Family Get Together

Two years pass by like a wink. The first quarter of it went on smoothly. As smoothly as a mafia can run. Attacks on the family were normal and expected but how bold some of these attacks were what caught the head of the family off guard. As if they are testing the water before they dove in. Meaning there's something big coming their way. A well-planned ambush at that.

Even though an insignificant number got away with it - for now at least, a majority of the groups failed to stay hidden for long and were eventually punished and 'removed'.

This is the nature of a mafia and how consequences work if you threaten the wrong people. This means half of the time it is not just about profit loss and blood spill. This is an indirect sign to others that maybe the Morettis are not as tough as they seem. That they also bleed.

The head of the family is no amateur that can't read between the lines. Hence, the headquarters of Moretti Co. has never seen a peaceful day after the first quarter of these two years. Some of the investigations of the attacks were a dead end. Meaning whoever did organize them had some damn good intel to run with. Even though the suspect list is endless there's no real culprit. The theory up until now was that it was an inside job.

So obviously everyone was a suspect. This leads the entire group of staff that work there from the cleaning crew up to the main table to watch their back and be more cautious. Anyone capable of getting away with it for this long has to have quite the skill set. Leaving no room for error.

Disloyalty in the organization is frowned upon. Facing a gruesome death no matter which level you are in the power hierarchy inside the organization, is inevitable. So, it's obvious that everyone was on edge.

Mr. Moretti finally comes to terms that five hundred and forty-eight days of walking on eggshells and breathing with this palpable tension in the air will only drain the company further and not stronger. He cannot afford to show any weakness. As of now the frequent attacks on his group holding the title of 'the most feared mafia' among other organizations show how the power dynamic that used to be there that was questioned by none is being challenged.

The challenge is not the issue it's the audacity to even think that anyone could go beyond their jurisdictions. And even though he trusts no one, better yet respects no one's opinion he would rather slit his own throat than see his group go under while he is living and breathing.

"Call them in for an emergency meeting."

His assistant doesn't spare him a second to explain whom he meant by 'them'. Mr. Moretti turns on his chair. Sighs, and tries to remember the last time he was happy, relaxed, and at peace. He has a reoccurring dream that keeps him up at night. He couldn't bring in a therapist or talk about it to anyone. All part of the 'I can't trust anyone'. As if everyone is out to get him. This paranoia of his has only gotten worse. But he can't show weakness.

He was not afraid of death. Far from it. He would love to die. He believed that he would get to meet the one person he craved to hug, touch, hear the voice of or just be in the presence of would be there. His wife. His love. His home.

But he knew she wouldn't be the same Emily he knew. That is, if she remembers everything from her past and if she can see him now. Matter of fact she will despise him. For how broken the home she and he once build is now and how he never attempted to build it back up. A wave of nausea and dread flow through his body.

'No, I hope we never meet again.'

The constant reminder of her in his dreams and the way he gets to relive that painful separation they had over and over again, each day was killing him alive. He wanted to hate his wife for torturing him for so long. Even though he knew that it is not fair to blame her. Since deep down he knew he can't wipe the ugly truth.

The real reason why the most painful part of the whole 'living to see another day' was because it is his fault. He knew in his heart no matter how much blood he spills to avenge his wife the true murderer is standing right in front of the mirror.

The reason why he lost faith, and trust in everything and himself. The reason why he lost his family. The reason why his children lost their mother. His wife. All these painful days he spent were thanks to himself. No one was to blame but him. It was his guilt to carry for the rest of his life.

Yet like the true coward that he truly is behind the whole 'mafia head who fears non' façade he didn't dwell on it. He couldn't show weakness, remember? He just busied himself. Distanced himself from anything that remotely relates to the 'incident' as he calls it. Which unfortunately included his kids. He buried himself inside the four walls of his office. Pretended that all he cared about was the organization. Which is partially true. He made sure that even the people around him didn't utter a word about it.

He couldn't afford to walk down memory lane without turning into the man he was for 5 years after the accident. Killing, drinking, and sleeping was his routine. He became this monster. Which led his mafia to be feared yet at the brink of bankruptcy.

After that, he picked up from where he left off and started building from the ground up, then expanding to finally securing the top spot. Slowly the whole 'pretending' and the 'ignoring' became addictive to the point he believed it. Built his life around it. The running away worked. He found a way to numb the pain. The only fault is the dreams. He considered it as his way of repaying and made 'sleep' an optional activity.

So, the current situation they are in looks a whole lot like the play that once played him because of his poor leadership and poor mental state. It's almost as if the past has come to mock him. Even though their position is still secured as one of the top competitors this 'deja-vu' hits way too close to home.

A few days after, the meeting day arrives. The conference room is deadbeat silent. Even though given his very 'on-schedule' lifestyle Mr. Moretti is nowhere to be seen.

"It's been a while. The last time I saw you, you refused to have a conversation with me." A low slow voice barely breaks the silence.

The other party just smirks looking at the ground then lift their head to say "As my manager informed you that day you should have made an appointment before meeting me. I am a very busy man after all."

The gentleman who looks rather older between the two scoffs at that "Busy? Doing what exactly? Last time I checked you were a driver. That is not a real job when it's your racetracks that you are using to have some child-like fun. Do the whole world a favor and grow up."

The one in the blue suit removes the last remaining button in the blazer and moves his upper body to the front almost as if he's about to tell a secret. "Yes, I'm busy doing something I love which you would know nothing about unless being our dear daddy's little scapegoat is something you love." He smiles widely at his brother taking a minute to compose himself without bursting into laughter.

He wipes his smile off replacing it with a look of curiosity and interest. "Do you need to ask for permission from the old man to take a piss too or do you just raise your hand?"

The older one in the black suit with his hair pushed back fairly neatly, clenches his teeth while looking directly at the accuser who by the way doesn't even flinch, goes back to rest his back on the chair while relaxing one hand on the arm of the chair and the other covers his mouth as if to stop himself from laughing out loud.

The one with a cold gaze looks unaffected. "As I said, grow up little brother."

One would think that there was no room for more tension than there was at the beginning, but in the few silent minutes after this interaction, it almost seems as if they are restraining from killing each other.

The massive metal door opens. Indicating things are about to get way worse.

"I see you two are rather on time today."

In response to that a low "Yes sir" and a "Whatever" was heard. One stood up to welcome the newest addition to the room and the other refused to even make eye contact.

"Then let's not waste more time then and go ahead with the meeting" He chose these words to say to his sons one of whom he works with but only exchanges words through their assistants and shares a few words only if it is necessary and unavoidable for the past fifteen years and the other one who has yet to have a proper conversation with his father since he was nineteen.

On cue, the two of their faces turn to a mixture of anger, and disappointment.

The father of the two sits on the chair a few feet away from them. The closest to him they have been.

"It is no secret that the attacks on the organization have been getting more and more frequent and rather daring. We can't stand still and not retaliate. We need to make sure they remember who is still in the lead. I believe the share market incident was done as a collaboration attack and the missing drugs are a direct work of the Russians. So, if we-"

The metal doors suddenly start to open. All three men whip their heads up. By the look on their faces, it is no secret that they were not expecting anyone especially since this meeting was top secret.

The old man gets up before he could even see who dares to interrupt him. Leonardo gets up on his feet as if on cue hand immediately going for the gun unlocking it from safety and ready to pull it out from the holder while Alex turns his body without getting up hand ready to pull out his weapon.

"Didn't I tell you not to dist-"

"Oh, shut up would you" A strong female voice erupts through the big office almost echoing.

Everyone's expressions change at the speed of lightning. Alessandro quickly gets up on his feet eager than ever looking at the person who is responsible for the interruption with surprise, confusion, and a hint of warmth threatening to overcome his heart. Leonardo on the other hand looks stoic. No emotion got out of that mask. But he quickly lets go of his hold on the gun.

The one with the most surprising expression was the father. The mighty Moretti. Mafia head. Kills anyone that dares define him. The man looked afraid for the first time in a long time as if he had seen a ghost. As if his past mistakes have come to haunt him all at once. Which is not entirely untrue.

"What?" She says comically.

Her face turns into a shocked expression.

"You didn't think I'd miss our precious little family reunion right?"

She leaves her shocked face to grace the room with her incredible acting skills for a few more seconds before she changes her look to how she truly feels. A satisfied predictor.

There she stood, the daughter of the father, sister of the two brothers. Isabella Grace Moretti.