Post by licketysplit07 on Oct 3, 2009 0:27:32 GMT -5
I haven't begun to post this on Quizilla yet because I want to get atleast a quarter of the way through it first and so far I only have 5 complete chapters, but I kinda want to share my story and hopefully if I begin posting it somewhere where people can read it (or atleast have the opportunity) I may feel more obligated to continue it.
Anyway, the title is a work in progress so don't judge too harshly.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Gia, are you still getting ready?” My fathers broken English rang from the staircase into my room.
“I’ll be down in a minute” I replied loud enough for him to hear, my English sounding so much more fluid than his.
I had the upper hand on the language situation though seeing as I was born here in America whereas my father lived in Italy for the first 30 years of his life. He only decided to move here to expand the business and that’s when he met my mother. She was working as a secretary in one of those big buildings on 4th Ave and one day while my dad happened to be in there, she started up a conversation with him and they just hit it off. Not a very romantic way to meet, but they fell deeply in love with each other and that eventually led to the conception of my brother and me. Well, perhaps I should take that first comment back. Obviously they couldn’t have been “deeply in love” because only 9 years after I was born she split. I had always preferred my Father to my Mother though, so thankfully I wasn’t too distraught over her sudden departure.
At the beginning it was exciting with it being just him. Without her, there was no one to tell me ‘no’ and daddy was willing to give me anything I wanted. This was an observation greatly abused by me. Not a single 10 year old girl had as many dolls or stuffed animals as I did. As I grew older he began leaving more often on business trips though. It wasn’t until his work really began demanding his every moment did I realize that the only thing he couldn’t give me was the one I desired the most: a proper family. My cravings, however, were always forgotten upon his return.
He had only gotten back late last night from a 6 month absence on one of his trips in order to attend this funeral, with promises of quality time afterwards. Just me, him and Roland, my brother.
“Gianna, please,” his heavy Italian accent groaned.
“Ok, alright. I’m coming.” I gave myself one more look in the mirror. I was wearing a very modest black dress with my brown hair softly curled falling down my back. In my Dads line of business, this attire was a frequent necessity.
“You look very nice.”
“Thank you. Not too bad yourself.” My father was a bigger man and currently wearing one of his very best Gucci suits.
We walked each other out to the car and drove to the church silently. There’s something about going to a funeral that leaves anyone involved in a state of reticence.
Inside the church we were greeted with casual pleasantries and gratitude for our attendance. I acted as an accessory to my father’s presence. It wasn’t like I knew the people there. Through my Fathers title, I was obligated to be there. I didn’t mind though. Lately he had been gone a lot so for me this was just an opportunity to be with him. Call me a softie, but for the most part I liked spending time with my dad.
We easily made it up to the front of the room. When your dad was Vencentio Gambino, you didn’t have to wait in silly little lines to simply offer your condolences to people.
“Ah, sweet Rosetta,” my father cooed the widow of the man whose funeral we were attending, “your loss will not be forgotten. I will see that you and your family are taken care of.”
“Oh, thank you Vencentio. You were always so good to us.” She sobbed, grasping his lapel and burying her face into his chest.
“All will be well soon enough,” he patted her back, doing his best to comfort her in a soothing tone. He gently pried her hands from his suit and we walked away leaving her to a long line of others wishing to offer condolences.
“Benardo, see that any expenses Ms. Mancini has are covered.” My father charged a man near by while smoothing down the front or his jacket casually. He then took out a wad of cash and handing it to the man standing before us. I smiled inwardly at my father’s benevolent gesture. I knew he was caring and thoughtful, even if the rest of Las Vegas thought he was a monster. The man, Bernardo, nodded obediently.
“They have an older son who is about 26. Give the family a week before contacting him. Tell him he must finish his fathers job if he wishes to keep his life.”
My inward smile faded. Alright, so maybe at times he was the beast that people made him out to be – that doesn’t make him a bad person.
“Yes sir.” The man nodded once more before vanishing into the crowd.
“Well my little bambino, we’ve done all we can for this family now. Let’s go.” He put his arm around me.
We began walking to the double doors in the back of the room to leave when both doors swung violently open. Before I could react to the screams and gunshots from ahead I was pushed onto an empty pew as several men scattered sporadically around the room pulled out guns firing at the original intruders, my father being one of them. As quickly as the first shots were fired, they ended. The screams of a few women however, were still being vociferated.
“Cafone! Get up” He roughly grabbed my hand pulling me up muttering under his breath, quickly leading me outside. Once we were outside the double doors were shut cutting us off from any of the nosey guests.
On the ground there was already a small pool of blood, apparently from where one of the funeral crashers had been shot. There was no body, though you could tell where it had already been drug off. Convenient place for someone to die I thought to myself.
However, that wasn’t my fathers concern. A short distance away, was a small huddle of men in suits probing another man who was being pinned to the ground.
“Take my daughter home please Salvatore”
“Yes sir” A man appeared out of nowhere at my side.
“But Dad, I thought we were going to-“
“I have work to do.” He didn’t look back at me as he strode over to the man on the ground.
“Gianna” Salvatore held out his hand to me as he opened the car door of his BMW. I reluctantly got in, the door shutting behind me.
Through the window I could see my dad pulling out his gun once more. I turned away and prepared myself for the blast. Thankfully, at that moment the engine roared to life and we sped away back towards my house. I sighed heavily thinking to myself. Looks like my dad’s going to be engulfed in business again. So much for “quality family time”. Sometimes this whole Mafia thing was really draining, especially when your fathers The Boss.
Anyway, the title is a work in progress so don't judge too harshly.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 1
“Gia, are you still getting ready?” My fathers broken English rang from the staircase into my room.
“I’ll be down in a minute” I replied loud enough for him to hear, my English sounding so much more fluid than his.
I had the upper hand on the language situation though seeing as I was born here in America whereas my father lived in Italy for the first 30 years of his life. He only decided to move here to expand the business and that’s when he met my mother. She was working as a secretary in one of those big buildings on 4th Ave and one day while my dad happened to be in there, she started up a conversation with him and they just hit it off. Not a very romantic way to meet, but they fell deeply in love with each other and that eventually led to the conception of my brother and me. Well, perhaps I should take that first comment back. Obviously they couldn’t have been “deeply in love” because only 9 years after I was born she split. I had always preferred my Father to my Mother though, so thankfully I wasn’t too distraught over her sudden departure.
At the beginning it was exciting with it being just him. Without her, there was no one to tell me ‘no’ and daddy was willing to give me anything I wanted. This was an observation greatly abused by me. Not a single 10 year old girl had as many dolls or stuffed animals as I did. As I grew older he began leaving more often on business trips though. It wasn’t until his work really began demanding his every moment did I realize that the only thing he couldn’t give me was the one I desired the most: a proper family. My cravings, however, were always forgotten upon his return.
He had only gotten back late last night from a 6 month absence on one of his trips in order to attend this funeral, with promises of quality time afterwards. Just me, him and Roland, my brother.
“Gianna, please,” his heavy Italian accent groaned.
“Ok, alright. I’m coming.” I gave myself one more look in the mirror. I was wearing a very modest black dress with my brown hair softly curled falling down my back. In my Dads line of business, this attire was a frequent necessity.
“You look very nice.”
“Thank you. Not too bad yourself.” My father was a bigger man and currently wearing one of his very best Gucci suits.
We walked each other out to the car and drove to the church silently. There’s something about going to a funeral that leaves anyone involved in a state of reticence.
Inside the church we were greeted with casual pleasantries and gratitude for our attendance. I acted as an accessory to my father’s presence. It wasn’t like I knew the people there. Through my Fathers title, I was obligated to be there. I didn’t mind though. Lately he had been gone a lot so for me this was just an opportunity to be with him. Call me a softie, but for the most part I liked spending time with my dad.
We easily made it up to the front of the room. When your dad was Vencentio Gambino, you didn’t have to wait in silly little lines to simply offer your condolences to people.
“Ah, sweet Rosetta,” my father cooed the widow of the man whose funeral we were attending, “your loss will not be forgotten. I will see that you and your family are taken care of.”
“Oh, thank you Vencentio. You were always so good to us.” She sobbed, grasping his lapel and burying her face into his chest.
“All will be well soon enough,” he patted her back, doing his best to comfort her in a soothing tone. He gently pried her hands from his suit and we walked away leaving her to a long line of others wishing to offer condolences.
“Benardo, see that any expenses Ms. Mancini has are covered.” My father charged a man near by while smoothing down the front or his jacket casually. He then took out a wad of cash and handing it to the man standing before us. I smiled inwardly at my father’s benevolent gesture. I knew he was caring and thoughtful, even if the rest of Las Vegas thought he was a monster. The man, Bernardo, nodded obediently.
“They have an older son who is about 26. Give the family a week before contacting him. Tell him he must finish his fathers job if he wishes to keep his life.”
My inward smile faded. Alright, so maybe at times he was the beast that people made him out to be – that doesn’t make him a bad person.
“Yes sir.” The man nodded once more before vanishing into the crowd.
“Well my little bambino, we’ve done all we can for this family now. Let’s go.” He put his arm around me.
We began walking to the double doors in the back of the room to leave when both doors swung violently open. Before I could react to the screams and gunshots from ahead I was pushed onto an empty pew as several men scattered sporadically around the room pulled out guns firing at the original intruders, my father being one of them. As quickly as the first shots were fired, they ended. The screams of a few women however, were still being vociferated.
“Cafone! Get up” He roughly grabbed my hand pulling me up muttering under his breath, quickly leading me outside. Once we were outside the double doors were shut cutting us off from any of the nosey guests.
On the ground there was already a small pool of blood, apparently from where one of the funeral crashers had been shot. There was no body, though you could tell where it had already been drug off. Convenient place for someone to die I thought to myself.
However, that wasn’t my fathers concern. A short distance away, was a small huddle of men in suits probing another man who was being pinned to the ground.
“Take my daughter home please Salvatore”
“Yes sir” A man appeared out of nowhere at my side.
“But Dad, I thought we were going to-“
“I have work to do.” He didn’t look back at me as he strode over to the man on the ground.
“Gianna” Salvatore held out his hand to me as he opened the car door of his BMW. I reluctantly got in, the door shutting behind me.
Through the window I could see my dad pulling out his gun once more. I turned away and prepared myself for the blast. Thankfully, at that moment the engine roared to life and we sped away back towards my house. I sighed heavily thinking to myself. Looks like my dad’s going to be engulfed in business again. So much for “quality family time”. Sometimes this whole Mafia thing was really draining, especially when your fathers The Boss.