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Sophia sits next to me once more, pulling my attention back to her. “But now, after losing DadandCara, it’s clear the toll the past year has taken on you.” She reaches out and presses her hand against my cheek, running her fingers across my stubble. The ache in my throat only intensifies as I see the pain in her features. “You need my help, and not just in the sun, but in the shadows too. And yet, you refuse to ask for it.”
“Sophia.” I take her hand in mine, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. “I already lost one sister. I won’t survive losing you too. And I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself, because, deep down, I know you can. After all, I trained you myself. But…Ican’t handle you being a part of this world. And it’s not just because it’s dangerous. What we do is illegal, Sophia. Whether or not we like to admit it, our family’s reign has an expiration date. It will either end in death or in jail.” That’s a lie. Not even jail time can end a reign like ours. But it can make us easier targets for a competing family to take us out. I bite my lip as the image of Sophia’s dead body flashes behind my eyes.
“My secrets are mine. My burdens are mine. So that when it all comes to an end, you can walk away.” Another lie. There is no walking away for either of us. “I’m sorry if that means I’m oppressive and harsh and more of a bodyguard than a brother. But right now, I don’t know how to be anything else.” Finally, the truth.
I release Sophia’s hand and turn away from her, moving my eyes to the security monitor. I search each screen, giving myself enough time to fight off the tears threatening to reveal themselves. In my peripheral vision I see Sophia bury her face in her hands as she rests her elbows on her lap. This is what it means to be the Blood King. Over a century of Amato men have sacrificed love, friendship, honor, everything including their humanity for a greater cause now muddled by greed.
There was a time when illegal work was the only work available to Italian immigrants looking to earn a livable wage. But, more than money, the American Mafia was formed to protect Italian immigrants who were persecuted because they were different than their white counterparts. This racism and elitism was never more prominent than on October 15, 1890, the day my family and our respective organization holds in reverence. On this day, the New Orleans police chief was murdered, execution-style, and eleven Italian men were arrested, one of whom was an Amato. Of all the attention the New York City families receive, this occurrence in our own New Orleans is actually the first event of suspected Mafia activity in the Americas to gain national and international attention. And it’s because of this that when the men accused were acquitted of all charges, a slaughter ensued in which all eleven Italian men were killed.
No one wanted to believe the Italians were innocent. And Hell, maybe they weren’t. But what was meant as a deterrence only cemented the bond of the families who lost loved ones that day. Upon a vote, the Amatos took charge of a new Mafia syndicate in New Orleans and quickly adopted the pseudonym Blood King along with the vow that no more Italian blood would be spilled in the streets of New Orleans under their rule. The Amatos were already a wealthy lot before their sudden rise to royal status shortly after their stateside arrival. Still, what would become of the Amato family,myfamily, was forever changed on that fateful day.
Tapestries of the Amato family crest, once purple and gold, were changed to red and gold to symbolize the blood that had been spilled and the blood all Amato kings swear to protect. One of several custom tapestries hangs on the wood-paneled wall of my office just to my right. Gold-set family jewels from Italy made of rubies and diamonds were embossed with the Amato family crest for all members of the royal household to wear as a symbol of their status and alliance, while a special piece was gifted to the new king, a piece passed down to every king thereafter. The gold-set ring on my right hand is large, heavy, and impossible to miss. In the center of a gold casing that looks like a crown there is a large deep red ruby. Atop it is the Amato crest etched in gold. More pavé rubies cover the sides, working their way between gold plates on which one is the letterAand on the other is the symbol of a crown. This ring represents my power, my position as king. And now, I, like my father and the others before him, must make the ultimate sacrifice to provide for and protect the people under our charge. What no one admits, but I’ve painfully learned, is that anyone who loves the king must also make the ultimate sacrifice.
I know Sophia needs me, me Alister, not me the Blood King. But I don’t know how to be there for her without breaking. And, now more than ever, I have to stay strong and vigilant. This is the second year in a row I will hold the annual meeting of the capos without Cara in attendance. The last thing I can allow is for an ambitious capo to smell blood in the water. If the truth of Cara’s murder gets out, it will mean war—war with our enemies and, possibly, war within our own ranks. That’s why I hesitated to tell Sophia the truth, why I haven’t told anyone else, and why the world believes my sister is studying abroad in Europe. This secret is a burden to all whom carry it, but the truth? The truth will be the death of us.
Sophia stands, drawing my attention. “Wait, Soph…” I reach out, taking hold of her wrist before she can leave. “I…” She’s right. I am struggling, struggling to carry the weight of a one-hundred-year reign, struggling to accept that my sister is gone, that I failed her. But, most of all, I’m suffocating, drowning in hopelessness because there is no escaping this world, this throne, this thing known as the Mafia. I know I should set aside my worry, even if just for a day, and hold her, cry with her, be her brother. But I’ve been caught off guard too many times. I’ve lost too many people to pretend to be normal. Because all it takes is three seconds and one bullet to shatter what’s left of my black heart.
“I love you and I’m sorry I’m not the brother you need right now. I…I hope I find my way back to him one day.”
Sophia pulls her wrist from my grasp. Disappointment flattens her lips and drains the color from her cheeks. “Me too.” At that, she turns and leaves me be with a plate of cold food, a deafening silence, and our sister’s ghost.
2
“Gotta keep up, Ray!”I yell as my feet pound against the gravel jogging path through Audubon Park. It’s a crisp October morning in the Crescent City, free from the humidity I loathe. Slivers of sunlight work their way through the tangled branches of the oaks above me. It warms my skin as I inhale the earthy scent drifting down from the Spanish moss. This is my happy place, myme time, which is why I don’t feel bad about leaving Ray in the dust.
My long brown hair slaps against my back as I run as if a rider’s crop is propelling me farther and faster. Though, as I cross the stone bridge, I slow to take in the green, murky waters below. Birds swoop down, skimming the top of the water for their breakfast, while fathers set up lawn chairs on the bank for a day of teaching their sons how to fish. Every morning it’s the same. The people of the city get away from the brick and mortar in exchange for something simpler, quieter. I guess you could say I’m here for the same reason, to block out all the noise and stress that follows my every move as a member of the Organized Crime Task Force for FBI New Orleans. But, truly, I’m here for something more. I’m here to remember.
Once I make my way to the bottom of the bridge, I hook a left and sprint down the oak-lined alley parallel to the pond. I run as fast as I can, pushing past the ache in my chest and the burn in my legs, until I reach the grassy meadow. My chest heaves as my heart pounds. I lean forward and rest my hands on my knees as the memories return to me.
I can see her with her curly dark hair standing close to the bank. She fluffs a blanket for us to sit on and pulls two sandwiches from her purse. She looks at me with a smile on her face, a smile so beautiful I wonder why I don’t see it more often. Or, at least, I did.Come here, Ariana. It’s time to eat.My mom reaches out to me. The simple motion creates an ache in my chest greater than any run ever could. As a younger version of myself races past me with a bushel of wildflowers in tow, I look away. And like yesterday and the day before that, I lose my mom all over again.
“Thought I’d find you here,” Ray says through ragged breaths. I turn to find him walking the last few steps. His pale face is now bloodshot red, and his blond hair is damp with sweat. “What is it about this spot, huh? I tell you there’s a lot better trails than this one.”
“Yeah, well, it was your choice to tag along.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m just curious. Five years we’ve worked together, and I feel like I barely know you. You love to run, and you love this spot. So, tell me, what’s the story?”
Ray’s blue eyes search mine as I consider how to respond. This is why I don’t have any friends. Why, in the five years I’ve worked for the FBI, I’ve rejected every invite to every party and rebuffed every advance by every coworker, including Ray. I don’t allow people to get close to me, because then they start asking questions. Most of which I don’t have the answers to. And for the ones I do, the answers are too painful to share.
“There’s no story,” I finally say. “And, if there were, I certainly wouldn’t offer it to someone who can’t even beat me in a race.”
“Oh, is that what this was?” Ray asks, eyebrows raised. “Because you see, I was thinking we could call this something else.”
“Let me guess.” A small smirk works its way across my lips as I stretch out my muscles.
“A date.I mean, you are my Valentine after all.” I roll my eyes as Ray, for the millionth time, shoots his shot. When I agreed to let him tag along for my morning runs, I expected him to last one week tops before he finally lost interest. It’s been two months of mornings just like this one and, to my surprise, he hasn’t let up in the slightest. I suppose I don’t mind the company. But the questions and the flirty comments, that I could do without.
“Nice play on words, but you know where I stand. I don’t date coworkers. And besides, why ruin a good thing with a relationship?” I punch his arm as I move past him. It’s not his fault, really. He’s perfectly handsome in that golden boy, wholesome kind of way. And he’s nice, thoughtful, and smart. He’s the kind of guy any girl would be lucky to date or even just be friends with.A friend—I guess he’s the closest I have to one, which makes turning him down a delicate dance.
“Fine. I’ll quit,” he jokes as he jogs to catch up with me.
“Perfect! You know, I’ve been thinking. The world really could use one less intelligence analyst.” I can’t help but smile as Ray takes my sarcasm in stride. Though, his next question steals the easy energy between us.
“You know it’s not the same at the office without you. Any idea when your leave will end?”
“No.” I sigh. “Bilieux made it clear my suspension is indefinite.” I drop my gaze to the gravel as memories of my meltdown flash behind my eyes.
“Are you kidding me? You’re just going to let him go? Give him a year to cover their tracks and rework their entire criminal organization?” I stand with such force my chair tips over. My team watches with wide eyes and parted lips. In five years, they’ve barely seen me smile let alone raise my voice. I take a deep breath and steady myself by pressing my finger into the manila folder sitting on the table before me.
