"Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?"

  -Abraham Lincoln

  And vice-versa.

  - -

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  Francesco was running. Frantically in motion, with no destination. Taking in breaths, air filling his lungs, igniting them with questions that burned within. He decided to get up and run after them, the woman and the man in navy blue. But they vanished in thin air. They were just gone, and it had him questioning everything. Maybe he was hallucinating. No, Lorenzo was dead. He saw it, he saw as he got shot in the shoulder, and he saw as, or at least he could’ve sworn that Dante was involved but someone gave him that finishing blow. At least that is what he thinks he remembers. ‘No,’ he whispers to himself, if there were only one thing he could trust, it would be what he remembers. His mind can’t fail him yet. Not now.

  And Isabella. She was dead. He remembers that all too well.

  “I am so sorry son.” Mr. Marino said giving Frankie a heartfelt hug as he ushered in guests to express their condolences.

  “She was the best of us, Frank. And she loved you,” an aunt uttered, handing him a dish of food.

  “As I loved her,” spoke Frank, stricken with grief, not fully at the moment as his head kept thinking back to the day she told him she was sick.

  He didn’t believe her.

  How could he? Every time he got up she offered him a vitamin, exercised daily, and took those disgusting wheatgrass shots just for the kick of it. How unfair that the most health-conscious was unprepared for the not-so-silent killer. Cancer.

  At that point in his life, he spent all he had on her care. She begged him not to but how could he let his light and love dim due to worldly possessions such as money and cars? So he spent everything, and the doctors gave half promises they couldn’t keep and she left him in this cold place alone.

  The day she slipped away was one of the better ones. She was up smiling and staring in his direction in wonder. “I will miss you,” softly muttered Bella.

  “Don’t say that. You told me you would hold on. You can’t miss me when I am right here.” He reassured squeezing her hand, as her eyes shut in relief riddled with dejection.

  “I’ll try,” she replied squinting. “Can you shut the blinds for me, please? I already have you to light up my world, the sun would be overkill.” She always said that to him when he was down. As he got up to close the window attempting to ease the pain in any way possible, she slept the eternal dream. And as he shook her shoulders and felt for a pulse, he knew it was futile. As quick as it came, his love drifted, and he was alone once more.

  The following months after her death were a nightmare. In the literal sense, he couldn’t catch a minute of sleep without dreaming that everything was a lie, and she would come slithering into bed, assuring him she was alive and well, causing his biggest hope to crush his heart again every night. He felt as if he were grasping at straws, a pawn in someone else’s game.

  So where was his light at the end of the tunnel?

  Just as his flashback came to an end, he thought his prayers were answered. A bright light shone in his direction, closing his eyes to accept his fate as a loud honk emanated in the air.

  “Hey! Get out of the street you wacko!” A cab driver yelled, swerving and throwing his head out of the window. He jumped into a bush to duck the oncoming traffic, losing the trail he had on the two.

  ‘Just great,’ he slumped, sitting on the curb, ‘I lost them, and I am pretty sure I am screwed in the head because I am hallucinating, the two most precious people in my life that are gone. Just great.’

  He got up and dusted his pants, walking in defeat back to his hotel, as the phone in his pocket began ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Salvatore. I think it is best if you come and see me now. I have the answers you are looking for.”

  “Hey, I don’t appreciate you calling me Agent. I am a little busy maybe next time.”

  “I must warn you, you are in a lot of danger.” Urged the Agent, a plea lacing his voice.

  “Well, thank you for the concerns, but everyone in this city is in danger. I have to go now. Bye.” He rushed, hanging up the phone, turning his heel, and heading back to Sylvio’s place.

  - -

  “Francesco. I was expecting you, but not on the same day.”

  “I know. But I have a few questions, and they can’t wait.” He urged shutting the door behind himself.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “You do know the consequences of coming to me for aid? It is a give-and-take business.” Sylvio mentioned before sitting in his seat.

  “Yes, cousin I do. But the questions I have are worth the repercussions.”

  “So you say. You might come to resent me after today. But no regrets are allowed.”

  “Cross my heart,” Frankie gestured.

  “And hope to die,” added Sylvio. “Alright spill your questions and I will give my request.”

  “Just one request? For all my questions, you only want me to do one favor for you?”

  “That’s right. Just one favor. But come on. I have places to be soon. A friend of mine passed away. I am planning the funeral. Got to talk to his loved ones soon.”

  “Wait who died?” Paused Frankie.

  Sylvio gave him a look of displeasure.

  “Right. Well, my first question would be, is Lorenzo really dead?”

  Sylvio straightened his back staring at the man in front of him as if he just insulted his mother or something. “Yes, my boy. Renzo is dead.”

  “How do you know? I mean I was there and I don’t remember him dying. I think.”

  “Looks like you got hit in your head harder than I thought. Francesco, Lorenzo is a dead man. He had enemies, much closer than you think.”

  “Really, like who? I don’t see why anyone would want to kill him. He was a family guy.”

  “People get jealous of simple living the most. It makes them angry to see someone enjoy life in its rawest form. Lorenzo had friends and enemies.” Syl sipped some water. “But why are you asking this?”

  “I just got into a fight,” stated Frankie.

  “I can see that, you look like hell.” Sylvio chuckled.

  “That’s true. But when I was wailing on the guy I got a hold of his mask and I saw that it was Lorenzo.”

  “Okay,” Syl said not fully convinced. “Why were you fighting this guy again?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean I was following this woman.”

  “Oh, a woman. I am surprised. I thought you were still caught up on Bella.”

  “I know. But she was Bella.”

  “Right. So you saw Bella, some guy got mad, and when you got his mask you saw it was Renzo?”

  “Yes. I know that sounds crazy but it’s true.”

  “Okay. I am not one to judge the sick. So what do you want from me?”

  “I need help. This guy or Lorenzo, we fought at the hospital when I first woke up think you can help me find him?” Francesco pleaded. “Or at least the girl. I at least want to confirm I am not hallucinating.”

  “Right because that is a major concern. I will see what I can do. Any more questions?”

  “Yes. What do you know about agent Enzo?”

  “Not much, and by that I mean a lot. He was top at the academy, a stickler for rules, and he has a partner Giani. They are over the narcotics and whatnot department. People who look for guys like us. Why?”

  “No reason. He reached out trying to find answers on the Causo issue at Nico’s. I was wondering if I should just drop it.”

  “I would. Can’t be confusing the Feds as the good guys, they will use any tactic in the book to catch us. So a little word of advice. Stay away from Enzo, kid.”

  “I will. Thank you, Syl.” Frankie got up and walked closer to the door. “Oh, what about your favor?”

  “It’s not much. I want you to go check on my brother for me.”

  “Mr. Marino? I mean why, what’s up.”

  “Nothing. Figured you were avoiding your Father-in-law since the warehouse shooting. But I was told he misses you. He told me to tell you to reach out and stop by the joint.”

  “Alright. I mean I would have done that regardless, I've just been a bit busy, you know?”

  “Right, well it is nice seeing you, Frankie. I got to go now.”

  “Oh yeah, Sylvio. I forgot, who died again?” he asked, grabbing his coat off the rack.

  Sylvio held a gun to the back of Francesco’s head and pulled the trigger. A loud bang rattled the hallway, blood splattering in an almost whimsical fashion amongst the paint. Frankie’s body slumped to the ground as Sylvio stepped back.

  “You did.”

  - -

  “Dante. It’s done. Don’t ask me to do anything like this again, I don’t like getting my hands dirty. Or my walls.” Sylvio spat into the phone, disgusted by the sight in front of him.

  “Sorry Uncle I won’t. Dad says hello by the way.”

  “Tell your father he is a letdown to this family. A man like him should die along with Francesco. At least Frankie was honorable. He can take his hellos and shove them elsewhere.”

  “You know I can’t say that to him, Uncle.”

  “Like father like son. Bunch of wusses.” Sylvio sat in his chair lighting a cigar in the meantime. “Send someone to clean this mess up.”

  Dante dialed Dio. “He’s at Sylvio’s. I would come to get him before the police do. Local Feds love spreading rumors.”

  “Thank you for murdering my life’s work, Dante.”

  “Whatever. If you did your experiments right, he wouldn’t be so close to finding out the truth. No would he? Some scientist.” Dante mentioned.

  Dio chuckled amused with the wittiness of his counterpart on the phone.

  “Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Marino.”