Authors Note: No, nothing has changed. KHR isn't mine and let's admit it—it could never be mine. Real life has once again intruded and made mincemeat of my ideas. Sadly I will be taking a short vacation for 2 weeks but I have already drafted the end of this tale. Now whether that would take 2 chapters or 1 is something I am leaving to the discretion of my fickle-minded, lazy-ass of a Muse. Who, like the two main characters in the book "Good Omens", could be infinitely generous with assistance while being viciously ingenious in providing me with mental blocks when I so desperately needed my creative juices flowing.
To those who have read, laughed, snorted and frowned uncomprehendingly over this piece of work, my eternal gratitude. You have given me a gift for which there are simply not enough words.
October 2013 – I am, as I mentioned, tweaking this piece of work before plunging into the writing of the final chapter. And yes, I have decided to keep it under 5 chapters because I figured if I have to think of what happens in yet another chapter, I just might blow up my own head. Well, that or never write again. And let's admit, me not writing is going to be even more tragic—because I don't have a buck to spare for therapy.
Onwards then.
Driving and Dealing with the Devil
Each player must accept the cards life deals him or her:
But once they are in hand, he or she alone must decide
How to play the cards in order to win the game.
Voltaire
Twelve hours later, amidst the cool, shadowed recesses of another speeding limousine's luxurious interior, two men of contrasts once again sat. This time however, the contrast is not in their sartorial tastes but rather in the set lines of their expressions and the tension-filled body language that conveyed a myriad of emotions spanning the spectrum.
The younger of the two, clearly distracted and not at all as calm as the picture he presented, sat listlessly as he stares, unseeing at the passing scenery. His hands, arranged in his lap, moved with nervous energy, one clutching a small slim volume with his long fingers, the other tapping a staccato rhythm of flips and flicks with varying regularity like an erratic pianist jumping from one piece to the other.
The other however, was the very picture of stillness. If not for the occasional adjustment of weight whilst the vehicle traversed the long road and the faint rise and fall of the chest lying beneath the impeccably tailored black suit and white shirt, one could almost convince one's self that the limousine's other occupant was nothing more than a cleverly dressed and well-emulated doll.
As the silence grew even more stifling, Alessandro glanced absently at his lap, contemplating the thin volume held captive by the long fingers of one hand while the other still tapped an imaginary tune along the leather spine. He was about to switch hands when a heavy, scar-laden one landed on top of his and stilled any further movement. Surprised, he turned olive gold eyes towards his until recently silent co-passenger and blinked at the barely leashed wrath that greeted him when the man spoke.
"Smettila. Si tratta disconveniente di un capo di uomini a tradire i suoi nervi a tutti ".
Stop that. It is unbecoming of a leader of men to betray his nerves to anyone with eyes
The words were softly spoken but they might as well have been shouted for all the impact it had within the closed confines of the vehicle. The man who spoke wore the ubiquitous black suit with a narrow black tie held firmly in place by a golden tie-bar engraved with the Corvino seal. His face, finely lined by the unforgiving Tuscan sun and weathered by experience and life, wore an expression of mortification and smoldering anger not normally seen by anyone, let alone the young man he has been serving all his life.
Taking a deep breath, Alessandro slowly pulled his hands away from the man he would've bet his entire inheritance wasn't the type to snipe at him so malevolently. He pinned his regent with an even look from beneath his lashes before deciding to speak. When he spoke his voice, to his own surprise, was gentle but firm. Now, was not the time to be flippant. Now was the time to assert himself in the unusual situation they found themselves in.
"Se hai qualcosa da dire a me Mossimo, ora sarebbe il momento ideale per farlo."
If you have something to say to me Mossimo, now would be an excellent time to do it.
"Come potreste permettere a voi stessi di essere sottoposto a tale vergogna?"
How could you allow yourself to be subjected to such shameful display?
The man growled at him. That much was a break in Mossimo's very nature. The man usually had a much more glib tongue and even more forgiving, easy nature. They in the Corvino Famiglia believed that the world would end and Mossimo would not even have a single hair out of place. But even with that surprise he didn't miss a beat. He responded with alacrity that caused surprise to flash momentarily in those dark, wise eyes.
"Non dovrei alloggio che censura presso di voi e le guardie sotto il tuo commando?"
Shouldn't I be lodging that accusation at you and the guards under your command
The mortified flush that washed across Mossimo's face and the spark of tormented anguish and helpless fear that appeared in the man's dark eyes almost made him regret allowing the man to go through his temper tantrum. Almost. But he knew better now, than Mossimo himself, that things needed to be said out aloud before they can move past it. This situation was only the beginning. They both must learn that there are now boundaries that they must cross together as Boss and subordinate. There would be no turning back now and Mossimo needs to know that he will be the one leading and not the other way around. He is now the Head of the famiglia and no longer Mossimo's untried, naïve young charge.
Mossimo's words were quiet and formal but he has known him all his life and he could tell when no other when true emotion laced his regent usually indifferent tones.
"Then why aren't you? Why do you sit there, tense and wary like an untried youth? Why have you not demanded my blood and those under my command for the insult we have lain at your feet? Why are you so uncaring for the affront we have brought to your family and your name? The humiliation I have caused your honorable name?"
Any other time and he would've broken out the camera and recorded his normally stoic valet's epic meltdown for posterity and future blackmail's sake. And while he did feel a small kick from his conscience for his thoughts, as well as kick from the same conscience for not thinking about it more in advance, he had other matters to think about in the meantime. He could find other ways to induce a meltdown in Mossimo when things in his life finally settle down. For now, he must deal with his subordinates wounded pride as best and as quickly as possible.
"Cambierebbe qualsiasi cosa Mossimo?"
Would it have changed anything Mossimo
The words only made the mortified expression on his valet's face even more pronounced and he bit down the automatic apology that yearned to slip past his lips. He knows that he was hurting his faithful vassal—more so than necessary, but if he was to be truly Mossimo's leader, the man needs to learn what his place should and would be in the grand scheme of their lives together. He could not bow down to Mossimo's rule. Not now and maybe not ever again. Not anymore.
"Cambierebbe qualcosa?Disfare ciò che è già accaduto?"
Would it change anything? Undo what has already occurred?
"Sarebbe almeno mi dia la possibilità di recuperare il mio onore!"
It would at least give me a chance to regain my honor.
"You know, that's a singularly Eastern philosophy you live by Mossimo. It's interesting how no one has ever noted that before about your clan."
Alessandro allowed himself the faintest of smiles—one that was unfortunately not missed by the already miserable Mossimo and interpreted—or in this case, misinterpreted by him, quite thoroughly. Unaware of this fact, he gave voice to his new-found realization and watched as his usually very self-controlled, self-possessed regent lose his temper.
"Are you mocking me? Has my inefficiency caused you to reduce me to veiled slurs and vague platitudes? Are you now questioning the credo by which I've lived by all my life because of this incident? Am now unworthy of being in your service?"
"Mossimo, stop being such a drama queen. Such display is unbecoming of someone in your position."
Mossimo's voice grew even more frigid and icy in its formality and deference, reminding him that his valet and regent did not shout when annoyed but rather reduced those around him to shreds by the efficient and effective lashing of his tongue.
"I am a vassal in the Corvino household. I am your valet, your second in command, your Regent. I am the one who has stood by your for years and in all that time I have lived with the pride that I am doing my job—and in one night—I have lost my honor. And instead of punishing me and stripping me of my pride you sit before me composed and unconcerned as if the dishonor I have brought upon you is immaterial!"
"It is immaterial because as far as I am concerned, there is no dishonor for me to attach to your name and no need for me to impugn your honor, no room for me to complain. Truthfully, I don't understand why you of all people would be upset when I was the one taken out of my own stronghold with nary a twitch from anyone."
"Why do you think I'm incensed like this? I am upset! I care for whatever godforsaken fate befalls you and all I am asking is why you haven't even shouted at me for what happened! Is that too much to ask that you to react with something more than stoic acceptance?"
Alessandro blinked. And then he blinked again. Mossimo was fuming and he needed to address the matter as quickly and efficiently as possible or else it would end up being a bigger clusterfuck than it already is. He needed his calm, quietly supportive and capable second hand and with time running out, he needed Mossimo more than ever. He also needed a way to calm him down quickly. With another heartfelt sigh, his hands tightening reflexively at the thin volume of mindless insanity he held in his hand, he tried explaining as gently as he could.
"Quello è perché di la regola numero 4."
That's because of rule no. 4.
"Rule no. 4? What the fuck is Rule no 4?!"
Gently, he tipped the thin leather volume open and flipped it to the appropriate page, inviting Mossimo to peruse the page before him with a wave of his hand. Mossimo gave him one good, long glare before his eyes fell on the page and he started reading aloud.
Regola Numero Quattro
Rule no. 4
For those whose qualifications bestow upon them the ultimate prize of a personal endorsement from the House of Cavallone, fair warning is to be issued: you will end up at one point extracted, relieved, hauled, removed, taken, abducted, shanghaied, snatched and kidnapped at one point or another.
Please do not be alarmed.
It would also be in your best interest to stave off any idea of retaliation from your subordinates as this would not be of merit to them or you.
Consider this as your final test. When this hurdle is overcome—you will be given a formal appointment for your meeting with the head.
This is by no means the easiest task. This is highly critical and arrangements should be made accordingly. Have a copy of your notarized last will and testament prepared immediately and kept on your person at all times.
Alessandro watched his valet—the man he knew quite well to be capable of speed-reading documents at a decent 250 words per minute—stare at a single sheet of bound foolscap for close to two uncomprehending minute.
He was prepared to wait, of course. It was the only decent thing since when he was shown that particular page he did himself the practical and fabulous service of fainting. At least all Mossimo did was lose a shade of two in his complexion and imitate a landed carp. Truthfully, his valet was a truly admirable man.
The short, emphatic invective that he muttered when he did speak was a revelation to the young don and it made him crack a smile since having been so rudely woken up that day.
"Good-fucking Goddammit...!"
"Well…that's kinda vivid even for you but I think I said the same thing to the Cavallone when he told me about it."
Mossimo pointed at the page, his index finger hovering barely an eighth of an inch away from the paper's surface but by sheer force of will, even when his hand trembled, Mossimo's fingertips didn't so much as sigh on the very edge of the page.
"It's actually fucking there. Written down in fucking paper... immortalized by fucking ink on fucking vellum."
"Mossimo, you're quickly reaching your cursing quota."
The man blinked at the smiling young man in front of him and muttered distractedly, "I have a fucking curse quota?"
"Yes…one you insisted I abide by since I was thirteen. You started a swear jar somewhere down the line after I cursed a blue streak at my latest tutor."
"The silly Sicilian that wanted to use a swatch of birch to 'discipline' you? The one that dressed like a fruitcake and smelled worse that an entire block of bordello mama's at sunset?"
"That one."
"Yes, well, you must admit my lord. THIS thing tops even THAT in sheer insanity."
"Yes. Frightful thing is, I think we're about to be subjected to something far worse."
Mossimo visibly shuddered at the imagery such words induced. "I'd advise you not to say that again my lord. The idea is fairly so disturbing I am actually quite honestly, contemplating throwing myself out of this speeding car."
Alessandro gave his second in command and regent a gimlet look from his gold-green eyes and then proceeded to give the man that practically raised him a smile that could and would probably make a shark wary.
"Why do you think I had the locks set since we sat in here? I don't want you escaping when I know full well I couldn't."
Mossimo didn't want to give in to his young master's taunting but something about the way that smile looked made him take the statement seriously. He found his hand reaching out towards the car's door handle forgetting even at that moment that they were in motion.
"You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?"
"You suck Boss."
"Yes, but consider this—if we die here, you wouldn't have to suffer under me for very long."
"Yes, but I'd probably end up dead with you and then who would I complain to?"
"Good point."
Though now both were clad in expensive, beautifully tailored black suits, the difference remained the oddly enough the same. Dino stared at the now more or else even keeled and fed young don and waited for him to speak. His blue eyes assessed the man that sat directly across from him, noting the hands that the man kept neatly on his lap, green-gold eyes staring at his opulent surroundings with commendable indifference. Other than a single glance at his second-in-command, the newly crowned Don of the Corvino Famiglia gave no indication that he was anywhere he didn't want to be.
Dino was even more amused by the fact that the act of looking unconcerned and unflappable took such a toll on the young don that it took for the man a full minute to realize that he had begun to speak. Alessandro Corvino visibly jumped when Dino cleared his throat once more.
"Chiedo scusa, Don Cavallone…I had—well, thoughts keep intruding…I apologize. Did you say something?"
"Merely inquiring what you were brooding about."came his quick reply. The Corvino don merely shrugged broad elegantly clad shoulders and affected a small conciliatory smile.
"Brooding seems a tad too strong a word for what I was indulging in. Woolgathering I think might be more apt. Again I apologize. It's a habit they've despaired ever breaking me off."
Dino found himself looking at Mossimo who was nodding—signaling the truth of his young boss' statements.
"Though I confess to wondering about a great many things—one of which is why I actually allowed myself to be shanghaied by you again without any idea where in God's green earth you're taking me."
"I consider it a remarkable show of character and trust."
"Or idiocy." Alessandro replied laconically. Dino grinned and nodded.
"That too. But no matter. At least this time around you are not alone, right?"
Alessandro gave Mossimo another glance before inclining his head to the Cavallone Don with a short, deferential nod acknowledging the largess for what it was—a sign that the impulsive, often incomprehensible Don was trusting his own Regent by offering him a place at his side.
"That indeed, is something to be grateful for."
The Cavallone Don nodded before moving forward, forging his way towards the very heart of the opulent mansion where he directed for them to meet. The palatial structure was in various stages of renovation and here and there quick, loud arguments could be heard and what seemed like misplaced soft booming sounds that Alessandro quickly resolved not to think about too deeply. He simply moved to follow and keep track of the swift and sure-footed Cavallone repeating a dictum Mossimo once candidly told him when he was an impetuous mouthy teen:
Contrary to most belief—curiosity did not kill the cat. Stupidity did and satisfaction put a spin on things and curiosity simply got the blame.
Mossimo, for all his faults, foibles and finickiest habits, always knew what to say in order to teach him a useful life lesson.
"Today, I figured it's time to let you take a deeper plunge before I really put your mettle to the test."
"What do you mean by that Don Cavallone?"
"Oh, call me Dino. I told you that. Now, the head famiglia will be hosting a small gathering for their newest allied members three days from now. I intend for you to be included in the list of invitees. By the by, how many of those things have you read?"
Alessandro quietly thanked Mossimo's impeccable timing for discreetly holding on to his elbow to stall the would-be collision. He looked at the eager-looking Cavallone and tried to string together the confusing message that seemed to pour out of the powerful don's mouth with frightening ease.
"Things? Oh, you mean the rules in your journal. Well, I have read through all of the pages, of course, but I must apologize since I haven't had the time to fully comprehend what it all means. But I am grateful since you did begin with the most important one after all and I—!"
The Cavallone interrupted him abruptly with a raised hand and a delighted look in his eyes.
"The most important one? Did you actually start at the end?"
Alessandro blinked uncomprehendingly at the man. His eyes flicked even towards Romario, the don's Chief Advisor, hoping for some clarity.
"The end? Of course not! I started naturally at number one which I assume is the best rule."
"Numero uno!? Ma questa è-! Dei!"
The man dissolved into short, snorting chortles that shook his entire frame. Alessandro suffered through the sight with admirable control and waited until something intelligible came out of the clearly amused Cavallone Don. The truth that it took a considerable amount of self-control not to throttle the man was a fact known only to Mossimo whose hand discreetly clutched the back of his young master's coat to prevent any movement that he might later grow to regret.
"Don Cavallone! Don—Dino! I wish you would stop laughing so much like I loon. It's hard to convince myself that I must respect you when you laugh at the oddest things! Now I must insist that you make sense and do stop chortling so!"
Dino valiantly tried to control his amusement but the scandalized look in the young Don's face made the effort difficult. Mustering every ounce of his control, he wiped surreptitiously at the tears streaming out of his eyes and tried to marshal his senses once more.
"Do forgive me, Don Corvino—Val, but I must've presented that book incorrectly."
Alessandro quickly whipped out the thin volume and gave it a short shake.
"You mean all this time this book is nothing more than-!"
"Again, you misunderstand me. The content is correct. Only the order of their importance was misrepresented."
"I'm afraid I do not understand."
"I can see that now. Please, shall we take a seat? I think there is still much we need to clear up before we can proceed."
"I think so too."
And so they followed Romario as the man lead them to a pair of magnificently carved oak double doors. Sweeping them open, he allowed them to all pass through before giving an order that coffee and light repast be prepared and ushered into the room before closing the doors behind him. Standing guard, he and Mossimo assumed their usual spots by the door as the two dons settled into a pair of armchairs artfully placed to face one another.
"Now, Don Cavallone, if you do not mind explaining."
"Oh yes, of course. May I?" He held out his hand for the thin volume and Alessandro for some reason, was reluctant to part with his only guide to the madness that has become his world. He shook his head and handed it over. Dino gave a small smile and allowed the pages to flip idly as he turned it in his hands.
"The rules in this book is not wrong Don Corvino so rest assured, you have not spent the better part of the month wasting your time."
"But you said-!"
"I said the order was wrong. The first rule that you read about—what was it?"
"Timing is everything."
Dino nodded appreciatively at the prompt reply.
"Infatti,è. And while this is a cardinal rule when dealing with the Head Famiglia, timing, you will learn, indeed schedules and everything, hardly ever works seamlessly in that famiglia."
Alessandro shook his head and allowed some of his confusion to surface, gesturing towards one of the annotation on the page.
"But there is proof! There is after all the Testarossa Incident—isn't that proof positive of the validity of this rule being the very first?"
"While you are not wrong in citing the matter with the Testarossa famiglia—I'm afraid they are more the exemption rather than the rule. Truthfully, the list is rated from the lowest of importance—to the highest. I suppose the mistake was mine since I wrote this in the eastern manner—copying the Japanese manner of writing from right to left rather than the more—in your case—familiar left to write. That is to say, so far, all the rules you have known, understood and I assume, seen and experienced thus far—I'm afraid to say, have been the tamest and easiest to follow.
Alessandro looked back at all that he had experience since the day Romario appeared with it at the Corvino family mansion. He recalled the shock of finding the tragic end to an established family. He recalled the shiver of apprehension that crawled up his spine at having inadvertently challenged the mysterious 'Foundation' of the so-called Cloud guardian. He could still feel the cold sweat that had broken upon his brow when he saw first-hand the kind of 'personalities' hovered close to the head of the most powerful famiglia in their world.
It shook him to the core as nothing else to comprehend that all the rules he has learned and understood constituted a mere fraction of the immense madness that he was about to delve into. Alessandro wondered anxiously what other 'rules' could possibly top those he had already struggled to acknowledge and make sense of.
Dino, clearly interpreting the 'deer-in-the-headlight' look of panic that was currently possessing the young Corvino Don, took the time to wait for the man to gather his wayward thoughts. Calmly taking small sips of coffee from the cup Romario had handed him, he watched and waited patiently as Mossimo, the young don's seneschal and second-in-command handed a similar looking cup to his superior and spoke softly to him. When Alessandro finally took a sip or two and released a ragged breath from pale lips, Dino decided the man has sufficiently recovered. He began to speak once more.
"I thought, perhaps, that exposing you to the others, one at a time would soften the shock."
"Shock Don Cavallone? I am afraid that nothing you can say will be anything but a shock to me so I am going to simply sit here and listen to it as stoically as possible. Surely, your endorsement was not intended to incapacitate me through madness and even if it was—may I remind you that I still have my two sisters to take over my place."
Dino gave out a proud smile at the display of perseverance on the part of the Corvino don. Toasting the man with his cup, he gave him a wicked grin and proceeded with his explanations with glee.
"Good man! Now that you're bound and determined to see this through, I think it would be best if you meet with some of the guardians now rather than have them sprung on you so suddenly. You see, they need some getting used to, so to speak."
Alessandro allowed himself to frown at the willful, smiling Don. He deserved much more than that of course, he was certain, but in the meantime it was all he had at his disposal.
"Surely the personal guardians of a powerful man-any guardian behaves in much the same fashion as any other?"
Dino nodded. "That is of course the logical assumption regarding the matter. However, I am afraid even in this matter, the Vongola Famiglia guardians are less than expected."
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand. They are his guardians. Surely they were informed—trained and guided to act a certain way by their predecessor?"
"That would be the conventional expectation, of course. But the Vongola Famiglia Guardians have always marched to a slightly different tune, you see. You could say delight in breaking the mold and obliterating any preconceived expectations."
"Do they not perform the usual duties and responsibilities of a guardian? Are they lacking in some manner that sets them apart?"
"Oh they do their duties, and splendidly, for some, I might add. The problem is not in their awareness of their duty, I'm afraid, but rather in their very nature and how they translate their duties through the varied aspect of their personalities."
"That is—unfathomable."
"Certainly one way to say it.
"Will I survive tonight?"
"That's a question I leave to you. Goodluck, Don Corvino. And don't worry—we're prepared to pay for however much your therapy costs in the future."
Dino stood up abruptly and held out a hand to the man staring at him openly with such suspicion and outright wariness. He, however, was delighted to note that welling deep within the young Don's distinctive green-gold eyes burned the unmistakable flame of curiosity and challenge.
"Perhaps your rule book should reveal fully that it is intent is to drive the reader to utter folly."
"You have no idea. Trust me; there is no way to explain them. Experiencing them is all that I can offer you by way of desensitization. Come with me, Don Corvino. Let me usher you in to the madhouse that is Vongola."