By Sin We Fall

Chapter Eight

Amo

The summer brought in shitty weather to the city. It was a constant humid, raining smog of misery. From above, though, in the clouds. The dark weather cleared out of frame to allow me to gaze upon what was mine. An unobstructed view of my reigning land. New York City. "Sir? We still have the upstairs to go over..." I held up my hand silencing him. "I'm taking in the view, Ron, give me a moment." I was standing in the rubble that was my soon to be apartment. It was an apartment built for a Capo, built for a man who deserved that title. It was in the highest most exclusive high-rises, at least three blocks away from my family. Thank god. At sixteen I was initiated in with the lowest rung of soldiers. My father had told me I had to earn my spot in the Famiglia, earn respect for my destined title. I had to work my way up to my birthright. That apparently meant sleeping in a tiny dorm with two other snoring guys. All those sleepless nights, all I could think about was this place. Having a place that was mine. Not my family's, not renting from anybody, a place that was truly my own. I started moving up the ranks, I started earning more respect and trust to hold my own weight. To be a true strong representation of the name Vitiello. I was ready to take over. But another thing a Capo needed in this traditional reign was a wife, which meant marriage, which meant roadblock. I somehow forgot that little fact every time I went into a design review, the fact someone else would be living with me in this space at some point. I had designed the whole apartment to my needs. It was a bachelor's pad, no woman would ever want to live here. My phone rang ruining my inner monolog. The building manager strained his face so as to not roll his eyes. "What is it, Marco? You're ruining a moment." I answered the phone. "Ah, of course, I just wanted to let you know we're scheduled to have dinner with Kurik at eight tonight, the usual place." Robinson Kurik, not only would I have to go on my courteous date with one of my prospective future wives tomorrow but also endure a dinner with the previous mayor. Both were very strenuous events that included me getting into a suit and trying not to fuck anything up. After having some disagreements with the new mayor, who had no trouble taking us up on our offer of getting him into office. Now that he was in he thought he could drop us and go on his merry way. I smiled at his naivety in that statement, like he was the first guy to think of that. He would have a short fall to the reality of the inner workings of New York. We'd been in this city longer than any politician. Robinson was a pain in the ass but at least he took commands easily and left us alone. I forgot why we got rid of him in the first place besides his ever present cheerful nature. Not that I detested happy people. I didn't like fake happy people who Robinson definitely was; he had no trouble smiling to cameras and talking about injustices. But the man had a dark past that was neatly tucked away. I respected people who held their true nature proudly, not hide behind it in fear of retaliation. People in this city always had secrets hidden in the dark shadows, but we lived in the shadows and were the gatekeepers of secrets. Deciding which ones would be let free into the light and which ones to keep hidden for our own power. People were forever indebted to us for this reason but only we knew that we were only looking out for ourselves. For the plan to work we needed a backup to take over after the fall. That's when Kurik comes in. Easy enough except Kurik has already been running his mouth too much giving me second thoughts about his candidacy. Lucky for him everyone else seemed just as detestable, we were choosing the lesser evil. That was never much fun in my experience. "Is that all?" I asked, noticing something in the ceiling that wasn't right. "Still nothing from Las Vegas since our last attack, quite suspicious if you ask me, do you think they're planning something big?" The Camorra had the attention span of a golden retriever. I didn't think the bunch was capable of thinking long term. Especially with Remo calling the shots. "There has to be something else going on. Keep our defenses up though, I can't deal with the casualties of another of their temper tantrums." Nevio Falcone was young, reckless and thought he was the greatest on earth. The only direction to go from that point was a steep shot down. Nevio searched to provoke anybody in his path out of boredom. It would be his downfall and I would have front row seats to witness it. Through all his big talk Nevio was still a boy. He and his father had the same disposition but Nevio didn't climb through the grit to earn his title. He was entitled and knew it. In his youth his reputation was shaky, few in the Camorra saw him fit for the role as a future Capo. His throne to the West coast was cemented when he went from a pestering hot tempered boy to a loyal proud mafia man at twelve. He gained recognition and approval when he killed his first man at gunpoint, saving his twin sister in the killing. It earned him his respect back. It was seen as heroic and selfless for the first killing being protecting someone he was meant to protect. Loyalty he held to his family. Since then his twin sister vanished, never to show her face again. I ended the call with Marco, checking my calendar on my phone. "Ron the ceiling light to the right is two inches off." It was the most minute of things but an eyesore from the carefully laid out floor plans I'd reviewed too many times. This was much more than an apartment for me, it was a cresting of a dream coming into fruition. A dream I have been planning since I was ten. Everything was coming into place and there would be no slip ups along the way. "We have already finished electrical up there, it's gonna be expensive to move it and it'll delay the floor installation..." "Well since I never entailed the light being there I expect it to be pro bono.'' I looked up from my phone seeing utter annoyance on the man's face. "I can't make the time today for upstairs, let's reschedule that for tomorrow and you can have the light relocation plan set up by then." "I didn't take you for being quite the perfectionist Mr. Vitiello." "Not only a perfectionist but an impatient one, get the plan into motion, Ron." I walked out of the building into the humid polluted air of the inner city. The word on the street was that Greta Falcone was shipped off to a boarding school in England. Although Remo created an obnoxiously large presence for himself in the media, his family was shrouded in secrecy. That included no information about his only daughter except that from her youth. Unlike the Famiglia and the Outfit, whose family presence was a social obligation for events and media. The Camorra did not comply with those standards. The Falcones were a weird bunch but it was my job to know the enemy.