Twisted Innocence

Chapter One

Amo

Amo 9, Greta 4

'Be diligent, be aware, never allow yourself to be surprised.'

Luca's words were on repeat in his son Amo's head as his family walked into the church. At the age of nine Amo already felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. One day he would be Capo. His father promised it would be a long time until then, but his Uncle Matteo always joked that with their line of work it could truly be any day. Amo was tall for his age, he knew that, and he was grateful for it. His height often intimidated other children which had helped deter him from acting his age. Someone in his position couldn't afford to act like a child.

"In this dress, I'll be the hottest girl at the wedding," Marcella said, making Amo cringe. Ever since his sister had started spending more time with their Aunt Liliana and her girls, Marcella had been acting like she was a grown woman instead of the 12-year-old girl she was. Their mother hushed her as people began to approach them for introductions. 'Be diligent,' Amo told himself, repeating each name in his head as many times as he could. Most of the people he didn't recognize, but some of them his father had been drilling into him for a while. He needed to know not only his men but his enemies as well. The Camorra were their enemies, peace be damned. He had learned very early on that as future Capo, even his own men could be his enemies given the right circumstances.

"Fabi! Leona!" His mother's voice was filled with joy as the man Amo knew must be his uncle approached. Leona held a toddler on her hip, causing his mother to lean forward and express how cute she thought the small girl was.

"It feels like just yesterday when you were this little." She told Amo before trying to ruffle his black hair. Amo quickly sidestepped the affectionate gesture. 'Be aware,' he told himself, knowing that allowing his mother to treat him like a child would keep the men around him from respecting him. He wasn't a little boy anymore. He would be Capo one day. Marcella rolled her eyes as his mother let her hand fall with a saddened look. He hated that look. She gave it to him more often as he began to have more training sessions with his dad. He had gotten a black eye at the gym last month and when he wouldn't let her comfort him she had given him that same dispirited frown. He wanted to let her comfort him, he wanted it more than anything, but a Capo had to be strong.

"Luca," this time the man greeting them was one Amo knew well, Adamo. Amo liked Adamo. They spent a lot of time together when Adamo had spent a year living under the Famiglias territory.

"Look at you Amo, at this rate you'll be taller than your dad before too long." Adamo reached out his hand and he grasped it. Their greeting was cut short by Marcella pushing her way between them.

"Hi Adamo, how much have I changed?" Her question was said in a way that caused their father to pull her back and glare at her. Luca could always tell when his daughter was attempting to flirt. Even when she couldn't see it. Adamo let out a nervous laugh, not sure if he should answer or not.

"Leona saved our seats and the ceremony should be starting soon." Aria gently said with a hand on Luca's chest. Amo watched his parents. He was grateful for his mother's ability to diffuse situations like these. Marcella could take some lessons in subtlety from their mother, but she was more like their aunts and as a result, he had watched their father's gun collection grow larger with each passing year.

The ceremony was boring; Amo knew it would be, but he stayed alert watching everybody and everything. The only moment that was unusual for a wedding ceremony was that when the flower girl came down the aisle, she was not alone. She was holding hands with a boy who wasn't much taller than her. Their stark black hair and matching features left no doubt in his mind that the children were siblings, a boy, and a girl. The girl was wearing a pink dress and seemed to be divided between focusing on her toes and the end of the aisle. The boy seemed to have more confidence than the girl. 'Never allow yourself to be surprised,' Amo thought, but the problem with this situation was that he had been surprised. His sister would never have allowed someone to steal her moment. Had his sister been the flower girl at that age she would have been throwing petals with a beaming smile and soaking up all of the attention.