Chapter One

Chapter 1

Amo

Amo 9, Greta 4

'Be diligent, be aware, never allow yourself to be surprised.'

Luca's words were on repeat in his son Amo's head as his family walked into the church. At the age of nine Amo already felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. One day he would be Capo. His father promised it would be a long time until then, but his Uncle Matteo always joked that with their line of work it could truly be any day. Amo was tall for his age, he knew that, and he was grateful for it. His height often intimidated other children which had helped deter him from acting his age. Someone in his position couldn't afford to act like a child.

"In this dress, I'll be the hottest girl at the wedding," Marcella said, making Amo cringe. Ever since his sister had started spending more time with their Aunt Liliana and her girls, Marcella had been acting like she was a grown woman instead of the 12-year-old girl she was. Their mother hushed her as people began to approach them for introductions. 'Be diligent,' Amo told himself, repeating each name in his head as many times as he could. Most of the people he didn't recognize, but some of them his father had been drilling into him for a while. He needed to know not only his men but his enemies as well. The Camorra were their enemies, peace be damned. He had learned very early on that as future Capo, even his own men could be his enemies given the right circumstances.

"Fabi! Leona!" His mother's voice was filled with joy as the man Amo knew must be his uncle approached. Leona held a toddler on her hip, causing his mother to lean forward and express how cute she thought the small girl was.

"It feels like just yesterday when you were this little." She told Amo before trying to ruffle his black hair. Amo quickly sidestepped the affectionate gesture. 'Be aware,' he told himself, knowing that allowing his mother to treat him like a child would keep the men around him from respecting him. He wasn't a little boy anymore. He would be Capo one day. Marcella rolled her eyes as his mother let her hand fall with a saddened look. He hated that look. She gave it to him more often as he began to have more training sessions with his dad. He had gotten a black eye at the gym last month and when he wouldn't let her comfort him she had given him that same dispirited frown. He wanted to let her comfort him, he wanted it more than anything, but a Capo had to be strong.

"Luca," this time the man greeting them was one Amo knew well, Adamo. Amo liked Adamo. They spent a lot of time together when Adamo had spent a year living under the Famiglias territory.

"Look at you Amo, at this rate you'll be taller than your dad before too long." Adamo reached out his hand and he grasped it. Their greeting was cut short by Marcella pushing her way between them.

"Hi Adamo, how much have I changed?" Her question was said in a way that caused their father to pull her back and glare at her. Luca could always tell when his daughter was attempting to flirt. Even when she couldn't see it. Adamo let out a nervous laugh, not sure if he should answer or not.

"Leona saved our seats and the ceremony should be starting soon." Aria gently said with a hand on Luca's chest. Amo watched his parents. He was grateful for his mother's ability to diffuse situations like these. Marcella could take some lessons in subtlety from their mother, but she was more like their aunts and as a result, he had watched their father's gun collection grow larger with each passing year.

The ceremony was boring; Amo knew it would be, but he stayed alert watching everybody and everything. The only moment that was unusual for a wedding ceremony was that when the flower girl came down the aisle, she was not alone. She was holding hands with a boy who wasn't much taller than her. Their stark black hair and matching features left no doubt in his mind that the children were siblings, a boy, and a girl. The girl was wearing a pink dress and seemed to be divided between focusing on her toes and the end of the aisle. The boy seemed to have more confidence than the girl. 'Never allow yourself to be surprised,' Amo thought, but the problem with this situation was that he had been surprised. His sister would never have allowed someone to steal her moment. Had his sister been the flower girl at that age she would have been throwing petals with a beaming smile and soaking up all of the attention.

For the rest of the ceremony, Amo found he couldn't resist watching the children. He had learned by paying attention to others that they were twins. His father mentioned they looked exactly like their father which helped Amo quickly deduce that they were Remo's twins. He had heard about them of course. Back home he had heard soldiers talk about them, rumors said they were soulless, stating that they were unmistakably Falcones. Unusual? Yes. Amo thought to himself, but soulless? That was nonsense. They were children. Amo could only assume that a lot of the stories had been highly exaggerated in their circles and this was one of them.

The twins were unpredictable; and that, Amo did not like. He prided himself on being able to predict the actions of others. He knew when his sister was about to say something that would upset his father. He could tell by observing how people held themselves if they were nervous, confident, friendly, or on guard. Most of the men he met were constantly on guard. Children were often more predictable than men. They were innocents in their world. Amo knew he was still technically considered innocent until the day he would be initiated. He could predict what most of his peers would do in any given situation. He knew what his younger cousins would do almost as soon as they began. The Falcone twins though were different; they were unpredictable.

Amo studied them as inconspicuously as he could. He wanted to see if by watching them, he could start to figure them out. If he could make sense of them. It was difficult though. He estimated their ages to be between four and six based on his knowledge of them and seeing how they behaved. The boy seemed to be constantly looking towards his father and the two uncles who were not at the altar, not for guidance but as if he was seeing what he might get away with. The girl seemed content to stay hidden away from everyone but would follow her brother wherever he went.

Amo was pretty disinterested in the rest of the festivities going on around him. He didn't know the bride and groom, and all the mushy love stuff was making him sick. He was sitting at his family's designated table beside the dance floor watching people twirl around when he suddenly heard the laughter of small children. It was a quiet sound, like the owners of the giggles were trying to be sneaky. He looked behind him towards the noise and saw the wedding cake and next to it were two children with stark black hair. It was them, the Falcone twins, again. He thought through many scenarios trying to figure out what they were up to now.

The twins quickly disappeared under the table holding the cake. Despite knowing he should mind his own business, Amo was curious. Looking toward his parents, he knew they were distracted and wouldn't notice he was missing. Amo stood from their table and quickly, but without trying to draw attention to himself, made his way towards where the two youngsters had disappeared. The dance floor was filled so Amo stuck to the perimeter, never letting his eyes waiver from the table skirt. As he closed the distance he could see the duo had emerged on the other side of the giant wedding cake. Their forms were hidden between the size of the dessert and the back wall. Amo's lips twitched as he realized what they were up to. The boy didn't hesitate as he climbed on top of a chair, shoved his fist into the cake, and plopped the crumbled dessert down onto a plate the girl was holding. The little girl smiled brightly at her brother before he once again thrust his fist into the cake.

"NOT TODAY, PIA!" The shout caused Amo to freeze as it came from right next to him. The boy looked up before launching himself off the chair and running. Amo didn't move but did note the man who had yelled was the groom, Savio. Savio was darting around guests chasing the boy, but Amo's attention was still focused on the table. The girl, who had moments before been grinning at her brother was frowning down at the ground. The yell must have startled her because her crumbled cake that her brother had worked so hard to retrieve for her had fallen.

Over the years Amo had been taught many things by his father. Recently he had begun training on how to properly shoot a gun, but one of the first things his father had ever taught him was that women and children were to be protected. It was his father's voice saying that it was their duty as men to protect the children that seemed to be echoing in his head as Amo closed the distance between himself and the little girl.

"Hey," he gently coaxed her to look up trying not to react to the unshed tears in her small eyes, "it's okay, I've got you."

He quickly looked around the room knowing he shouldn't. The bride and groom were supposed to cut the first piece of the cake, but they would do that from the side so the guests could see and the boy had already damaged the back. Amo plucked a plate from a table behind the cake. Those dishes would be used in serving it later. Then he pulled the knife he kept hidden in his chest pocket out. His mother would be furious if she knew he had brought it with him. Quickly, he sliced a small piece of the delicate cake for the girl before cleaning his knife off on a napkin.

Hiding the cake from view, he motioned for the girl to follow him to the closest empty table. She didn't seem to want to move at first, but hesitantly, she followed him with slow steps while suspicious dark eyes were examining him. Once they arrived he placed the plate onto the table and her expression brightened. She was much quicker to make her way onto the empty chair in front of the cake. Feeling accomplished, Amo turned to go sit with his parents again, only to see his father glaring at Marcella with his mother lecturing her. Marcella was always getting in trouble. He scowled to himself wondering what she has done this time. He did not want to be there for yet another fight. Taking a deep breath, Amo chose to take a seat at the empty table by the girl. Expecting that at least he could sit in silence. He was wrong.

"Tank you." The sound was so soft he thought surely he had imagined it, but the child was looking at him with her head cocked to the side as though she was waiting for a response.

"I say tank you." This time the tone wasn't one of gratitude but of reprimanding. He was reminded of when his mother was getting on to him.

"Okay?" He replied confused as to what the child wanted. She huffed and crossed her arms making Amo want to laugh, but he held it in.

"I say tank you. You say 'elcom." It all came together like a light bulb switching on. The child was telling him to use his manners.

"Oh um, you're welcome." He replied feeling flustered at being taught manners by someone who was presumably half his age.

"No, no," She said with a shake of her head causing her black curls to bounce, then she took a breath, smiled sweetly, and repeated the words that he at first did not even know had come from her. "Tank you"

"You're welcome." His response this time came with a slight twitch of a smile. He was working hard not to laugh at the entire situation.

Just before she finally took a bite of the stolen wedding cake, the little boy returned with a devilish grin and a look of accomplishment on his face. He seemed to have lost his shoes while he was being chased, and the way his thick hair sprawled out all over his head led Amo to believe he was more than a handful. When he spotted Amo, his grin turned into a scowl, the boy then looked over to his sister. He noticed the cake in her hand and promptly proceeded to grab the cake and stuff it in his mouth. The little girl's expression turned to shock, then to something else as her eyes began to fill with tears. She took off towards the crowd in search of someone, presumably her mother. The little boy finished the cake, then unceremoniously wiped his cake coated hands on the table cloth before dashing after his sister. What a peculiar set of twins.

Amo returned to his table with his parents. Marcella sat looking very annoyed with her arms crossed on the table. His father had a protective arm draped over the back of her chair as if daring anyone to talk to her. His mother was across the room talking to Aunt Leona and her daughter.

The bride and groom took to another dance on the floor. Marcella stared dreamily at them, but Amo couldn't have cared less. This was all too girly in his opinion, the only thing that would make this interesting would be blood. Back in New York many of the guys had speculated that this wedding would be when Chicago finally took revenge on the Camorra for stealing the Ice Princess. Disappointingly, it appeared that his Uncle Matteo was right. He said before they left, "Dante doesn't have the balls to attack after all this time." The possibility of a fight was the only reason Amo had been somewhat looking forward to the event. His dad didn't think he was old enough to intentionally go on dangerous outings yet. He had hoped this wedding would be his chance to show his newest shooting skills. Now it was just boring or at least that was what he thought until he noticed the twins again.

They were in the corner of the dance floor. The girl struggled to hold the boy's hands as she tried to twirl around, but the little boy kept trying to get free of her hold. The young Falcone seemed to love making Savio angry. Despite his sister's many attempts to hold him back, the rambunctious boy got free of her hold and made a mad dash towards the bride and groom. Amo began to think of the boy as a Mini Remo. The boy slid down on his stomach and proceeded to crawl under the bride's dress. She jumped forward falling into the groom who frantically tried to grab her amid all the cloth. He caught her in time before she fell to the ground. Mini Remo peaked out from under the dress with a devilish grin as Savio snatched him up with one hand and stormed off the dance floor.

The girl had disappeared in the meantime. Amo watched as Remo grabbed his son and pulled him somewhere off to the side. Their mother, Serafina, hurried behind him looking like she was trying to calm the two down. Amo didn't dare take his eyes off the spectacle until he felt a tug on his sleeve. Amo turned to see the little girl.

She looked up at him shyly, pointed to the dance floor, and said, "Please. You dance."

Amo's mother looked over with a smile and said "I think you have an admirer." Amo would never have even considered dancing and when he didn't say anything, the little girl repeated herself looking a little annoyed at his lack of manners once again.

"I say you dance!" she looked at him with big eyes, then smiled sweetly before adding the manners her mother had obviously instilled in her, "Please." Just as he was about to reject her, his mother gave him a push and said, "When a pretty young lady asks for a dance Amo, the least you can do is accept." she gave the little girl a wink and Amo groaned. He looked to his father for help, but all Luca said was "You heard your mother".

"I can't believe Amo is getting to dance and I don't." Marcella huffed. She looked over to her father as if to convince him to let her find a partner. Luca just shook his head and faced forward, his arm still securely wrapped around her shoulder.

Amo reluctantly got up and the little girl grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. Amo heard "awww" and "so cute" from the guests, and couldn't help but feel the eyes of too many people upon him. Embarrassment crept up onto his cheeks. He quickly swallowed it down and reminded himself of his dad's words 'be confident, don't show weakness'. With his head held high, he took the kid by the hands and went with her to the dance floor. He was a statue. He couldn't figure out how to dance properly with a child, but it didn't matter; she seemed to take the lead, having him hold out his hand so she could spin like a ballerina while holding his finger. The song seemed to last forever and he found all he had to do was allow her to switch from arm to arm, but then she made a little jump and with her tiny voice uttered yet another demand, "Up!"

"What?" Amo asked confused, but she jumped again and made the same demand, "Up!" leaning over slightly he picked the girl up under her arms and she arched her neck back as if they were performing Swan Lake. The pieces began to fit in his head. The pink dress; although traditional flower girls wear white, and the way she insisted on spinning. The child obviously took ballet classes.

When the song finally ended the little girl pulled on her skirt and curtsied. "Tank you fo dis dance, sir," she said.

Amo shook his head. "No sir, just Amo."

The little girl shook her head. "No! I say tank you for dis dance, sir. You bow and say 'elcome"

Amo sighed and nodded. She curtsied again and said thank you. Amo sheepishly bowed and said, "You're welcome."

When Amo turned to walk away, she tugged on his sleeve forcing him to turn back to look at her once more. She motioned for him to bend down. Amo bent down knowing she would be persistent.

"I am Greta," the little girl said, "and I love you, Amo." She then kissed Amo right on the mouth in the middle of the dance floor.

Amo couldn't stop his cheeks from turning red this time, very well aware of the many people who just saw the Camorra Princess kiss the Famiglia Prince. He quickly hurried back to his seat at his parent's table. His mother was hiding her face behind a napkin trying hard to suppress her giggles, his father who never showed emotion in public had a slightly amused look on his face and Marcella scowled because she still hadn't had a dance at all, while her little brother was having more fun than she was. Across the room, Remo Falcone held his daughter in his arms and stared straight at Amo with a look meant to kill.

While the twins were peculiar, and the little boy was definitely a handful, he had nothing on the shy little girl. 'Be diligent, be aware, never allow yourself to be surprised.' Amo listened to his father's words on repeat as he wondered how a small child had managed to completely catch him by surprise. 'Oh man,' Amo thought, 'what have I just gotten myself into'.