La Donna

Two

Adam and I walked arm-in-arm down the streets of New York City after getting dinner at one of my cousin Luca's spots in downtown. We made small talk as the crisp mid-December wind blew by us.
"What about Jimmy Stewart?" My fiancé asked.
"He's alright, for the movies, but I like you more." I kissed his cheek.
"Bennie," The conversation halted as his eyes landed on a newstand behind me. "Oh," He quaked. I turned to see newspapers with the words:

BOSS VICARI HIT

DON MARIO VICARI SHOT

MARIO VICARI LEFT IN STREET AFTER SHOOT-OUT

My heart sank into the sewers beneath my feet as my eyes grazed over the newstand. I tore open one of the papers to read that my father had been shot by some rival pawns earlier in the day. This couldn't be true! It's all some free press bullshit! I dropped the newspaper and ran down the street to a nearby telephone booth. I had to call Gianni. He would know what's going on. The whole world felt like it was caving in on me and my fingers couldn't dial fast enough.

"Hello." Gianni answered after the second ring.
"Gianni, it's Bennie. What's going on? How's Daddy?" I spoke frantically.
"Ben, come home and stay with Ma tonight. I'll explain everything when you get here. I'm gonna send a car to come pick you up in front of Radio City." His tone was cool and low. A click followed and then the line hummed. He hung up on me. I stepped out of the phonebooth and told Adam to get to the apartment.
"Do you want me to go with you?" He asked.
"Don't ask questions, Adam. Just get back to the apartment and I'll call you when I can." I kissed him goodbye and then hailed a cab.

"Radio City Music Hall." I noted calmly to the driver. Everything within me was riddled with guilt for leaving Adam on the street like that. I can't afford to get him wrapped up in this. He's a good man. An honest man. An American war-hero. I didn't know if he was watching the cab drive off because I didn't look back. If I did, then that meant I was second-guessing. A Vicari never second-guesses.

[...]

I walked into the house to see my father's long time friend, Enzo Mancini appearing at the top of the staircase. His large stature cast an even larger on the wall behind him. The light sat on top of his balding hair and stopped right before his Roman brow. I should note that Enzo Mancini was the weapons man in my father's circle. Any kind of gun you needed, he could procure and get it to you that same day. For as good as he was with a gun, he was fantastic with a wooden spoon. His cooking could rival my mother's. Mancini was only good in the kitchen for one reason: He never touched a weapon on a Sunday. Sunday was the Lord's day of rest, so that gave him time to perfect his marinara recipe.
He was my father's oldest friend and was made Olivia's godfather when she was baptised. It's fair to say that Enzo's basically family.

"Benedetta, Gianni needs you up here." He motioned for me to come up. A man with a shadow bigger than him is always listened to and feared. "Your mother, brother, and sister at at the hospital. It sounds like your father's gonna come out of this alive." He relayed the information I desparately needed to hear.

I followed him into my father's office to see my oldest brother relaxed on the leather sofa with Rick Young, Daddy's lawyer, Nino Francese across from them, and Horace DiRosso to Nino's left. They were all muttering about conspiracies made against Daddy.

"Hey, Ben," Gianni stood up and patted my shoulder. "Take a seat over by the phone." He gestured to the open chair in front of my father's desk.
"If Leo sold out to Ludovico, then we're in deep shit."  Rick kept the conversation going.

Leo Grazio was a pawn. He just wanted to climb up higher in the family's ranks. And that meant he'd do anything for my father. I heard he carried out an order just because my father mentioned it in passing. As for Ludovico: Frederico Ludovico was a rival boss who wasn't shy about anything. The complete opposite of my father. Ludovico didn't care for modesty; he did as he pleased and didn't care who knew. Daddy tried to be as civil as possible with everyone. A basic respect he paid to his fellow bosses, but Ludovico was quick to spit in his face. If that man didn't like you, then you might as well be dead.