that wasn’t just part of the plan, huh?” he countered. “We don’t know anything about the woman’s character. Her injuries could have just been her sacrifice in their ten-million-dollar scheme.”
“And that’s why we’re waiting, Ciro,” Luca replied. “We’re waiting to see what she does and how she handles everything.”
“Christ, Mancini, we’re not inviting her over for Thanksgiving,” I added dryly.
Ciro shook his head. “I don’t like it,” he muttered. “I don’t fucking like it.”
I stood up and walked over to my brother-in-law. “I get it, Ciro,” I told him. “Believe me, I do. But when my wife has conceded to everything else, I have to grant her this one concession. I don’t just want her, Ciro. I want her happy.”
“Robbie will be watched, Ciro,” Luca mentioned. “Their friendship will be monitored. I promise, Francesca will be safe.”
Ciro looked between me and Luca. After a few seconds, he finally said, “If anything else happens to my sister because of that women, I will kill her myself. Agreed?” Ciro didn’t relish killing women, so we knew he was serious with that condition.
“Agreed,” Luca replied.
I nodded my head. “Agreed.”
“I mean it,” he stressed. “Frankie gets hurt again because of her, I will fucking kill her.”
It wasn’t too hard to agree because I chose to believe Frankie. I chose to believe Robbie hadn’t taken part in the kidnapping scheme. “Agreed,” I repeated.
“She’s all yours,” Luca remarked. “Now let’s call it a fucking day and get some sleep, boys.” Luca unleashed one of his rare smiles. “We have an empire that needs our attention.”
Indeed, we did.
Epilogue
Phoenix – (One Month Later)~
He lasted longer than any of us thought he would, but then, Massimo has always done the most with the odds stacked against him.
His funeral was this Saturday at St. Peter’s Church, followed by his burial at the Morgan City Cemetery. Luca spared no expense, and only those who arrived early would be getting a seat in the church. Every neighborhood kid from the last forty years would be attending and those who couldn’t attend would be sending flowers. The church was going to be packed.
However, right now, it was just the six of us in the private room Luca paid for; Luca, Ciro, Frankie, me, the priest, and Massimo’s peaceful, pale body. All hospital staff was absent from the room and guards stood outside.
I held Frankie in my arms as she quietly sobbed into my chest, still not wanting to believe he was gone. Hell, none of us wanted to believe it. But his unresponsive body on the bed and the father’s words of faith and loss were hard to argue with. Massimo was gone and hundreds of future neighborhood kids were going to suffer for it.
I stood with my arm around Frankie and remembered all the times I’d run to Massimo as a young boy and asked for his advice. Having worthless drug addicts as parents, Massimo had been my only real paternal influence and, often, the only person who fed me. Up until their deaths, I hadn’t felt comfortable intruding on the Mancinis because, while Mattia Mancini had a kind heart, Vincent Mancini never would have given me permission to date or marry his daughter if he believed I wouldn’t be able to take care of her. And I wouldn’t have blamed the man.
When Father O’Patrick finished his sermon, we followed him in the blessing and prayer of the deceased. We all followed the sign of the cross and said farewell amens to Massimo. Father O’Patrick shook Luca’s hand first, then Ciro’s, and then mine. Frankie managed to let go of me long enough to give him a hug, but as soon as he let go, she was back in my arms. He walked out of the room without a guard, but priests were common sights in the hospital, so we weren’t overly concerned with someone seeing him.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Frankie whispered brokenly. “So many kids still need him.”
“He’s irreplaceable, that’s for sure,” Ciro added. “There’ll never be another Massimo.”
We all had vastly different relationships with the man, but that just made us love him more. He had taken the time to know us, to learn about us, so his help and advice was tailored for the individual. Ciro was right. There’d never be another Massimo.
“He was a good man,” Luca added, standing the closest to his bedside. Luca had very few people close to him, and he just lost him one.
“Our children are never going to know him,” Frankie whispered