Third person's pov
Many mourned Sebastian Leroy's loss on a misty morning. Andrea Galanis, his widow, stood strong, her green eyes hidden behind a black veil.
As the mourners arrived, soft whispers filled the cathedral. Andrea searched the crowd, knowing the shooter's identity. Her eyes did not meet Diego's eyes, she let out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding. He had heeded her words. Suddenly, Sebastian's sister, Alina, stumbled in, drunk and angry.
"You!" Alina slurred, pointing at Andrea. "You're the devil's bride! You killed my brother! I know it was you. You took him away from all of us, you diabolical bitch , the devel himself lives in you" Alina went on, still throwing insults at Andrea.
"Alina, your grief is clouding your judgment. My husband is laying in that casket so I suggest you get a grip on yourself or I will have to help you do that." Andrea's voice remained calm as she spoke but it was still paced with venom.
Alina spat. " No, you know it's true, you manipulated my brother, used him for your own gain. You are poison!"
"I loved your brother, Alina. In my own way. I did not wish for him to be sentenced to such a fate."
"Lies!" Alina shouted. "You never loved him! You're cold-hearted, calculating ......"
"Enough!" Andrea interrupted, her voice rising. She took a breath to sound calm.
" Can someone please take her home I think she has had too much to drink and she doesn't realise what she is saying. Ms Alina needs some rest please take her away Pierre." Pierre and two other guards intervened, escorting Alina out. "Madame, please follow me." Pierre pleaded.
The commotion was followed by a deep silence. Everyone was trying to block out what had just happened, they all just wanted to proceed with the funeral ceremony. Maybe somewhere in the crowd some did believe Alina and they wanted someone to blame.
The ceremony began, the priest's words filled the silence. Bruno, Sebastian's right hand man, stepped forward. His voice echoed through the silence.
"Aujourd'hui, nous perdons un grand homme, un chef, un frère." [Today, we lose a great man, a leader, a brother.] "Sebastian Leroy était plus qu'un don pour nous; c'était un père, un ami, un frère." [Sebastian Leroy was more than a don to us; he was a friend, a brother.]
"Ton départ a laissé une plaie dans nos cœurs, et moi, je suis perdu sans toi, mon vieil ami." [Your departure has left a wound in our hearts, and I am lost without you, my old friend.]
"Brother on your deathbed you asked one thing of me, take care of Andrea, I will honour you brother and your dying wish. Andrea, vous êtes maintenant une partie de nous." [Andrea, you are now a part of us.]
"Vous êtes la Donna de la mafia française."[You are the Donna of the French mafia.]"
Bruno paused, surveying the crowd.
"Personne n'est plus loyal que les hommes de la mafia française Et c'est un fait."[No one is more loyal than the men of the French mafia and that Is a fact.] "Ils suivront leur Donna jusqu'au bout du monde, sans question, sans hésitation. "[They will follow their Donna to the ends of the world, without question, without hesitation.]
"Pour vous, nous donnerons notre vie."[For you, we will give our life.]
The French mafia men and women nodded, their faces set with determination. Andrea's eyes met Bruno's she felt resolve strengthening.
"La mafia française est à vous, Italienne Principessa." [The French mafia is yours, Italian Princess.]Bruno's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Nous sommes à vos ordres, Donna." [We are at your orders, Donna.].
The misty rain seemed to wash away doubts, leaving only loyalty and resolve.
The funeral procession arrived at the Leroy family's private cemetery, shrouded in misty rain. Andrea's emotions threatened to surface as the casket was lowered.Andrea was walking behind the casket, heart heavy with secrets.
As the casket touched the ground, Andrea's eyes locked onto Diego's, standing at the back of the crowd. His gaze was intense, but she looked away, focusing on the priest's final words.
"Requiescat in pace, Sebastian Leroy." [Rest in peace, Sebastian Leroy.]
The mourners echoed, "Requiescat in pace." [Rest in peace.]
Andrea maintained her composure. She glanced at Bruno, who nodded subtly, reassuring her.
Suddenly, a murmur spread through the crowd as Andrea took out her gun and raised it high and then fired in the air. Representatives from various mafia families, Italian, Spanish, Greek, Korean, French, Mexican and Brazilian stepped forward. Each raised their guns to the sky, forming a sea of steel. The air erupted with simultaneous gunfire. The salute, a timeless tradition, honored Sebastian's memory and legacy. The sound shook the cemetery, echoing off the mausoleums. Twenty-one guns, three rounds each, thundered through the air. The mafia men and women stood transfixed, heads bowed.As the final shot faded, silence returned. The mafia representatives lowered their guns, their faces etched with respect.
A figure emerged from the crowd, Alessandro Bianchi, Italian mafia leader. He approached Andrea and the rest of Sebastian's family members, his voice low and gravelly. "Respect to the Leroy family. Sebastian was a great don, a true leader."
Andrea nodded. In a low voice Samantha Leroy replied. "Grazie, Allesandro"
Similar condolences flowed from the Spanish, Brazilian, and Korean mafia leaders.
As the attendees began to disperse, Andrea felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Pierre. "Donna the cars are waiting. We should leave." Andrea nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd one last time. Diego was gone. The misty rain thickened, veiling the cemetery in mystery. Andrea's heart remained heavy, weighed down by secrets and unresolved emotions.
In the car, Bruno sat beside her, his voice low.
"Andrea, nous sommes prêts. [Andrea, we're ready.]"
"For what?" she asked, her voice sounded calm and she was intrigued.
"To avenge Sebastian's murder. We want blood Donna, lots of it. It is the only way." Andrea's gaze met Bruno's, a silent understanding passing between them.
The French mafia's loyalty was unwavering, but Andrea knew the road ahead would be treacherous. Alina's accusations still lingered. As the cars drove away from the cemetery, Andrea steeled herself for the challenges ahead. She was the Donna of the French mafia now, and she would not falter.
"Et je le garantis," [And I guarantee it,] she whispered to herself.
The misty rain continued to fall, washing away the past but the future remained uncertain.
YOU ARE READING
Mafia Principessa
FanfictionAndrea, a 17 year old girl who has faced many hardships. At the age of 10 she was snatched away from her father by the Russians. Once she escapes her foster parents die two years later and a single phone call changes her life forever. Andrea embarks...
