19 | defence

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| Alessia |

"My father died on the 7th of March 1969, seven hours before my eighteenth birthday

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"My father died on the 7th of March 1969, seven hours before my eighteenth birthday. For exactly seven hours, the Famiglia had no leader. My men fought in a war without anyone officially standing behind them.

"When you usually take over, there's a ceremony, a massive feast where you're declared the Don. You'll see how it goes when Alessandro takes over.

"I, however, was thrown straight into the worst possible situation. Of course, I was brought up in that environment and have seen people die since I was five years old. But back then, these lives were not my responsibility, and within a second, they were. I stood in a room with my consiglieres and top soldiers and looked at the lifeless bodies on my property.

"At that time, no one believed in me, and frankly, I couldn't blame them. I had been prepared my whole life for that moment, but at that moment, I was just a young man.

"But I won. I won, avenged my father, my mother, my sister, and all for one reason. Loyalty. My men may not have believed in me in the beginning, but out of Loyalty, they fought for me."

Arcangelo turned away from the window and sat down on the chair behind the desk. He pushed a paper with an Italian text in an old German script towards me.

"What is this?"

"Take your time," he said, and I read the paper slowly. Omertà stood at the top of the paper, and in summary, it said that the punishment for betrayal was death. I could feel Arcangelo's stern gaze on me and didn't hesitate to sign and slide it back to him.

"Don't get too comfortable just because you carry our last name, capito?"

"Capìre," I answered and waited for him to dismiss me, which he didn't, so I did it myself.

"I'll leave now," I said as I slowly got up. He didn't answer but kept observing me, and I could still feel his gaze on my back as I left the room.

I entered Pietro's room without knocking to let him taste what it felt like, but he didn't mind. He laid his bed, and I sat down next to him. He, however, kept his focus on his phone.

"I just signed Omertà," I told him, but he started laughing.

"Who would give you that to sign?"

"Your Grandfather."

His expression suddenly became serious. "You realize that you committed yourself to shooting six people within a minute, and if you don't succeed, we have to rip your heart out," he said, leaving me shocked for a second.

"I know you're fucking with me," I stated.

"Do you?" he asked back, but I could see the smirk forming on his face.

• • • •

For the first time since I lived here, I dressed properly for dinner, and only because of their grandfather. Otherwise, I always appeared in either sweatpants or pyjamas. I even went downstairs a bit earlier to be on time.

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