"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it". - George Santayana

Knock. Knock.

“What’s the password?”

“Come on, Tony. We ain't got a password. Let me in before I let myself in.” Francesco laughed as the door opened to the basement of a bar, revealing a world of chaos beneath.

As Tony led him through the casino tables and women, Frankie greeted and shook the hands of familiar faces. Looking forward he saw a Marino in the corner of his eye.

“Sylvio. How are you?” He asked, kissing the older gentleman on the cheek. “I haven’t seen you since my last hospital visit.

“Francesco, how have you been?” He inquired, pouring them both a drink. “I know Dante would not be pleased to see you. But you have never bid me ill will.”

“I need help. Can you do that for me?”

“Frankie, you know the rules. The underboss can’t undermine orders. If it wasn’t for the fact that you are a Capo and a friend, you know where you would be.”

Dead. He didn’t have to say it. The longer I go without answers the more I feel it looming over me. Like a curse enveloping my choices.

“C’mon cousin, you don’t think I know the rules. I know that. And I also know that you don’t think I did it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so civil now.”

Sylvio laughed walking towards a door, pausing before opening it. “I know that. But D thinks otherwise. Convince the man yourself.”

Sylvio walked off, then turned. “If he lets you live, the next round is on me, Deal?”

“Deal, thank you, Syl.”

In front of Frank was the impossible. Convince the man who sent a hit out on you that you were worthy of seeing another day.

“Dante.”

“You got some nerve, Francesco. You know I should put a bullet in you for stepping foot in here, amongst the other things you did.”

“Hear me out. And if you don’t like my story then shoot me dead. Right now.”

Three men stood up, guns drawn on Frankie, desperately waiting for the command, tasting a promotion if the man in front of them died at their hands.

“You don’t get to negotiate with me. On my sister’s grave, I should kill you. You betray the family and then plea for your life. You’re not worthy to kiss my shoes. Let alone beg for another day.”

“Really Dante. If that were true why didn’t you finish the job back at the warehouse? Or in the hospital when I was in a coma. And you know if Isabella were here right now she would believe me. I mean come on.”

Frankie inched closer to Dante’s desk. Putting down a ring.

“This is your father’s ring. A ring he granted me to give to your sister, bless her heart. To show that he believed in my loyalty.

Hell, Lorenzo is dead. You believe he also was in on ratting. Dante use your head. It’s me.”

Dante waved the three men off, and took a seat, pointing to the one in front of him.

Frank sat down, waiting for his verdict.

“You act too much. Way to oversell it.” Dante laughed, before clapping his hands.

“Jeez man, I was a little scared you was gonna have those gavones shoot me on your nice carpet.”

“You’re not worth staining my floor, you wish.”

“Alright alright, but what is going on?”

“I wake up in a coma and Renzo is dead. What gives Dante, I thought our plan was going to work.”

“I don’t know, when I told you to be at the warehouse I didn’t expect Lorenzo to be there. He started shooting and somebody else, maybe a cop shot him. Rest in peace.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

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“That’s the dumbest thing I have heard. And you break that record pretty often Renzo.” Frankie sat in his chair, listening to his best friend go on and on about a foolproof plan. Yeah, a plan proving he was a fool if he went along with it.

“You wouldn’t have to do a thing. If we get Dante to come to suspect you of ratting, then the real rat will show their face thinking they won.”

“And who do you suspect that would be, for all I know this could be a set-up where we all die. Cops would write it off as something we deserved. Not even first page worthy in the papers.”

“Way to bring the mood down,” Caruso declared walking in, duffle bag in hand.

“I say it like I see it. Call it foreshadowing.”

“See what reading books get you. You think you know everything…”

“I do,” chimed Francesco, “ anyway, I won’t be coming on this one. I got to visit her that day.”

“Right, tell her I said hi.” piped Lorenzo, “Me too tell her we miss her,” spoke Caruso. “Don’t forget to give her the best flowers, on me.”

He stood up, kissed Frankie’s cheek in respect, and handed him a few bills.

“You know I can’t take that Ruso. I appreciate the thought.” Francesco placed the bills on the table and walked out the door to his car.

He got to his destination, flowers in hand, and spoke to the lady at a desk.

“Hey Frankie, go on back, she’s been waiting for you.”

“Right, thanks, Rosa.” He walked towards the back door and stopped in front of a grave.

Isabella Alice Santore.

Dusting off some leaves from the headstone, he knelt and placed the flowers down.

“Bella; Lorenzo and Caruso say hi. Your father is okay. Getting older of course. Dante is still the same, that jokester.

And me? I miss you more and more every day.

He raised his hat, like he always did, even back when they were together, before getting up and giving an envelope to Rosa.

“Here’s next month's payment and some more for your little one’s little league game. Get him some new shoes or something. How even is Leo? Still hitting home runs?”

“You know it! Thank you, Frankie.” Rosa gave him a big hug and walked him to the door.

As he pulled away from his beloved, his phone began to ring.

“Frankie, Caruso said we need to be there at the warehouse. To discuss that thing we did last week.”

“Alright, I’m coming. Make sure we are all there, I mean it Lorenzo, everyone.”

Click. Looks like Caruso took the bait. I have to call Dante.

“Yeah Dante, he grabbed the line.” “Good, I don’t know how you knew he would but better we find out now and not when there's a knife in my back.”

“See you soon.”

--

Click.

See Dante I told you they were a team. If you want to get to Frank you have to get Lorenzo to vouch for it. I mean it’s been that way since we were kids. Frankie only messed up when Lorenzo was involved. The schmuck.

Caruso paced the floor. “So how do we get the police to get off our backs? They need someone, and you want to give them Francesco?”

“He’s the best choice. I mean he visits that grave every week. Might as well reunite the couple.

Plus he isn’t a rat. If he does make it somehow, he would never think it was me, maybe you, but what are the odds he catches on to our plan?”

Dante lit his cigar, leaning back in his chair.

“The feds back off the Marino Family, we get security on our territory, and they think they have a mole in the system. Frankie is the best guy for the job. The man is as stubborn as they come.”

“And Lorenzo? What do we do with him?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle Renzo. Just worry about yourself, don’t get caught in the flames, when the match gets thrown.”

As Caruso walks out, Dante dials an unsaved number. “It’s done.”

“Thank you, Mr. Marino, don’t feel guilty. We contacted your father and he decided this was for the best as well. It’s not like Mr. Santore was family, right.”

“Right. He’s not.” Dante hung up the phone, avoiding the frame he had of his sister on his desk. “Forgive me, Bella. He is coming to see you soon, he whispered trying to convince himself this was in everyone’s interest.”

He called another man over the phone.

“When everything is done. Take Caruso on a long walk for me.”

The man in the navy suit on the other line responded.

“Consider it done.”