Page 149 of Unravel Me

I pull a disgusted, contemptuous grimace, just so he knows exactly what I think of his sentimental, fucking idiotic bullshit.

But his eyes are fixed on me, and that fucking magic of his makes my mind falter, even if only slightly, because I’m immune to his stupid magic. Mostly. A part of me trembles faintly, and the memory comes back. Against my will.

Tito…

When he first took me to those men and said that to make someone, you first have to break him, I didn’t understand what he meant, but I think Tito was right in the end. There’s a deep wisdom in that. Yes, he had to break me; he promised me strength and resilience in return once I grew up. He had to weed that sobbing, feeble little boy out of me and replace him with a made man, a mafia man. And it’s a good thing he did, because I was pathetic.

As a child, it was hard for me to understand why I had to be handed over to those men one after another; back then, I fought against it, but now I don’t care about the past anymore. Screw it all.

Silvio watches my face, his head tilted, forcing me to go back into the past, the fucker.

Yeah. I remember him, his warm hand holding mine as we walked through the garden, among the flower beds…

"No!" I growl.

I have no desire to reminisce about the time before Tito took me to them. It is what it is. No more crying, that’s for weaklings. Tito taught me that.

But Granddad keeps talking.

"I had planted additional varieties of snapdragons especially for you because I knew how much joy they brought you. The next day, I came into the garden and saw that every single one of them had been trampled and broken on the ground…"

He smiles sadly.

"That was when I knew that something had changed and couldn’t be undone. It may have been a small thing, but it was like the first sign of the coming winter…"

"I’m still waiting for your point, Granddad, because I’m getting more and more bored…" I roll my eyes. This sentimental old man pisses me off, dragging up some bullshit from a time that means nothing.

Then Renato starts talking, "He chose you as his successor and decided to mold you the same way his own father had molded him. Your brothers, however, were left alone to grow up like normal kids. You weren’t. It had to hurt so much. But do you know why your parents gave you to Tito?"

I pretend to yawn again. My heart starts to throb, and I fight the temptation to rub my temples hard. I don’t want to think about it. I’m not a victim, I’m a victor, and he won’t change that!

Those two old fucks are shoving their bullshit into my head, thinking their fucking magic is going to make any difference, but they’re in for a surprise.

"Because you were the price your parents had to pay to be released from their obligations to the mafia. To live a normal life. If they hadn’t given you to Tito, all your brothers would have had to go through what you went through. So they sacrificed one for the other three."

I start to fake another yawn, but I’m no longer in the mood for it. I feel anger, immense rage, and it’s becoming harder and harder to keep it under control.

No, fuck, no. I won’t be talking about the past anymore. I learned to shove all my feelings deep inside what I call my Shadow.

The pathetic weakling I trapped inside me, lurking in the depths of my mind, scratching at my subconscious with his doubts every time I did something Tito would have been proud of.

Shadow.

Who now listens to them, feeding on Silvio’s crap stories.

The stupid remnant of my conscience, which I had fought so successfully for the past twenty years that his voice had become nothing more than a faint echo, almost impossible to recognize.

"You need to know that’s why we cut Aldo off, disowned him. Because he gave you, our grandson, up to be sacrificed instead of looking for another way. He could have run away with all of you to the other side of the world. We never accepted what was done to you. We want you to know that, Rocco."

Instead of listening to Silvio’s mumbles, I pick up my gun and casually toy with it as I say, "Well, my parents did it the right way, buying their freedom from the mafia. Good for them."

"But was it good for you?" Renato says quietly.

"Can’t complain. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if not for Tito. But back to the point. My dear brother Mauro didn’t properly ask to be released from his mafia obligations like our parents did. He left our family without permission. I came here to punish him, and you’re standing in my way."

"And we will, or at the very least, we’ll do everything we can to stop you."

The next moment, my uncle’s body changes, glowing with a green light.