Si... I once had a life. I had a brother. A couple of nice parents. But those days are gone now. Now that I'm in the mafia. How is it my fault? I was kidnapped. Tortured. I did it to protect the people that I love. But even so... after I killed the one that took me away in the first place, no one forced me to become the leader of the mafia. Si... my mafia days are over. Now I'm in the most powerful mafia family in all of Italy. No one made me kill all those people. No one made me kill my brother, my mother, my father. That was all me. I once had a life. A good life. And it was thrown away. It wasn't taken by anyone. I'm the one that threw my old life away and never looked back. It's all my fault. So if you want to blame me, blame me. I'm a criminal. I won't deny it. But what can you do about it? I'll kill you before you can get the word out.
I am Feliciano. Last name? How can I remember? I never had one. My identity isn't my last name, or my first name. It's in the barrel of my gun. On the smile in my eyes as I laugh death in the face and throw souls into the pit. My identity isn't in a name. I am not a person. I am not human. I am death. The great grim reaper. People know me not by Feliciano, but rather by the trail of blood that follows me wherever I go.
Do you have a problem with that? I didn't think so.
"-ano! Feliciano! Feliciano wake up!" Feliciano woke with a start. He looked around and realized that he fell asleep in his office, his feet on the desk and his arms dangling carelessly over the sides of the chair. He quickly sat up and wiped the drool from his mouth.
"What is it you want, Lovino?" Lovino, the capo bastone, or second in command, was like a brother to Feliciano. They did everything together. They even looked pretty much the same. It was surprising they weren't blood related.
"Don Feliciano, some gang members has crossed onto our territory. Said they were looking for you."
"So? Send in the Capo régime and some Sgarrista. They'll take care of it."
"I would if I could, but they weren't anywhere to be found. And the one asking for you is Braginsky." Feliciano looked up, interested. Braginsky? The Ivan Braginsky whom has been the head of the rival mafia family for at least a decade now? This was surely going to be fun. Feliciano smiled and grabbed his loaded pistol along with a dagger. The two headed outside, to be immediately greeted by Ivan Braginsky, what looked like the Capo Bastone, the Consigliere, and several foot soldiers. Feliciano's Consigliere (or family consultant) was trying to make sure they didn't get any closer.
Feliciano walked up to the Consigliere, Honda Kiku, and patted his back. "I'll take care of this, Kiku. You head back inside." Kiku bowed and went inside.
"Ah, if it isn't head of the Vargas family, Feliciano." Ivan Braginsky spoke, his arms spread wide, a huge grin on his face. Feliciano couldn't tell if he was being sincere or not. "But rumor has it, you aren't actually a Vargas, you just killed the previous head of the family and took his place, keeping the name Vargas. Isn't that right?"
Feliciano smiled his sincerest and sweetest smile he could, keeping his gun hidden, but close at hand. "Rumors are rumors. I won't say whether they're true or not, but I don't think you came to chat. What do you want, Braginsky?"
"Ah, you are seeing right through me, da? But I guess you are famous for that. As I'm sure you have been hearing, we hit a little financial setback."
"So? What does that have to do with me?"
"I am thinking that a trade would be nice, da."
Feliciano's eyes narrowed. "Oh? And what kind of trade would that be?"
"A few of my soldiers in exchange for a little bit of money. When we get enough to pay it off, we give you the money- including the interest in this -and you give us back our soldiers. My family has already agreed to this trade, now it's up to you. Deal or no?"
Feliciano didn't even need to think twice about it. "I can already tell that our two groups run things very differently. I'm always ahead of the family business, while you like to rule from the shadows, intervening only when necessary." Ivan's eyes narrowed. Feliciano smirked and continued. "We both run our families very differently. And I respect that. But one thing that I cannot get past is this: your family is very disorganized. There are a lot of conflict in your own walls. And you depend on other families to solve those conflicts. While my family is very different. We are united, organized, and independent from all other families or otherwise. That is why we are considered a mafia. You, on the other hand, have been called many things. Mafia isn't one of them. Gang is. And the difference between a gang and a mafia, is mafia makes its own money. A gang gets money from tricking other groups to giving them money, or they steal it from another person or group."
"So what exactly are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm not like you. And I will never give you money. Arrivederci." Feliciano and Lovino started to walk back inside. Ivan shouted to their backs.
"You will be regretting the day you made an enemies with me, Feliciano." And with that, they walked back.
Feliciano sat on the back of a typical Italian-style couch, smoking a cigar. The rest sat around, either on a couch or on the floor. The fireplace was lit, an apple wood log burning. There was a throw rug in the middle of a white carpet. A flat screen TV hung over the fireplace, a bunch of trophies and nick-knacks resting on the ledge of the fireplace. There was a grandfather clock on one side of the room, and the front door on the other. A regular light swung overhead. Feliciano didn't like flashy and expensive stuff like most mafias did, which is exactly what everyone liked about him. He was casual, nice, and good looking. He was more interested in using the money on ammo, supplies for food or medical stuff, or to just keep locked up in a safe, just to be sure. They admired Feliciano because he was a good leader, and he cared about them just as much as they cared about him. But today Feliciano was a bit troubled.
"You did the right thing" Roderich Edelstein said. He was Austrian, or so he said. He had a thick, almost German accent. Feliciano liked him. He was the Contabile, or financial advisor. Feliciano also had a thing for Germans, although he had no idea why. Feliciano sighed, though.
"Ve~ If I did the right thing, then why am I so worried?"
"How am I supposed to know? Our money is safe, and that's all that there is to worry about, right?"
"You dumbass" Lovino interjected. "That's not what Feliciano is worried about!"
Roderich was about to respond when Feliciano stood up on the couch and shouted "Stop it, both of you!" All talk around the room silenced. "The reason why I'm worried is because of the threat Braginsky sent me. And you all are very aware of what happens to anyone that is threatened by the Braginsky family. Hell, most of us came from the Braginsky family. I did. Lovino did. Several others in this room alone."
Mathias Koehler, the Capo régime, or Sergeant as he calls himself, spoke up. "So did I. And I can tell you now Feliciano, that I won't let that happen. All my men will be on guard. Nothing can get past us. We're elite, huh?" Everyone in the room but Roderich, Lovino, and Feliciano cheered. The first two rolled their eyes, while Feliciano smiled. Elite... it was a very comforting word.
Everyone got up for microwave food and beer. Feliciano looked around. Everyone in the Vargas family was there. A rather small family, actually. Fifteen people all together. Ten Sgarrista, or soldiers (one of them, Arthur, being a skilled medic). Mathias Koehler, "the Sergeant" or Capo régime. Roderich Edelstein, the financial advisor, or Contabile. Honda Kiku the Consigliere, or family counselor (also a skillful fighter and Feliciano's best friend). Lovino Vargas, the second in command, or Capo Bastone (also a decent fighter and a brother to Feliciano). And then Feliciano. First in command. He loved his family. He loved having one-night-stands with women he doesn't even know. He loved the thrill of the fight, the rush of adrenaline when the cops were after you or when you were pointing a gun at someone's head -or even better when someone else is pointing a gun at your head.
And yet Feliciano wanted to get away. Some part of him still yearned for a normal life outside of the mafia, where he could fall in love and eat with people and not get chased by the cops whenever he went out. Feliciano sighed a little too loudly.
"Is there something bothering you?" A voice asked. Feliciano quickly looked up to see Honda Kiku standing over him, that face that is normally completely blank, now showing a little bit of concern. Feliciano cursed under his breath. He wasn't supposed to let on that anything was wrong. Yet again, it was only Kiku...
"I've just been wondering..." Feliciano started. But he thought better of it and shook his head. "Forget it, it's nothing."
"Well it obviously isn't" Kiku said in his Japanese accent. "I can't forget about it now. Why don't you tell me? I promise that no one else would have to know." Kiku sat down next to Feliciano on the couch. The others laughed and clinked glasses in the kitchen behind them. The fire crackled in front of them. Feliciano stared into it and decided he would tell Kiku.
"I was just thinking if maybe I could get away for a day. I know it's stupid, just lately-"
"It's not stupid." Kiku interrupted. "I had a feeling this would be coming up sooner or later. I'm glad you told me."
"Wait, so then..." Feliciano said surprised.
"I have already been working on a cover story. In fact it was your brother who suggested it. We have been telling everyone that you are going to go out into town for a few days and do some reconnaissance. When in actuality you will be out just having fun."
Feliciano felt like a dumbstruck fool, but he felt his mouth creep into a smile. "Ve~ Lovino came up with that idea? And you helped?"
"Yes. Now why don't you get packed?"
Feliciano shook his head. "I'll get ready in the morning. Tonight, let's have fun with the others, ok?" Kiku smiled slightly and the two of them joined the others in the kitchen for beer and women.