For the Empire - Inganno

Chapter 58

Enzo and I decided to have breakfast al fresco while we wait for my Uncle Timo.

"So, you've been in Italy this whole time?" I ask.

Enzo nods his head as he puts his coffee cup down; he looks over at me, his eyes are bright in the morning sun, and his face is littered with his beard coming in from not shaving.

"Yes, that's where I live when I'm not working." He responds.

"I'm sorry about your dad, Enzo, and your mom. I didn't know what had happened to her until a few years later, my dad told me. And I just found out about your dad recently." I lean over and squeeze his hand on the table.

He looks down at my hand over his before looking back up at me. "It was a long time ago, Stella. If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you. If it weren't for my dad, Serena would still be here."

"Don't apologize for something you had no control over and your dad had no way of knowing things would turn out the way they did that night; my nosiness is what got their attention on us."

I clear my throat. "Is it true you had your first...job or assignment when you were 13?"

Enzo's eyebrows twitch for a moment before he relaxes his face. "Yes."

"How...how did it happen? If you don't mind me asking, but if you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

He creases his eyebrows as his long fingers trace patterns on the table cloth. He looks up and out into the vast yard before he starts speaking. "I was asked to go with my Uncle to a meeting. Except it wasn't a meeting, not like one you'd think, anyway. We drove to an old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere. 

When we got out of the car, I had this feeling that something terrible was going to happen. When we walked into the barn, there were five people on their knees, their hands tied behind their backs, with bags over their heads.

My Uncle looked at me and told me I would see firsthand what happens when people betray him. These people, each one of them, worked for him, but they each broke Omertà, the code of silence. There were three men and two women; the women were crying and trembling. And one of the men had pissed himself."

"My Uncle asked me to take off the sacks, covering their heads. I still remember the shocked look on each of their faces as they saw me, standing in front of them; a kid."

"My Uncle's 'training' for that first year lead to that moment. The training involved anything from learning different fighting styles, how to use and fight with all different kinds of weapons, learning how to read people, studying different languages, even fucking dance lessons." He laughs coldly, and I think of the night at the gala and how well he moved.

"But the worst part was at night. See, for the first two weeks, I had a nice room, comfy bed, new clothes, warm food. But as soon as training began, he'd lock me in a dark room, in the basement at night, no bed, a small torn blanket to use. The food that he'd give me was cold and tasteless.

He'd see me once a week; that went on for the first year. There were limited interactions with the men unless we were training, and when I had to fight them, they wouldn't take it easy on me because I was a kid. This was from my first knife fight." He gestures to the scar on the side of his face.

"Anyway, so there I was, standing in front of these 'traitors' as my Uncle called them. He shot four of them, and as he raised his gun on the last one, he turned and held his gun out to me.

He said it was time to prove my worth to him, to prove he didn't waste his time with me over that first year. To show if I had more balls than my father ever did." He stops, swallowing hard.