They were familie (1). Not necessarily blood-related, but familie nonetheless. It was the most important part of all of the rivalries, anyways- familie and loyalty paid the most, mattered the most in the dark city, where everything glittered with jewels and glamour, hiding an unmistakable sense of shadows underneath.
The white-haired man was wiry and lean, but fit and healthy. His red eyes glowed with a menacing delight in watching his operations take place below his messy, attractive hair. This was Gilbert Beilschmidt, the boss of Treue. In his native Prussian (German), Treue meant loyalty- the most important quality to have.
He tapped his thin fingers against the armrests, thinking, and waved away the pretty, skimpily-dressed showgirls by his side. His wife and right-hand was prettier than them, and he loved her more than life. But no matter what he told them, the women would always flock to him.
His hitman and best friend, Francis Bonnefoy, was always covered in showgirls. His wife, Camille, was laid-back and forgiving when seeing him with the women. Camille was studious and well-kept, but caring. But he knew that Francis was faithful with his body. Who cared if women loved Francis's baby-blues and long, silky blond hair?
His other best friend, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, was the only one of the trio who was single and not married. Though the Spaniard had a mask of naivety and innocence, he was the mastermind and planner of their operations. In mafia terms, they called him the Overseer or the Counselor, elected by the others to bring a sensible opinion to the Boss's wild plans or how to execute them.
Antonio was the guy to trust when the fuzz came around, and the guy for advice when your wife was screaming at you about some hooker that visited accidentally. Most of the time, his solution involved a high-speed chase with the fuzz, a heartfelt video, public declaration, and a handful of rocks (2).
This was a dangerous life, and he loved every second of it.
Treue also included Ludwig Beilschmidt, Gilbert's younger brother. He was their supplier and firearms expert, and the organized German always kept their records and papers up to date and stored safely. Gilbert knew he could always rely on his brother- family and blood was the thing he wrapped himself up comfortably in, like a silk fitted sheet on his bed. His wife was one of Wyn's younger siblings- she had 24 of them- Monika Meier-Beilschmidt. She was talented as a spy, her looks making her one of the best in her job. Both Ludwig and Monika had glossy blond hair and blue eyes, whereas Wyn shared Gilbert's silver hair but had iridescent, color-changing eyes.
Then there were the young ones, the learners- Viktor and Isolde Meier, the inseparable twins and messengers. They were part of Gilbert's in-laws that he had gained when he married Wyn and were younger than Monika. Older than them was Angelique Michelle Laroche-Bonnefoy, the adopted daughter of the French couple. She had chocolate colored skin and inky black hair. She was already a soldier of their mafia, a high honor for one of her age.
Treue controlled the northwest side of the city, the safest and richest part. They were members of the elite, who never suspected that they were part of the underground mafia war that always went on. Therefore they were protected in their uptown hideout that included the upper part of Downtown, all of the Upper West Side, North Beach, and good halves of the Financial District, Excelsior, and Saratoga Beach.
They had money. They had glamour. They had power.
Most of all, they had the illusion that they were all good people, with a solid reputation.
Their range of operations included the high-end casinos, stealing, strip clubs, and fights. They settled disputes for a price. Murders, drugs, and weed were never part of their operations, being one of the few church-going mafias in the area. But Camille Bonnefoy bent the rules with her soft smile, pride in her role as the best assassin in the area.
Krasnyĭ Stradaniya, or Red Suffering, had a hard boss with a thirst for blood: Ivan Braginsky. He was half-mad with violet eyes and sandy blond hair, ordering murders and killings without blinking. He finished his duties with a sadistic, childish smile and deep, throaty laugh that echoed "kill, kill, kill."
His sister rivaled the best in the industry for assassins. Natalya Arlovskaya was young, but experienced enough to kill quickly. She was showy, with pale blond hair and a large black bow. Her methods were messy and she always wanted attention, leaving her jobs out in the open for everyone to find. Ivan let it go- she was his sister, after all.
His other sister was Yekaterina Braginskaya- but everyone called her Katyusha. Her large breasts and demure blushing drew the most important men to her like flies to honey. She was a kind soul- or so everyone thought. That made her mysterious, an alias that no one really knew. It was that important quality of her that made her a successful spy for Red Suffering.
Eduard von Bock, Toris Lorinaitis, Raivis Galante, and Feliks Łukasiewicz were best friends from an early age but largely different. Eduard was the overseer and counselor of the mafia, Toris the right-hand. Small, insignificant Raivis was kind but had the least important job- the messenger. Feliks was a hitman, but often got distracted.
Along with tiny Svetla Tesar, their supplier and firearms expert, the group formed Krasnyĭ Stradaniya, controlling the southern end of the downtown area and half of Hell's Kitchen. They were a group that only saw green and red- money and blood.
That greed and ruthlessness stretched into murder, drugs, and the best massage parlors in that section of the city. They were hated and they hated back; they had been enemies with Treue since the beginning, when the mafias were only schoolboys and flings and crushes.
They always had plans for each other's' demise.
Besides Treue and Red Suffering, there were eight other mafias around the city, including the original, which had been run by the Italians since the beginning. They all knew their borders, and they all had their own limits. It was the universal code to respect the businesses of the other groups and not rat anyone out to the police. If they did, they would be declared utlaga, or outcast, and therefore fair game for anyone whose area you were in.
Between all the mafias, they had their own enemies and hatred of other groups, but they all hated the Fuzz. The po-po. The police, their worst enemy. Another law within the organized crime groups was – drop it and go. It wasn't worth sitting in prison when you could get out scot-free.
Treue had worked with everyone but Krasnyĭ Stradaniya, Crescent and Cross, and Iron; therefore they were a lucky group, respected wherever they went. Except for those three. But who wanted to stay in the sewers, anyways? They were practically guaranteed their safety within every other area besides those.
Crescent and Cross were a group of Mediterranean and Middle-Eastern terrorist-like people. The police feared that they would drop a bomb someday- and it sure seemed like they might have. Gilbert generally avoided them because they were sneaky liars, always lurking around. They were close to the desert and happened to survive in extremely strange conditions, making Gilbert wary. They had most of South Side, all of Islais, and parts of Lower East Side and Juniata.
The other group they avoided was Iron- the only mafia with a woman at its head. That was simply because Gilbert hated their Counselor, Roderich Edelstein, and his Hungarian ex-girlfriend from middle school, Elizaveta Héderváry. The woman was insane and the husband was always dominated. What a prick. They were pretty small, though, so he tried to ignore their operations as much as possible. They had maybe half of the Lower East Side as well as small parts of Excelsior, South Side, and East Village. It was a wonder they hadn't been wiped off the map yet.
Yggdrasil was made up of the Scandinavian and Nordic people, and controlled the area most north of the city. They encompassed two neighborhoods: Corona Heights and Andora, the upper-class neighborhoods. Gilbert knew them as good drinking partners and was always welcome to try out their new weapons.
Striking Eagle was a mix of the Hispanic and American cultures from the Americas. The eagle, their symbol, was the mark of the warrior. Gilbert rolled his eyes whenever their boss, Alfred F. Jones, tried to convince him to have a drink. They had parts of Avonlay, Midway, and Roxbourough, plus a little of Juniata, Hell's Kitchen, and the Lower East Side. They were an average group in an average neighborhood.
Closely connected to Treue was Veil, their sometimes-friend but mostly neutral. They both had the same Germanic roots, but Veil preferred not to make enemies or friends, which would compromise their status. They were a rich group, controlling a good section of Downtown, the Financial District, and Excelsior.
Clann were the British Isles, all with different accents and usually bickering amongst themselves. They were all brothers, which Gilbert marveled at. They held the bridge, and the good neighborhoods around there- Saratoga Beach, Excelsior, and the north side of East Village. They liked to go drinking together, but it usually ended badly for whoever had to pick Clann up from their passed-out places.
Mourning Flower was comprised of the Asians- all smart, all sneaky, and very profitable. They had built their own smuggling dock to run in all sorts of illegal business. However, they were loyal and honest businessmen, and good to have in a fight- their mafia was the biggest and safest, being the farthest away from the police's area. They held East Village, a part of South Side, and Mandalay Garden.
Carnevale was a lively, young group, but their mafia roots went back two or three generations. They were part of the original Italian mafia, and therefore had more experience than the rest of them at handling relations, managing operations, and most of all, staying away from the fuzz. Ludwig was good friends with one of them, therefore they always were welcome in the land of "Pastaa!~" Carnevale mostly had the sewers, but it was a good place for them to hide out happily and eat. They controlled almost all of Juniata and the good parts of Roxborough and the Lower East Side.
So there were the groups: all ten with their different areas of expertise, hate, friendship, and love. It drew them all together, a love for crime and all things shiny and worth something.
Gilbert was picking at his wurst (3) and scalloped potatoes, and Wyn was watching him closely. Her sharp eyes picked up everything, and he knew that better than anyone else. They were in their mini-palace, their home that also served as the headquarters for Treue. No sewers and dark corners for them; they were too well raised, even before the conception of the mafia, to stoop to sneaking around. That was for the trash like Krasnyĭ Stradaniya, who grew up in the slums of Midway and Hell's Kitchen.
The couple sat across from each other in antique Prussian chairs over a glass table, a small bouquet of blue cornflowers in the delicate vase brushed to the side of the table. It was a more intimate setting than their usual dining table, used only between the two. The walls held oil paintings of them and their family, looking regal and tall. The crown molding and intricate designs of the room never let them forget that even though it was a small table and just the two of them, Gilbert was the boss of Treue and no one messed with this family.
"What's wrong?" she demanded. "You know, I cooked today just for you."
Gilbert gave her a sad smile, running a hand through his messy white hair. "Work."
Wyn gave him a look. "I know every detail about your work. I practically do your 'work' for you, Gil."
"So you do, liebling, (4)" Gilbert acknowledged.
"Is it Ivan again?"
Gilbert nodded. He had an amazing wife that could tell if he was lying or if he was upset in mere moments. "They're trying to take the upper part of Downtown from Veil so they can hit us directly. I've got-"
"Monika's out in the field gathering intel now. So that's why you sent her out today," Wyn realized. She took a bite of her potatoes, watching Gilbert with intense iridescent eyes. "We should be on alert in case they get through Veil's territory tonight."
The white-haired man gave his wife a thin smile and winked, showing his usual charm. "Or we hit them first."
(1) Family
(2) Rocks meaning diamonds, etc. (gangsta language! Jk ;) )
(3) German sausage
(4) darling
Monika Meier-Beilschmidt – Berlin
Wyn Meier-Beilschmidt – Silesia
Viktor and Isolde Meier – Saxe Coburg and Gotha
Camille Bonnefoy – Monaco
Svetla Tesar - Czechoslovakia
So, a MAFITALIA Fanfic! I've been meaning to write this for a while :) Hope you enjoy, everyone! Please READ AND REVIEW so I know if I should continue or not!
Danke!
