The Grimaldis' Downfall

Chapter 1

Vito

2008

The first signs of winter had already shown themselves. The clocks were striking five in the afternoon and the row of streetlamps got turned on, allowing Vito to see in the dark. Streets were clad in white snow, shoe marks being left behind under Vito's weight as he continued walking home. His cheeks and the tip of his ears were scarlet, the icy wind nipping at them.

Should have brought a scarf with me.

Vito upped his pace by a notch and saw his home as soon as he rounded the corner. The lights in the kitchen were on, letting him know that his mother was behind the stove. His eyes shifted from the house to two arguing men across the street. He only knew one of them; his father.

What are they doing out here? A talk in this fucking weather? They probably can't even feel their goddamn fingers.

When the stranger gripped his father by his coat, Vito changed directions. He stepped away from the house and strode to them. Vito gave the man a taste of his own medicine by ripping him off his father and invading his personal space.

''What do you think you're doing?'' Vito had to look up as the stranger was slightly taller.

His father immediately latched onto his shoulders and pulled him off the lanky man. With an arched brow, Vito turned to his father, wondering why he had done so.

''Don't do that, Vito.'' Toni planted himself in between the man and his son. ''You don't even know who he is,'' he muttered.

''Do not ever speak like that about my boss again, Toni.'' Harsh creases formed between the man's brows. ''I only came here to remind you that you have to pay him back by the end of the week. If you can't make it...well, you know the interest rates.''

''No, I understand.''

''I'd hate for anyone's feelings to get hurt.'' The dark-haired man propped his hand on the hip. The long coat got slightly pushed back, revealing a gun.

The stranger did not wait for a reply and turned his back to them. Before getting inside the car, his dark eyes flit from Toni to Vito, imprinting their faces in his memory and drove away.

''What was all that about?'' Vito asked.

''I should be asking you what has happened to your face.''

A bruise had begun forming on Vito's cheek. He looked the other way, trying to escape his father's inspecting gaze.

''How did you get– Or let me guess, another fight?''

''Can we have this conversation inside?'' Vito sighed, the cold air making his breath visible.

''No.''

Vito didn't try convincing his father since he knew how stubborn the old man could be. He crossed his arm, keeping the warmth to his body and began explaining.

''There was this girl and a guy tried making a move on her. She didn't seem to be interested in his advances – not to me at least – and since it was already dark and empty, I figured I should help her. So I-''

''And where did this take place?''

''Near the bus stop. As I was saying, I stepped in. She escaped. He got mad at me and hit me. I beat him up. End of story.''

Thinking back on it, I probably should've called the cops. Or I just as easily could have made a bluff about calling them.

''I'm usually not happy with you constantly getting into fights but you did good this time.'' Toni slapped his son on the back, feeling as proud as a peacock.

Vito nodded his chin toward the house. ''Can we go now? Or do you want to talk some more?''

Toni let out a hearty laugh and the two headed home with hurried steps. The second they entered, Toni's spectacles got foggy due to the change in temperature.

There was a trampling of feet to be heard, making Vito look up. The youngest member of the Grimaldi family came charging into the small hallway at the arrival of his brother.

''What have you been up to, Romeo?'' Vito ruffled his hair brown hair up.

Romeo hissed at his brother's cold touch and matted his hair down. ''I beat Mom in checkers!''

Vito doubted his kid brother actually beat his mother as she was more or less an uncrowned queen in the game. Nevertheless, praised Romeo on the achievement. Without getting a chance to take off his coat, Romeo dragged him along to the living room.

''And look I got the highest grade in my class!'' Romeo showed Vito the paper test.

Toni plucked the paper out of Romeo's hands. ''That's my son!''

The boy's eyes sparkled, a grin playing on his face. Romeo watched his brother, waiting for Vito to praise him as well. Out of everyone, the ten-year-old valued Vito's words the most as he looked up to him.

''Is this the test you told me about the other day?'' Vito looked at the paper. ''I knew you would do good.'' He smiled, the bruise hurting. ''Have you shown it to the others?''

''Nope.''

''Why not?''

Romeo shrugged as if there was no particular reason behind it. He wanted Vito to be the first one to see the grade but didn't voice it, a shy blush appearing on his cheeks.

''You have a bruise on your face.'' Romeo pointed out.

Vito's hand shot up. ''I know. I should put some ice.''

''I'll go show it to Graziano!'' The boy took the test out of his father's hand and ran upstairs.

''I don't know where that kid gets his energy from.'' Toni chuckled.

''You never answered me.'' Vito got out of the coat, tossed it onto a chair and narrowed his eyes at Toni. ''Who is that guy? And-'' He stepped closer and lowered the volume of his voice, not wanting his mother and brothers to overhear them. ''-the gun? What was that supposed to mean?''

''He's a nobody. Forget about it.''

''I'm not going to unless I get amnesia,'' he drawled.

Both of them stood right in front of each other. One would say there was a mirror placed in the middle. The father-son duo had a striking resemblance to each other. Same height and build. Hair as black as coal. Mesmerizing emerald-coloured eyes. Even their demeanour was the same.

''You're too stubborn sometimes.''

''Why do you owe him money?''

''Not him. His boss.'' Toni corrected and shook his head. ''It's none of your concern, Vito. You have to focus on your studies. Not on things like these.'' He began climbing the stairs. ''And get that ice. Unless you want it to be purple tomorrow.''

''You're going to walk away?'' He scoffed.

''Ice, Vito!''

He walked over to the couch and dropped himself on it. His head was thrown back, eyes stared at the white ceiling for as much as fifteen long minutes. Vito pressed his fingers against his eyelids and brought them closer, pinching the bridge of his nose.

His thoughts dragged him back to what happened moments earlier.

Dad has gotten himself into an ordeal where the law plays no role. Money and interest rates. I'm guessing those rates are nothing to joke about.

I don't even want to believe it.

''Why in the world would he need to borrow money?''

And out of all people he had to get it from a goddamn loan shark.