dicks. We need you to go into town and purchase items on this list.”
All four boys were lined up, scowling. They were dressed in an assortment of wrestling graphic shirts and shorts.
All their gym shoes were new, and they all had haircuts.
My wife had mentioned that Shio needed new shoes and a haircut, so I’d taken the boys to the mall and let them pick out what they wanted.
We ended our day with a trip to the barber.
We had a guy who came over and did their cuts, but he wouldn’t be able to make it until next week.
My wife and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye, so I've been doing whatever I can to get back into her good graces.
Now that they’d had their hair cut by the black barber, who was located in the mall and had approached me to help, begging to do their hair for a low price, I’d noticed that the guy we used wasn’t very versed in black hair.
He’d done such a good job that there had been smiles on the boys’ faces all day. Until now.
“Niccoli.”
My wife must’ve opened the door for him.
I’d been in my office going over paperwork when I heard him yelling at the boys.
They’d made plans to stay the night at Ezio’s and had come here so that Shio could pack a bag.
My cousin’s piercing blue eyes lifted as he was eye-level with Ezio.
Niccoli’s eyes were dilated, so I already knew what type of mood he was in, and so did the boys, since all of them stood with their little chests poked and scowls on their faces.
“It’s too hot outside, and we already got permission to hang at Ezio’s,” Renello spoke up.
“Yeah. You always come around trying to start stuff. We’re not bothering anybody,” Metavello, Renello’s twin brother, backed him.
I’d always admired the fact that Lombardo produced twins.
I’d yearned for Shio to have a brother in the home, but it wasn’t fair to plant another seed inside of his mother under this roof.
Had it been up to me, we would have never procreated.
It wasn’t that I didn’t love my son; I love Shio with my whole heart.
But I wronged his mother. I’d wronged him. I didn’t deserve either of them.
Niccoli stood, straightened the navy blue jacket of his suit, and lifted his hand to strike.
“Cousin! Let us have a discussion in my office. We can even have a little party,” I said to him, trying to avoid issues today.
God knows Niccoli didn’t need to hit another bump, but if it got him away from my son, I was all for it.
“Dear cousin…” Niccoli let one finger down at a time on his hands that were still raised until his hand was in a raised fist. “You dare interrupt the orders of Don?”
I could see Shio out of my peripheral vision. Unlike his cousins, his face was void. I could tell that he was upset, but only because I was his father, and I knew him.
“No. Never. But the boys have pizza waiting for them.”
“Pizza? Nonsense. Boys, you will come with me and do as I say or… Or… I will fuck your mothers in front of you while you eat your fucking pizza. Which will it be?”
“Let’s just go.” Shio pushed past Niccoli to the front door. The other three boys stayed in place, all scowling at Niccoli.
“You always ruining shit. You just a shit-ruiner.” Renello huffed.
“And you’re a black-ass disgrace!“
Metavello gritted his jaw together, never one to let anyone disrespect his brother. “And you’re a white, nasty-ass, low-level mobster. You think that racist shit hurt our feelings?”
“It don’t,” Ezio chimed in.
“I’ll fucking—”
“Let’s just get it over with,” Shio called from the door. With his hand on the knob, he pushed it open and walked out. The boys, sending more daggers at Niccoli, trailed behind him.
Niccoli put his fist down and stuffed his hand in his pocket.
“I should come—” I started, but was cut off.
“You shouldn’t. Don has not requested your presence. You’ve done enough today.”
“I’ve done enough by making sure they have new shoes and groomed hair. Is our appearance not a part of our organization?”
“These fucking children are not ours!” Niccoli yelled at me. “They are not of pure Italian blood. They are mistakes, and that is why they are treated as such.”
“My son is of my blood. One day, these boys will take over the organization, and if Benzino does not produce a male heir, Ezio will be Don.”
Niccoli was the hardest on Ezio, and I knew it would come back to harm him.
“Is that some sort of threat, Sandro? You think I’m scared of a child?”
“A child will one day be a man, Niccoli.”
He scoffed and brushed past me, but I caught his arm.
“Let me fucking go before I see to it that your boy is punished the harshest.”
Gripping Niccoli’s bicep, I leaned in and bared my teeth. “The child will one day become a man.”
Niccoli snatched away from me with a flick of his jacket. The door creaked as he opened it, then slammed shut. Sighing, I turned while rubbing my hand through my hair that needed washing. Pausing, my chest thudded as Shannon peered down at me from the top of the stairs.
“Amour—”
I paused in my stride as she turned on her heels, disappearing down the hall.
I had to figure out a way to get us out of this—to get her out of this.
For as long as I could remember, the Cuppacios had their own way of doing things.
Our fathers, their fathers, and their fathers were all in arranged marriages.
But back then, those arranged marriages were somewhat agreed upon, and even if the women didn’t approve, their families did.
Niccoli somehow convinced his brother that there was money in human trafficking.
Our fathers were a small mob who didn’t have much financially.
We were established, but more ruthless than anything.
When Niccoli told his brother about the possibilities of wealth from trafficking women and children, that is when my disdain for the mob began.
All of the wives had been snatched from their homes all over the world.
But I was only a man of one. What could I do?
Was I a monster? Yes—I owned that. But I even had my limits. Rape and kidnapping were among them.
Boom!
I jumped from my desk, where I’d been for the last three hours after pacing and praying that Shio and the boys weren’t being punished too badly.
I could hear the boys’ voices, but instead of running immediately, I waited it out to see if Don was amongst them.
I had to tread lightly with my big cousin.
He wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in my head, and although I wasn’t afraid of dying, I was afraid of what would become of my son and his mother after I was gone.
“SSSSSSSSSSSANDRO!”
Jumping to my feet as my wife screamed bloody murder, my shoulder slammed the door frame of my office as I exited. Ignoring the pain, I ran to the living area and nearly blacked out at the scene before me.
“Man, what the fuck!” Renello shouted as I walked further into the living room.
“It just happened so fast!” Metavello said, kneeling at the couch.
“Oh my God! Baby, what happened? Keep your eyes open!”
My wife was kneeling beside Metaello, peering into Shio’s face as he lay, sprawled out on the couch.
Renello had his hands placed on top of his head while he paced.
Metavello, now bare-chested, had his shirt pressed against Shio’s leg while Ezio was yelling all types of obscenities.
Their bodies were covered in dust, and their gym shoes that I’d just purchased earlier were no longer new and crisp. They were battered and worn.
“Whhh… What… What happened?” I stammered.
Ezio’s head snapped at me. “Yo’ bitch-ass cousins sent us on a suicide mission. Now look what happened to Shio!” Ezio pointed.
My wife was cradling Shio’s face now, placing kisses all over him while whispering prayers. Shifting my eyes to Shio’s sweat-bound body, I cowered as he lay stiff as a board. He turned his head, and his eyes fluttered at me, and my heart fell.
“He… He… He was bit by a snake.”
“Whaaaat!” Shannon screamed.
“Yes, a fucking snake!” Ezio’s little voice boomed.
“Son—” A hand clasped on my chest before I could take a step closer. “Niccoli, move.”
Niccoli’s grip tightened. “That nigger will be just fine. My brother called the doctor. He’s in the driveway, walking up at any moment.”
Ding Dong
“See… Although I prefer he died, my brother has other plans. Now, how about that party in your office? I need something to take the edge off from these black bitches screaming.”
You see, I failed my son.
The moment I decided not to stay there to ensure Shio received the proper care, or took matters into my own hands and got him to the hospital myself was my biggest failure.
I’m sure there are more that occurred before this moment, but the drugs have made my memories scattered.
They are never in order or clear until my mind wants them to be.
I led Niccoli to my office as my wife cried and prayed over our son. The regret hit me immediately, but it didn’t stop me from shutting out the chaos in the front room as Niccoli began to spread out the white powder that made everything better.
“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him” Psalm 127:3
I must do better by my son. I must.
Slamming the journal shut, I placed it on the cool tiled floor and pushed it away.
My body was in pain, but the hurt in my heart felt ten times worse.
I should have never taken that book. I should have never read anything on those pages.
Shio’s upbringing was deplorable, and it showed in his way of handling things.
He can’t keep you here forever, Solana. He can’t keep you here forever, my thoughts raced.
Picking up the phone, I sent Shio two text messages before locking the screen and closing my eyes.
My body was on fire from leaning against the bathroom wall, and I knew I had nothing left in me after reading the horror Shio and his cousins went through.
From those words in his father’s notebook, Shio and I were more alike than not.
And then it hit me that maybe Shio felt I was more like his father.
Not having the energy or mental capacity to pull my body back into the main room, I sank further down the wall until my head hit my outstretched arm.
I was empty from the vomiting and from the reading of how Shio and his cousins were raised.
Once Shio showed his face, I would prove to him that I was not Sandro.
I now understand how important showing him that was.