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Authors: S. W. Frank

BOOK: Anarchy
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Occasionally, he
spoke
with
Giuseppe but ha
d
not returned to Italy
si
nce the day of his uncle’s funeral.
He
returned
the
case
to his son, “I think
it’s
best you leave
it here
. You might lose it.”

“But…but
..
.”

“No but’s Sal, leave it home.”

The boy pouted and tossed the
case
on the sofa, “Fine…but I wanted to show
it to
Manny
because it’s cool
!”

Alfonzo frowned disapprovingly at his son’s behavior, “Pick it up hijo and take it upstairs, ahora!”

The boy grabbed the box from the sofa and ran upstairs stomping loudly on the way then returned sulking. Alfonzo gave him a get your act together glare and the boy went to his mother.

“I wanted to show Manny
my watch mommy.

Selange cleared her throat
, h
er voice
small and
weak, “Sweetheart, listen to daddy. That’s a very special watch and if you lose it we can’t replace it. It’s very valuable. Okay?”

Sal’s sour mood cleared at this explanation and he nodded, “Okay mom.”

“Have fun at Disney
lan
d sweetie,
I’ll miss you
,

then
t
hey hugged.

Alfonzo stood
, anxious to get the boy to
the airport
so he could
take
care
of
his wife
. He appreciated
Selange’s
interference
but the boy required a firm hand
.
He was
stubborn and opinionated
; t
raits inherited from his
old man
.
He took hold of the small suitcase and
quickly
ushered
Sal to
the door looking over his shoulder at
Selange
.
She was his rock
;
the center of his world
and seeing her in distress cut at his heart.
“Get dressed
because w
hen I
come
back
we’re going
to the doctor.
No debates!

The moment he stepped outdoors
the Saturday morning warmth enveloped him
. He
blocked Sal with his body,
an instinctive
an
d
precautionary action. There were dangers associated with having mob affiliates, whether you’re in the life or not. At any
moment
someone
could
decide you

r
e a liability and you’d never know death was coming. Part of staying alive,
meant being vigilant, and not forgetting, everyone has at least one enemy.

Alfonzo, proceeded down the stairs, chin up, eyes discreetly scanning cars and windows.
He always had this gut feeling
he was under surveillance. He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary
, yet
somehow
he knew there were
eyes trained
in his direction.
They were
ghost
s
in the fog
, u
nseen, yet present nonetheless. He would be a foolish man not to think
t
he O
CTF,
DEA, FBI, IRS and every goddamn acronym imaginable
were
n’t
watching.
They
weren’t convinced of
his abstention from the syndicate, so they waited. Among the watchers, hidden beneath cloaks of invisibility were the shadows
sent by Alberti
.

Last year
he ordered Alberti to
cut the cord
,
he agreed –but Alfonzo wondered if the old man
disobeyed. Normalcy didn’t include the company of
mafia soldiers
everywhere he
traveled with his family. He needed freedom to move about, space to breathe without feeling suffocated by reminders of his bloodline
.
 
T
he joy
s
of his life w
ere his family and t
hey deserved normal
cy. He wanted desperately
to
provide it;
he had to try
!

 

 

 

 

Dominick
Fiorello
walked leisurely toward the church
surrounded by his henchmen. D
rips of water f
ell from the
afternoon
sky
atop his
new
fedora. Wisps of black scurried by, nodding and giving perfunctory condolences as they rushed to
get out of the rain.
His thoughts were not of his deceased wife lying inside the
old
Catholic church but of another, Alfonzo Diaz.

The International Board of Directors
were
extinct
,
k
illed in a mysterious fire during
a clandestine
meeting
in Italy
two
year
s
ago.
Since then Alfonzo Diaz
kept a low-profile
upon his
return to the states. Rumors whispered in secluded rooms were the young outsider
turned
away
from
the life.
Dominick found this hard to believe.
Who but a fool would relinquish such power for anonymity?

After the deaths
of the IBD
many mob families sought to exert their presence
in Europe
and
a
power
struggle
beg
a
n
. However,
Giuseppe
Dichenzo
ended
it a
bruptly
and violently
.
The young man
was
definitely
his father’s son
. As reigning
Capo of the
Dichenzo
clan his allies were many and stretched beyond the shores of Italy here to America. The
feared
Capo
settled
dispute
s
by wiping out dissenters with a bloody fist and rewarding
allies
with access to an international market
. He cared nothing about the American troubles and failed to intervene when the feds
clamped down on their businesses. Yet, n
one of the
American
families wanted
war
with Giuseppe. T
he
ir
fear
s were not only of
financial
ruin but death.

As a sign of
fealty
to the powerful Italian Don, the American
families
issued an
ordine
untouchable
for his cousin
and as
a result
,
under th
e
decree
Alfonzo Diaz
was
off-limits. The young man
could walk the streets,
gamble at their casinos,
eat at their restaurants, fuck their women and none in the mafia
dare touch him.

Dominick agreed to the dictum despite his true feelings on the matter but he was no fool. In order to attain his
goal he would play the game until he was in position to reveal his hand.
Every move he made brought him closer to his objective. Within the
American, Canadian and Australian
syndicate his power grew. Soon, he’
d be calling the shots and not some
arrogant brute
who
considered power
a
birthright!

                         The quiet room of mourners turned when he entered. He removed his hat
, genuflected to make
the sign of the cross
then
stroll
ed
down the long carpeted aisle to the front pew. The room was silent and he could feel the curious eyes of the assembled on his neck.
The priest
looked scathingly in his direction
then continued with the eulogy
. A
fter ten minutes the funeral for his pill popping wife concluded
. H
e accepted condolences from high ranking representatives with a curt, “Thank you.”

In the hours which followed he could not think of anything
other
than how grateful he was to be rid of Frank’s tainted family
lineage
to begin anew. Once
his wife was interred
in the family plot
with the rest of her bunch
he
went
home
to
celebrate with
a drink
.
After thirteen
long
years he was
finally
free. As
Don
Fiorello
he no longer answered to
anyone’s
beck and call, except perhaps t
he influential Giuseppe
Dichenzo
. However, very soon
he expected
this
to
c
hange.

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