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I nod. “They do; but the cops will be waiting when we’re done.”
“Then we pay off the cops!” He bellows aggressively, waving his arms in the air. His face is red. His eyes are slitted. “I don’t care what we have to do!”
“Fine!” I shoot back. “I’ll get looked at by the nurse! But so will you!!”
And then just as soon as he gets in an uproar, he settles down. There’s what looks like a small look of realization that hits him and almost gravely, his eyes lower. “Madam Rosa…” he whispers. “Tony’s mom…She’s dead?”
“Yes,” I reply, curtly, not really wanting to talk about it. Not only did I worry for Tony, and worry for the Giordio’s retaliation, but I also felt my own despair when it came down to it.
“I’m sorry to hear that…” Alessandro says it, but there’s no emotion in his voice. He’s polite, sure… But there’s no shock. No sadness.
I close my eyes and cough. I don’t want him to be desensitized to death like this. He can’t be. This world can’t destroy him like that. Because the sooner he becomes desensitized, the sooner he’ll be ok sacrificing his men for whatever gain he sees up ahead. That’s not a good boss. And treating your family with loyalty, respect, honor, and care is what sets us apart from the rest of the thugs in Chicago.
If I can care about someone’s death that I hated… that’s saying something.
Seeing her laying there … it broke me…
Why? Why was I worried about Madam Rosa’s death so much?
Because it reminded me of all those that I had lost. As I watched her writhe on the ground in pain, the light fading from her eyes, I was overcome with so much grief. I was immediately launched into memories of Gabriele and Edoardo. Their deaths.
How they made me feel…
And maybe I needed that reminder, too. How terrible death is…
How much it hurts…
"Aria..."
That voice sounds so familiar. Too familiar. I knew that voice- I love that voice. So much...so, so much...
"Edoardo?" I try to call as loud as I can, but another voice replaces it.
“He’s in a better place…” a woman’s voice echos.
I can’t quite agree with that sentiment. There’s no beauty in any of this. There’s no better place.
The best place was at home; with his family.
“Fuck you…” I say to her. “That’s my life laying in that bed…”
My everything…
The father to my children.
How am I going to look them in the face every day and not see him? How am I going to look at them and not feel pain?
I can feel myself losing control.
My body was screaming for relief.
But there was none to be had.
Edoardo was dead…
“Aria..." The same voice sounds out again. Edoardo’s voice.
“Edoardo?”
