Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“You’ll want to take those off.” He glances down at my heels.
I do as he suggests, leaving them on the floorboard. I’m not about to try to navigate cobblestone in my spike-heeled crystal Jimmy Choos.
Before I can swing my bare foot out, Angelo leans down and sweeps me up into his arms in one smooth motion.
“I can walk,” I protest half-heartedly.
He hauls me through the stone archway without a response as Nicky trails behind us, carrying the bag I packed for tonight. Angelo navigates the village’s narrow pathways, and after a steep climb, we reach the piazza. It’s a beautiful square surrounded by shuttered buildings, worn stone, and centuries of history. But I’m most impressed by the fact that Angelo doesn’t seem taxed in the slightest after hefting my ass up that hill.
We pass by a church and several other meandering pathways before we reach the castle at the highest point of the village. Angelo carries me through the raised iron portcullis, leading us out onto a terrace perched on a cliff’s edge. Glowing lanterns illuminate the space, and men in hooded robes stand in a semi-circle, ready to greet us. Beyond the castle wall, this area provides privacy, along with a sweeping view of the open countryside. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but rolling hills and starry Tuscan skies.
As the portcullis closes behind us, it becomes apparent that this is the setting for the marking ceremony. Angelo sets me upon my feet, and one of the robed representatives from IVI steps forward.
“Good evening, Mr. Vitale.” The man gestures to the long table overflowing with a bounty of bread, wine, cheese, and fruit. “The village offers you this gift for the most blessed of occasions.”
Angelo thanks him before his gaze drifts to the ornately carved wooden throne sat against the dramatic backdrop. A small table beside it already has the necessary equipment for the tattoo, while a fire pit burns nearby, the branding iron nestled within its glowing coals.
“A gift from the Tribunal,” the representative explains. “After tonight’s ceremony, we’ll have it shipped to the island for you to use at your leisure.”
At this, Angelo scrapes a hand over his jaw, his irritation palpable. While impractical, the throne appears to be a symbolic gesture to honor Angelo’s position within the Cosa Nostra. If I had to guess, this must be the Society’s olive branch for his wrongful conviction. The Tribunal’s Councilors aren’t the type to grovel, but they also know the Cosa Nostra isn’t an organization they want to enter a bloody war with.
The Vitales straddle both worlds, but their loyalty is first and foremost to the family. While The Society has its own rules of law and order, they overstepped when they took the unprecedented action of imprisoning a member of the Cosa Nostra. It was only because he was accused of killing a Councilor’s son that the Tribunal made the call.
There’s always been a delicate balance between the two worlds. The Society takes a willfully ignorant approach when it comes to members affiliated with the Mafia. They don’t want to know about it, and they’ll deny such a connection exists down to their very marrow. And yet, when they need something handled, they always know who to call.
Before the incident that led to Angelo’s imprisonment, the Vitales were negotiating a partnership with Adrian Lockwood. He was a Society son looking to make a name for himself in the art world. He wanted to be known as someone who could source the impossible for private sales. The Cosa Nostra had access to those channels.
During a meeting with Angelo, Adrian’s gallery was ransacked by unidentified men, and he was killed in the process. Over a million dollars of art went missing, and only one man was left standing in the rubble.
Councilor Lockwood took the position that it had to have been a setup. It didn’t make sense that his son would be shot, but Angelo wasn’t. And given his ties to the Cosa Nostra, the Tribunal agreed. They sentenced Angelo to decades behind bars in a Tribunal prison—with the condition that he would be released if the Vitales could prove his innocence.
For months, it was all anyone could talk about. It very nearly started a war, and there was a time when I was certain Silvio might forsake it all and burn the whole organization to the ground. It was only because of Angelo that he didn’t. Silvio spared no expense and turned over every stone in search of who was responsible. Battles erupted with smaller gangs, and tensions were so high between every faction in the city, I wasn’t sure any of us would make it out alive. But in the end, Angelo must have proven his innocence because he wouldn’t be standing here today if he hadn’t.