The Secret Mafia

Chapter 4

CRV'S POV

I had a certain disdain for water.

It's not deliberate or my typical aversion for anything and everything.

I just always found it unnerving. Everything should be in moderation. I mean, why is there a need for an immense expanse of unwieldy liquid monstrousity in the first place?

If there's one way I'd very much dread to go, it will certainly be death by drowning.

I couldn't swim since five and now, I still can't swim.

My greatest weakness. I know, that's despicable. I heard it a lot.

Although I had once made an attempt to put an inevitable end to my mundane life by plummeting headfirst into the mansion's pool when I was four.

I failed obviously.

Sometimes I really wished I had the ability to overcome such an unreasonable fear, for example, all those times my father would lay me in my rumb and give my arse a good thrashing for not cooperating with my personal swim coach when I was a puny toddler.

I was delusional to think I was going to be able to surpass my fear then and maybe, make papa proud.

What a fool.

Back to now, staring into the unending deep blue abyss shimmering through the hot reflection of the sun, I resign myself to the fact that this fear will forever hold sway over me. I sigh in defeat, eyeing the daunting yacht moored at the docks.

I sighed in defeat, staring at the wanton beast perched by the docks.

"Il dolore del marinaio"

(Sailor's sorrow)

"Remind me again why we can't take the chopper?" I said as I stared at the enormous water body before me with a spectacularly designed yacht tethered to the docks.

"A chopper won't be okay for the drop— I mean meeting point" my ever aloof bodyguard answered.

"Uh,uhn...and why is that?" I asked with one of my eye brows raised questioningly.

"It isn't necessary plus, the more attention from the pigs that we can evade, the better"

He was right.

Port authorities were much better than the goddamn Air Force.

Regardless of the magnificent influence we hold in the Heirarchy of Italy, we were still just slightly within the law's grasp and many cops were looking to a nobel prize for taking down the top echelons of the society.

A chopper would call their attention to us and some may even me foolish enough to stage an ambush.

Before you know it, guns blood and goddamn case in court, which will end of costing us unnecessary millions of Benjamin Franklin for the jury.

A chopper would exercebate matters needlessly.

While squinting through his ford sunglasses at his Gucci watch, Fernando interjects,

"Now boss, por favore, get on the yacht and stop acting like a bambiná about it"

(Baby)

I don't know why but I had to burst into a fit of laughter at what he said.

"That's funny...yy...ah...ah...ah" I just couldn't hold it in. My father's death seems to have warmed its way into my heart and now I feel a sense of relief somehow, even though his killer was still in the loose and apparently, in my shadows.