Page 142 of Unravel Me

So no, not just some ordinary soldati who went rogue. He’s basically fucking mafia royalty!

That’s because all of his brothers, along with Ennio, were adopted by the recently arrested capo, Anzo Ferro, making all five of them his sons…

According to the official news, Anzo adopted them after their parents were killed by the Russian Mafia, leaving the children orphaned.

But one news blog reveals a lot more, directly suggesting that Anzo was actually responsible for the deaths of not only his two older brothers, Tito and Paolo, but also their elderly father, who had been the previous capo!

Apparently Anzo shamelessly convinced the world he was innocent, then nobly raised his nephews as his more or less loyal successors…

The newspapers sympathetic to the mafia write admiringly about how he stepped up after the tragedy that had befallen these five boys, and how, concerned for their safety, he graciously took over the role of capo, becoming the first beta capo in the history of the mafia.

But there’s another version, one that tells a completely different story, and according to it, Anzo is a monster, another in a long line of brutal and depraved capos.

The whole family was full of psychos.

Anzo’s own brothers, Tito and Paolo, egged on by their depraved father, capo Angelo, abused and humiliated him, and Anzo eventually took his revenge years later, killing them all.

What a picture-perfect family!

For some reason, I’m keen to believe this version of events, mostly because Mauro mentioned seeing his parents die and then being given a drug to erase his memories. It strangely fits this picture.

Well. The mafia is a breeding ground for monsters: Angelo, Tito, Paolo, Anzo, Rocco.

Nothing gets settled amicably there. They shoot people in the head. When someone crosses them, the revenge is vicious.

I know that much myself. After all Rocco planned to kill me because he wanted revenge on the guys from the Ring. So that’s the mafia way.

Revenge, kill, eliminate.

Next one, please!

As I read through the articles, I also discover that Mauro is almost exactly my age. He’s precisely eight months older than me, which means he’s already twenty-six.

He is the third son of Paolo Ferro and Aldo Santoro, and he’s been fighting in underground cages since he was a teenager. For two years, he also held the title of champion in his weight class.

Well, what did I expect? Just another thing to add to the collection of just peachy facts about him.

Mauro spent years practicing a brutal sport. Apparently, he’s pretty deeply involved in that whole world, just like all his brothers, who either fight in cages too or have done so in the past. An entire family of people who make their living through violence…

I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand and stare blankly through the rain-soaked windows of the car.

In a way, I understand why Mauro didn’t tell me who he was.

I also understand why he sent me that letter, the one that expected nothing from me, because he would have had to be insane to expect me to react well after seeing the name "Mauro Ferro" at the bottom of the page.

At the time, dumping Mark for a guy who was Rocco’s brother would have been an absolute impossibility for me. I guess Mauro correctly sensed this.

I start the engine and drive another dozen or so kilometers, struggling with my emotions and—

On the one hand, I’m furious, but… if I want to be fair, I also have to give it to him: Mauro never came to me and said, "Hey, be with me!"

I’m the one who came to him!

I stop again and bury myself in the articles.

This is getting ridiculous, and I’m pretty sure I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I’m all over the place: hating him, missing him, being angry with him, and still fucking hungry for him.

The weather is getting better, but I’m still a long way from home, and at this pace, making constant stops, it’s going to take me a while to get back.