Everyone has grown silent as the notice the two figures standing on the dance-floor, facing each-other.
One is Vinnie.
The other is Tony.
When I said that the entire Salvatore family is here, I wasn't counting the one member who shouldn't be here: Antonio Salvatore.
Tony is the eldest son of Vincenzo's brother, Giovanni. He was cut off from the Salvatore family when he defected to the Russians, soon after I was employed by Vincenzo. Although no one could prove it, everyone suspected him of the disappearance of his brother Joseph. Later, it was discovered that Tony had been leaking vital information about his family's operations to their rival, Pavel Ivanovich, the head of the Basin City chapter of the Russian Mafiya. The final straw came when he stole a large sum of money from his father and fled the city, leaving only a note saying that he was joining Ivanovich. His mother, Renata, died shortly after, her heart broken.
Distraught, Giovanni blamed him for this as well and Vincenzo labelled him "M'al occhio" (Cursed with the Evil Eye) and renounced him.
But now, here he is. I don't know how he got past the guards at the front gate, but I'm stopping him here and now.
I go for my Beretta and I know that Neil is doing the same.
Vinnie holds up both hands and calls for us to stop.
"Put your guns away," he pleads. "Please."
"What is that dog doing here?" asks Vincenzo.
"He's here because I asked him to be," says Vinnie. "So please, no guns."
Against our better judgement, Neil and I do so. A couple of the others on security detail aren't so sure.
"Explain yourself, Junior!" Vincenzo demands. Giovanni can't even bring himself to look at his son.
"Look, a couple of days ago, Tony called me. He said that everything had fallen apart and that he was tormented by his sins. He told me that he wanted to repent. So I invited him here to make his peace with you all."
A murmur ripples through the crowd. Nobody wants to believe that this is true. Then again, Vinnie has always been a good judge of character.
"Please, father, let me vouch for him," he continues. "If I am going to be the new head of this family, I want us to be driven by compassion, not hunger for retribution."
Vincenzo considers this, then looks to Tony.
"Honoured Uncle," says Tony, keeping his head down, submissively. "And my beloved Father. I know that my actions are inexcusable. But I've had years to dwell upon what I have done and I want to make restitution. I need to make restitution, to save my soul. So, I humbly beg you to allow me to do whatever it takes to repay you and my family for all my wrongs."
I'm surprised. Tony was never this eloquent before. I never considered him to be much of an actor, so maybe he is genuine. Vincenzo is taken aback as well, though this sort of thing has happened before.
"Very well," he says after a while. "Junior, you are personally responsible for overseeing this man's penance, with my blessing."
Vinnie smiles broadly.
"Thank-you, father," he says, and then turns to the crowd. "With everyone here as my witness, I welcome Tony back into the Salvatore family!"
Vinnie embraces his cousin and everyone applauds.
Even me.
I could never do what he has done.
I have never met anyone so forgiving and generous as Vinnie.
I look over to Anya, her eyes are shining and she claps as loud and hard as anyone in the Salvatore family. As I watch her, the rest of the party melts away, until all I can see is her.
That's when I realize that I need to at least try to reconnect with her.
Touching he arm, I'm about to ask if she wants to go for coffee sometime, when I notice the look of horror crossing her face. It's one that I've seen only once before: the day she helplessly watched her father beat me. I follow her gaze and everything slows as reality comes crashing back.
There is a collective gasp as Vinnie suddenly straightens up in Tony's grasp, then slumps forward.
A six-inch stiletto knife is buried in his back.
With deft, surgical precision, Tony pulls out the blade and slashes Vinnie's throat. Vinnie is too shocked to even make a sound as he collapses to the ground, bleeding heavily.
"With sincerest compliments of Pavel Ivanovich," crows Tony.
The sudden brutality of Vinnie's murder shocks us all for a few seconds that stretch into lifetimes.
Strangely, it's one the Licciardellos' that make the first move, going for his gun.
"Eat lead, you little bastard!"
But Tony is quicker. He throws the stiletto, nailing the guy right between the eyes.
He drops.
Somewhere, a waitress screams as everybody snaps out of the collective trance.
Now Neil and I go for our pistols, but Tony, moving with the speed of a striking viper, grabs the niece that Vinnie danced with by the hair. There is a flash of steel and he has a scalpel in his hand. He presses the flat of it against her neck.
"Put your guns down and get back, you spaghetti-sucking greasers," he sneers, "Or I carve the little princess a nice new smile."
We don't hesitate.
We don't have a choice.
We put our guns down.
The crowd parts as Tony drags the girl back towards the house.
One of Vinnie's college buddies is a doctor and tries to stop the bleeding, even though we all know it's too late for Vinnie, just as it is too late for the guard.
I start to follow Tony at a distance. I cross paths with Vincenzo, who leans in, puts something in my coat-pocket and whispers three words into my ear, before going to his son.
Three words and I know what must be done.
As I pass by the gift table, I pick up the .25, load it with the six shells Vincenzo gave me and tuck it into the back of my cummerbund. Finally, this pathetic excuse for a piece of clothing has a useā¦
