The Mafia's Crazy Obsession

ears

ny, I

la

s held in this same cathedral, and Mother told me how proud she felt holding me close to her bosom as she followed the priest to the altar.

be her favorite

truck out on his own, with the help of Norman Stravkos; who became his new master. He stopped going to church, started sleeping around town with girls, an

ody had been squashed in the upturned, burning vehicle would ever leave my head, but I didn't mind. A little part of me felt relief. With him gone, Mother could start her life a

ed the front rows, where fifteen were occupied. Twenty-five mourners on the right - my whole family - and double that amount on the left. Did soldiers and t

n friends in the last couple of years, so it wasn't surprising for me to note that out of the twenty-five persons, there were only two new faces I'd not seen before.

rship of me. Ownership he didn't want, but was too much of a chicken to go against his father. The contract had filled in the position of a vow. A marriage vow. The only difference was that instead of the promise to love, pr

kos that was waxing eternal. I was the sacrificial lamb. The trophy of victory over the Williams. The Stravkos got a good kick out of

e heartless monsters. They deserved not

throat when Mother took my hand in hers, her sorrow washing over me, making my eyes water. But I wasn't crying because I understood her pain. I was

free a

ther's funeral for the world. She was his favorite, after all, even though their relationship had gone sour later on. I looked down at the handsome little boy

r that I wouldn't get to have a cute chil

y dead

spacious table. Mother had insisted that it should be a clo

ather's immediate elder brother - oldest son looked past me, his gaze settling on my sister. His eyes, a soft, grass green I remembered from childhood had taken a deeper shade. I watched, wishing I c

ain swirling in my eyes. He subtly raised a hand and gave a small wave, and I wondered, fleetingly, if anyone s

as hell that th

eck stood up at once, fear slicing through my veins, but I managed to put up an air of

ntes St

stayed, tucked away in memory. Only now he appeared bigger, the posh Armani suit he had on stretching over mus

floor begging, urging him with my eyes to save me. To do something. To man up. But he didn't. He'd s

unfor

n though he didn't have any control over the situation. He'd become the head one day, just like his fath

de

to destroy s