Authors Note: 'Thank you' should be written in the Guinness Book of World Records as the most overly-used, under-appreciated, complex and inexplicable word in the history of man. It encompasses too many things, too little emotion and too much intent.
I apologize for the delay and for the fact that this is a bit—well—obnoxiously boring. I will make another chapter as soon as I can and I will try to muster up the same sarcastic vein that gave birth to the other two. Real life, when it intrudes upon the creative, is an annoying pain in the butt.
October 28 2013 – Fine tuning is what most people might call it. Tweaking is what I think of it. And yeah that statement is still true—real life can be such a mean b—when it comes and reminds you that you have deadlines and school requirements.
REASONS and BENEDICTIONS
I to think I've discovered the secret of life –
you just hang around until you get used it.
- Charles Schulz
The sleek lines of a beautiful black sedan proclaimed its mechanical superiority and pride at its impeccable engineering prowess as it sliced silently through the lush, picturesque landscape of the countryside, eating up the long, empty distance with enviable ease. Inside the expectedly lavish interior, two men sat upon the butter-soft cream leather with cool indifference, the whole of their attention consumed by what any outside observer would obviously state as an intense and tension-filled staring contest.
The two men were a curious study of contrasts. Though both were blessed with classically handsome aquiline features, their expressions were certainly set in opposing mindsets. Blond, athletic looking and clad in the very first stare of fashion, the first occupant kept his own brilliant blue eyes trained on the man sitting in front of him with a slight smile on his thin lips. His unwitting partner in this unusual tête-à-tête, ebony haired, olive skinned and patrician featured, however stared back with guarded, assessing green-gold hazel eyes and lips kept firmly in line.
"Una lira per i vostri pensieri?"
A lira for your thoughts.
"Si potrebbe certamente spendere più di quello."
You might certainly end up spending more than that.
"Dimmi ciò che è veramente nella tua mente. Che voglio segreti tra noi."
Tell me what is truly in your mind. I want no secrets between us.
Eyes the color of leaves shot by the dappled rays of the sun narrowed in thought and circumspection. The statement—softly spoken and accompanied by an inviting smile could easily be mistaken for what it appeared to be—an indication of camaraderie. Nothing suggested that it was not as it seemed but neither was it the kind of thing one takes at face value.
No one in their right mind would spill their secrets and share confidences willy-nilly just because someone says so.
Taking a deep breath and letting it ease past tense lips in a silent hiss, he closed his eyes briefly and considered how to best frame his response. Despite of the convivial air that seemed to emanate from the charismatic blond sitting in front of him and the soft inviting tone in his voice—it would not do to just plunge into a discussion without any kind of preparation. Alessandro Valerius, 17th Head of the Corvino Famiglia mustered the rest of his resolve, opened his eyes and stared frankly at his erstwhile companion and prepared for the negotiation of his life.
"Perché hai scelto me?"
Why did you choose me?
" Perché il mio scelta da fastidio? "
Why does my choice bother you?
He wants to hear me reason out, Alessandro deduced. Like any good boss—any good leader knows, alliances are like business investments. It might grow into a very profitable venture or it could lead to a dead loss. The Cavallone Don seems eager to hear if he would downplay his own famiglia and defer to his own excellent foresight or if he would convince the Don that what he did was only expected.
"You are never foolish—not in matters of our world. You are a legend—the man who pulled the Cavallone Famiglia from the very brink of insolvency to turn it into the position of being one of the most powerful famiglia of the modern age. Many courted your favor and curried your indulgence and yet—to date—you have endorsed less than ten famiglias for the consideration of the most powerful one of us all."
"Devo ancora sentire una domanda." I have yet to hear a question.
"My famiglia is old and established. That much is true. We exist much like we have since the time when the rulers of Rome go by the Medici name. However, we are not powerbrokers in our world. What made you confer such a distinguished honor to my famiglia when our honor and our loyalty already belong to you and yours?"
Dino flashed the young man sitting in front of him an approving grin. One that grew only wider when the young man in question made no obvious overture.
"Ah…the age old question of intent. You are still suspicious that I would demand your very life's blood as my payment?"
"I'm realistic enough to know that if you desire it, my life's blood wouldn't even amount to much."
"Questo è vero."
That is true.
" Allora dimmi. Per favore."
So tell me. Please.
Dino reached out and tapped the privacy screen that separated the passengers from the driver's side. The scree slid with a discreet hiss revealing the familiar silhouette of the Cavallone Famiglia's Head Advisor.
"Che cosa avete bisogno, Padrone?"
What do you need Boss.
"Romario, il file per favore."
The file, if please.
Alessandro watched as the man who once came into his home to deliver a very unusual volume handed over a thick manila folder to his boss, gave a nod of acknowledgement in his direction and slid the partition close without another word.
"If you wish to know the reason why I have—what was it—condescend—to endorse you, the reasons are in here."
"A dossier on me?"
"On your entire famiglia since its inception."
"The—what—why? How did you—!"
"The ways how are immaterial, the indignation you feel, I assure you, would pass. The why—I would tell you now."
Alessandro stared at the fashionably disheveled and thoroughly disreputable-looking man that sat in front of him and felt another shiver crawl up his spine—though this one was definitely not due to some acute sense that he might be dealing with a capricious man with the inclinations of a child. No, this time his shivering body was covered in a fine layer of sweat as he realized that no one who looked and acted like the Cavallone Don could and would have lasted as long as he did, reached as high as he did, and commanded as much wealth and power as he did without learning a trick or ten at being cunning.
Screw cunning. This was no wolf in sheep's clothing. This is a man that was tutored on the lap of Machiavelli himself.
"But first call me Dino. If we are to establish good relations between our famiglia's from now on, then I suggest that you begin by learning to address me by my given name. Outside the stuffy, antiquated ceremonies demanded from us, I try as much as I am able, not to be too formal."
Clearly flustered, the young Don didn't know just quite how to respond and for a few minutes, all he did was open his lips and swallow nervously. He shifted on his seat and tried smoothing down his shirt only to realize that it was his pajama top. The reminder that he was clad in attire less than suitable for his current situation was a wakeup call and he tried to gather his slowly fraying composure.
"As you wish. I-I will try."
"Come now, it's not that hard. Call me Dino, ok? And I'll call you Val."
Val?Alessandro wanted to resist the urge to fidget. Really he did. But it was kind of impossible given his current situation.
"As you wish, Dino."
"Perfetto! Vedi, questo non è così difficile ora era?"
Perfect! See, that's not so hard now, was it?
The man beamed at him most disconcertingly and Alessandro once again prayed for patience and control. He mustered every ounce of self-possession in his command and waited for the man who seemingly held his future in his hand to speak. He glanced at the passing scenery to center himself and when his gaze swept back to his companion, it was to the sight of an icy composed and serious young Don. There was no trace of the playful teasing don that just congratulated him on using his given name.
I feel like I'm taking with someone with MS. The thought floated inside his head a split second before the Cavallone Don resumed speaking. And there was little doubt in his mind that it was the Don that was speaking now.
"It's true that I very rarely endorse anyone to the Head Famiglia. And despite rampant rumors, it's not because I wish to keep myself in a rarified position. The only truth you need to know is that I make my choices very rarely because I consider the man that stands at the head famiglia as my little brother and I wish to shield him from those who would use him and his power unduly."
"You are doing this to protect him?"
"In a nutshell. I endorse very few famiglias because the man they call Decimo, the man who controls the most powerful famiglia in the Underworld is a man blessed of deep compassion and decency. A man very much unknown and uncommon in a world such as ours. And as such he has certain proclivities—penchants if you will—that I, in my own minute capacity, try very much to accommodate."
"And these penchants—as you would call them…?"
"Ah yes. He will not deal with people whose businesses and practices indulge in the depravity of man. He will not allow himself to cause even more darkness to be born in our world. So he specified that when I make recommendations for those who wish to ally themselves with his famiglia, I choose those who have no ties with drug trafficking, prostitution, slavery, child imprisonment, experimentation or weapons development."
"Is the man standing at the top of our world a dreaming fool?"
The words that slipped past thin lips caught both of them surprise but they were words that could not be unsaid. Dino stared at the young man that spoke those tell-tale words and waited. For an apology or a retraction, one might never know. But the proverbial gauntlet has been thrown and an answer must be given. This is also a truth that Alessandro knew and understood.
Alessandro bit back the urge to swear once the words were out but he knew deep inside that what he said was only the truth. He was raised in the Underworld. He met countless men—leaders, subordinates and even the lowliest grunts who lived, breathed and died in the fields the Decimo is campaigning against. It was akin to wishing the tide to flow backwards when it comes to the shore.
He knew many who not only indulged in the depravities of man—they encouraged and reveled in it. He could not fathom how such a man could now stand above all of them with his lofty ideals of perfection and expect them to come to fruition. He is either an idealist or-
"He is not foolish—merely determined. And he knows that what he asks for isn't the easiest of thing to find in a world such as ours."
Alessandro winced at the sharp censure delivered with such measured tones. Even he—practical, seemingly stoic businessman that he is—could tell that the man sitting in front of him was exerting enormous amount of control not to snap his spine. Lips parting, he started to speak when an impatient wave of a hand stalled his words.
"Do not apologize. Your reaction is no different from all the other famiglia heads I have thus endorsed. And like them, they also wondered at what my little brother was thinking when he issued that promise. However, the truth is, he is determined to do his leadership his way. Thus the reason for the existence of your famiglia's dossier."
The words reminded him rather abruptly of the innocuous looking folder that now sits silently with them. The file, embossed with the official seal of the Cavallone Famiglia bears little weight to the facts stated just beneath its flimsy covering.
"Tu ci avevano svolto ricerche prima di dare la vostra approvazione."
You had us investigated before you gave your endorsement
It was not a question. He could recognize a carefully prepared dossier as well as any man who employs intelligence and information as a viable means of securing business negotiations. The modern leader of the underworld relies more on statistics than threats.
"Ma ovviamente." But of course
"Allora, che cosa ci ha reso passare? Che io e la mia Famiglia degno di tanto onore fatta?"
So, what made us pass? What made me and my famiglia worthy of such honor
Dino made a production of opening the files and moving his right index finger down a page before looking up and catching sight of the young Don warily sneaking glances at him. He gave the man a faint smile and nearly chortled when the don paled even more.
"Nessuna necessità di essere nervoso." No need to be nervous.
"Mi sento come se mio giudizio è venuto tutto troppo presto."
I feel like my judgment came all too soon
Dino resisted mightily the urge to tease the young don any further. He read the preliminary report placed on the very first page summarizing the files content and efficiently prepared and written in Romario's distinctive hand.
"You passed because your family is not involved in any activity that oppressed children, women or anyone else. You do not profit from the suffering of your fellowmen. You do not peddle drugs or guns nor incite wars for the benefit of revenue. You have legitimate businesses that simply employ your security force to protect your investments but never to do anyone any deliberate harm."
Alessandro stared at the man sitting in front of him with the expression of faint chagrin and incredulity. Of all the reasons he thought of and came up with—all of the pros and cons he was weighing inside his head, all the offers and counteroffers, negotiations and mergers that he could rattle off at the drop of a hand, here he was being told that he was picked—
"I was chosen because I was a clean-living, tax paying mob?!"
Dino tut-tutted. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."
"No, I'm not saying—it's just that in our world reputation is everything and to be damned by faint praise and endorsed because my family is decent—is a bit—!"
"The man that stands at the top of our world is bound and determined to change it. He doesn't want the shadows of our past nor the blood-stained histories that came before to be part of his reign. He wants a world where those who join us, do so because they share of our goals, our beliefs. While he is Decimo, he wants to do what he could to see that the blood we have accumulated be cleansed with actions that he could be proud of."
Alessandro looked once more at the man sitting in front of him and realized that he was in earnest. This fashionably clad, delinquent looking mob boss wanted the same thing as the mysterious man than commands fear and respect throughout their world and determined to do what he could do achieve that dream. Alessandro always believed that his grandfather and father were smart to 'clean up' the family business because it was the only way to survive the changing times. Now he wonders if perhaps, his own progeny had wanted a different world for him to live in.
"I see. I will not say I don't understand where he is coming from, nor will I dismiss his desires—but I hope he knows that the battle ahead of him would be long, arduous and often unrewarding one. Blood—it cannot help but be shed in this campaign he is waging. You cannot win a battle with just words—no matter how convincing or mesmerizing they are."
"He knows that well enough. The people around him remind him of it constantly. But my little brother is stubborn in matters that are near and dear to him. He cannot be swayed in his desire for a peaceful means of achieving his goal."
"Must be a burden on them too."
"Actually, I think they enjoy it."
"You can't be serious."
"Of course I am, why do you think I had to make that rule book?"
"I had thought because you were bored and trying to scare me to death."
"Well…there is that." The smile that painted the pale thin lips after he spoke was positively evil.
Alessandro wondered if the man practiced such a thing in front of the mirror to achieve the maximum effect. He was certainly proof positive that the sight caused a faint chill to crawl up his spine.
"Why did you send me that manual? I understood that, of all the members of the alliance to which my famiglia belongs, it is your endorsement that is most sought after and the one that is most difficult to obtain. And yet, within months of my inheritance ceremony, I received word of your intention to give me your blessing—I confess that I was apprehensive at what cost such a largess from you would entail, Don Cavallone."
"Are you asking me Don Corvino what it is I intend to gain by giving you such a gift?"
"As rude as that may seem…a man in my position cannot afford to be fuzzy about such matters."
"No one would ever accuse a man of your learning and reputation to be fuzzy."
"And no one would ever accuse a man of your reputation of doing something so plainly fickle and addlepated because you have nothing better to do and that a stray thought caught your hair in a tizzy."
At this offhand comment Dino looked genuinely chagrined. He glanced behind the privacy screen as if to make sure that his regent was not there pinning him with a knowing smirk. The young Cavallone Don went so far as to actually rub his nape sheepishly before muttering.
"Really? Actually I seem to recall at least two people who said that about me whenever I did some things."
"Only two?" Alesandro murmured disbelievingly. He stared at the grinning don and snorted. "Are you sure there isn't an entire continent out there filled with people with somewhat similar complaints?"
"An entire continent? Hey! That seems excessive, don't you think?"
"Don Cavallone, I ask this question with every ounce of diplomacy and tact at my disposal and I am hoping that you will not take undue offense—but are you sure you are not just the tiniest bit insane?"
Alessandro had to bite back the urge to swear when the man had the temerity to blink and ask with convincing innocence.
"Oh now, Val, why in the world would you say something like that?"
"Oh, I don't know—the fact that you kidnapped me from my home whilst clad in nothing more than a pair of pajamas no one other than my valet should ever see?"
"Pshaw! That's nothing. Perfectly decent thing and it covers everything pertinent doesn't it?"
Dino wanted to resist the urge to laugh out loud at the man who was clearly fighting the urge to say something scathing to his face if not do him actual physical violence. He knew the man had reason enough—after all, he dragged the man out of the comfort of his home at the crack of dawn giving no quarter for explanations, excuses or even the decency of providing the man a cup of coffee.
All in all, the man was displaying remarkable control and serenity in the face of such mad actuations. It sealed the deal as far as he was concerned and made teasing the man all the more enjoyable.
"Don Cavallone, that is hardly the point here and you know it—please!"
"Fine, fine. You have made your point young raven. Don't you have any other questions for me?"
"A fair few actually. But before I do—will you please drive me back to my mansion? I'm getting cold and I normally have breakfast by now and if I'm not in my room when Mossimo comes, he'll over-react and that would be problematic."
"Because you might find yourself waging war on some hapless neighbor?"
"That would be the least of my annoyance."
"Really?" Dino looked at his irate companion and asked simply. "Then what worries you?"
The answering glare that the young Corvino Don leveled his way could have singed a three-meter thick concrete wall and burned a great big hole in the very ozone. The gritted words that were spitted out from terse, thin lips grated even the most benevolent of ears and made the speakers temper quite known.
"That he would tell my father that I actually got myself kidnapped from my own room, from the depths of my own famiglia's stronghold, dragged through my own front door, by the head of my own famiglia's bloody alliance. I would rather declare war on some hapless neighbor and engage him in a lengthy, costly and pointless battle than for them—for Mossimo—for anyone—to know about this fiasco and live to remind me about it every single time he sees my face."
"Oh…"
"Well…?"
The Cavallone Don's cheeks were awash in a telling blush and he gave the irate don a nod. He tapped his chin contemplatively before nodding and agreeing genially.
"I suppose this situation is my fault…."
"Suppose?! Now, WHATEVER gave YOU that idea?"