The walls were black, not like how she remembered the yellow wallpaper before they were burnt, the couch was non existent along with Fiona's books, as her eyes traveled every inch of the apartment her heart ached badly with every beat.
Fiona's room was gone, nothing left in it except her charcoal black bed that was barely standing. Her feet started to move on their own and before she knew it she was standing in Roberto's room. Unlike hers, his deep green walls could still be distinguished, but his bed and his wardrobe looked rathe beaten up. However, Fiona's gaze dropped on his nightstand, surprisingly it survived thru the harsh fire.
Her hands left the comfort of her coats' warm pockets and slid the drawer wide open. A journal laid neatly beside his wallet and a pocket watch. That's what Marco left for her to remember and instantly her blood started to boil but she knew revenge wouldn't give her satisfaction, it wouldn't make everything okay. No, it would make everything worse, she knew better of course, to just let it go.
She opened the leather journal open only to have several pictures fall out, a picture of her mother was the first she picked off the floor. Her brunette curled hair covered her sharp jaw, she could tell her mother's lush lips were covered in red lipstick and she could already tell her mother was wearing a blouse and pants-even though it was shameful for a woman to wear such things- but she wore them because she didn't care what others thought of her.
The other picture was of Roberto and Fiona with the rest of her brothers who were murdered back in Italy. They were all so small, skinny and fragile before their father used them. Then, a picture of Roberto and Fiona clouded her vision with thick tears.
They were both young and a little happy -it was before their father sent them to America to assist his close friend- Roberto had his arm wrapped around her neck tugging her roughly, she could still remember how it felt like and it felt like someone was twisting a knife right thru her heart. She shoved the pictures back in the journal and placed it in her bag after she wiped her thick tears.
She opened his wallet only to find a picture of his lover, Grace. Fiona had to admit that she was beautiful -her long black hair was rather shocking and she could already see her green eyes shock you thru the picture in her head- next to Grace's picture was Fiona's.
It was a a passport picture, her brunette hair tied up into a ponytail unlike now, Fiona found it peculiar that she was staring at herself and immediately shoved the picture back in the wallet and soon the wallet was accompanied with the journal once again, before she could grab the pocket watch, a scrunch was heard before and as she turned around and grabbed her gun from her waist, she immediately halted.
Kay stood there awkwardly, gripping her bag closer to her body, "I h-heard this was your place."
"You shouldn't have come here, this isn't even my home anymore." Fiona said before grabbing the pocket watch and brushed Kay's shoulder as she left her brother's room.
"Yesterday, Michael and I... you understood-" Fiona immediately cut her off, she stood tall and brave in front of the woman, at the same time she was firm but gentle and Kay wondered how that could ever be?
"You and Michael- I don't wanna hear it. It's not my business, alright?" Kay's eyes bore into Fay's honey orbs and instantly remembered Michael's words at the diner after Fiona saw the two together.
Michael confessed to Kay that he left her because he knew deep down he never really, truly loved her. Instead, he knew Fiona was the one, he always knew since he saw her at Connie's wedding. Kay understood anyway, Fay was strong and brave and rather strange in the most mysterious way but at the same time, the woman was beautiful, charming and elegant.
"Fay-"
"It's okay Kay, it doesn't matter. If Michael wanted me to know, he'd tell me- you'd make a perfect wife for him, you suit him well." Fiona said, her own words aching her and Kay knew the woman got it all wrong. "You two are perfect. But please, Kay, do me a favor. Never come back here again."
Fiona didn't let Kay speak at all, afraid that she'll be hurt -she was afraid to hear that Kay and Michael were getting back together and were soon going to be married and all Fay could do was watch- so instead, grabbing her brother's last items, she left Kay to stand alone in the broken home and whatever was left of it.
The next stop was Sandra's home- Sonny's wife- as Fiona sat in the dining room, her fingers sliding up and down the glass of wine, she eyed the broken woman.
Sandra knew that her husband was unfaithful (although good) before he was murdered but he was a kind and loving father to his four children and that was all that mattered to her.
"Sandy, if you ever need anything...you always have Don Corleone," Fiona said as she eyed the rather fidgeting widow, "and me."
Sandra smiled at Fiona and nodded her head knowing that she and Connie could always count on Fiona anyway. "Are you still working for the Don?" Fiona nodded silently as her eyes shifted from Sandra to her own deep red wine- for a moment she could see her own reflection swirling in the wine.
"Don't you wanna settle down and get married?" Sandra knew the answer as Fiona slightly choked on her wine and cackled lowly.
"Who'd ever wanna marry a girl like me, huh?" Fiona laughed, "marriage is a luxury for me, Sandra. It's not important to me."
Before Fiona left the house, she tried her best to comfort Sandra and reassured her once more if she needed anything, she knew who she could ask for.
Going back to the Corleone's household, the Don asked for her and she immediately left to see him in his office, thankful that she got the opportunity to cower away from Michael as she knew he was somewhere in the household waiting to grab her.
"Don Corleone?" She knocked the door and entered only to see the man sat behind his desk. Before, he resembled a young lion that emitted such power that other families feared him miles away. Now, he lost that touch a tad.
"You asked for me?"
"Fay. Please, sit." The old man said as he pointed towards the leather seat and she obeyed. "I remember the first day your father sent you to me, with Roberto." Mentioning Roberto's name physically pained Vito but he continued anyway.
"No one took you seriously, even my own boys!" Vito smiled as he scratched his jaw.
Fiona smiled and spoke, "you didn't either."
The Don nodded his head in agreement as another smile grew on his thin lips once more, "but you proved me wrong."
"Yes I did." The thing that Vito loved about the girl was that she never cowered away from him, she looked him in the eyes when she spoke and was always honest with the man. He appreciated and respect that very much.
"I was just a girl that no one took seriously." Fiona said, shifting in her seat.
"But you proved them wrong- you proved me wrong." Vito mainly whispered to himself. "I need you to do something for me, Fiona." Vito knew that bringing Fiona back into the job would be different ever since Roberto's death but he needed her.
"I trust you to get the job done, Fiona." Indeed, he did.
"Don Corleone, I know you do. But, I'm not much of a threat anymore." Vito immediately understand what she meant, before, she used to work with Roberto but now that she had to do this alone, as a woman, she might not convince them. But he'd bet everything that Fiona would do the job right anyway.
"I trust you that you'll prove them wrong, figlia." With a nod and a kiss placed on Vito's hand, Fiona left his office after he instructed her what to do.
YOU ARE READING
Don Corleone [Michael Corleone] DISCONTINUED
FanfictionFiona Marino, belonging to an Italian father and a Spanish mother moved to America along with her brother Roberto. Of course they did not move just like that- their father, Antonio Marino had close ties with the Corleone family especially Vito. The...