Mobster's Bet: Lascia che sia Dio a Decidere: Chapter 1 – Setting Up the Game

Chapter 1 – Setting Up the Game

Running a casino is harder than it may seem. You can’t just give people the exact games that are in every casino and let old and new addicts fund your business until the day you die. There’s competition. Some people get bored with what you offer. There’s politics and certain groups who want you shut down. The house may rig the odds in its favor, but it can also go bust if one aspect of the equation goes wrong.

My brother, Cesare, and I run the joint casinos, Peter and Paul, in the city of Amore Fraterno, along with a couple of others in the suburbs. We introduce new games and keep the old ones around. We bring back fan-favorite shows, musicians, and boxers to entertain the crowds and let new talent take the stage every once in a while. In my casino, Paul, I feature experimental and new games, host gaming competitions, and sponsor conventions. As for my brother’s casino, Peter, he has the reliable old slots, poker, and so on, hosts concerts, and showcases boxing competitions from newcomers to veterans.

Between our casinos, we also have a hotel, arcades, golf, mini golf, bowling, and some other things for the family, including an animatronic restaurant. We also have a mall with various restaurants and places to shop. Don turned corporate boss, Carlo Giocare, has been helping us arrange deals and contracts to get the best in the business to work with us and be at our casino. Today, he meets us at one of our best breakfast restaurants. He’s a pudgy guy who you wouldn’t know owned anything other than the clothes off his back, his car, house, and the little things that decorated it, because of how cheap everything he has is. His suit, pants, tie, and shoes are a dull brown, and his shirt is white. His dark brown hair looks like it was fixed with nothing more than water and his hands, but he has a healthy face.

In contrast, I have a white trench coat draped over my shoulders, a black fedora with red ribbon, a black and gold suit, a red tie, and black pants and shoes. As for my brother, Cesare wears a grey and blue version of the same outfit I have, except his trench coat is a dark grey, and he has a blue bowtie.

As we eat and talk business, Carlo seems to know what I was thinking about as he says, “You know I don’t buy myself fancy things because they do me any good. You boys need to dress well because you have to represent your casino business, so I don’t judge you for getting your fancy suits. Always make your money work for you. That’s what it’s for. Most people think that having more money will make them happier, but they’re wrong. Money sitting in a bank account collects dust; however, money given to a charity, to the Church, and to associates to help them out does wonders.”

“Are you asking for more money from our agreement then?” I ask.

“Hahaha, no, Vincenzo. What we agreed on is fine enough for me. Plus, the services and entertainment your brother and your casinos provide are to my exact tastes.”

“You were basically given full control of what went into it since you said your other partners didn’t let you do that to their casinos,” Cesare points out.

“Right, so, how is the business treating you? I know it’s still new to you, but it has to be easier than being a car mechanic, as you both used to be.”

“Yes and no,” I say. “There’s no physical work involved, but it requires us to use our heads more.”

“That shouldn’t be a big deal, given your strategic mind, Vincenzo.”

“Yeah, but being involved with business is something else entirely. It’s a huge headache to deal with people who want to give me bad deals, ally with horrible political ideologies, and the Karen-type customers who fake emergencies and problems so they can get more at a lower price or free and threaten to sue. I might as well be working in the criminal world for how shady the corporate deals seem and how people want to use loopholes in the law to make more money.”

“Ha! You’re right about that. Politics and business hardly run any differently than a criminal empire. The only difference is that the criminals have to appear legitimate, while those in power can have new laws written to cover their crimes.”

“This is why I’m not handling the business and planning aspect,” Cesare says as he kicks up his feet on the table.

“What about Mrs. Marin Campione? How’s your wife handling the business trade, Vincenzo?”

“A bit better than me, given that she’s more used to dealing with people than I am. She’s holding up despite also having to juggle being a mother of four.”

“Speaking about that, are we having a competition that I don’t know about?” Cesare asks. “It’s been a little over two and a half years, and you’ve managed to have four children, even though Okazaki and I had a child first.”

“No, we aren’t. It’s just that Marin wanted at least four children, and at this rate, she’ll want another one or two next year.”

“I hear you. Still, Okazaki feels like she has to catch up and wants us to have our fourth child by the end of this year.”

“You boys are still boys. My wife and I have ten children. By then, the number of children will mean nothing to you and your families, and your parents won’t be asking you to have any more,” Carlo says.

“Back to business. How was the walkthrough of the casinos and their amenities?” I ask.

“They’re all great and in good condition. What really matters to me is the condition of their bosses, and you boys seem to be doing well. You’re holding up your morals, still going to church, not giving in to bad deals, not compromising your beliefs for money, and giving to the family when needed, so you’re all good in my book. I’ll be enjoying the rest of my week’s long work-vacation here with my family, and I’ll let you know if there’s anything that needs fixing, okay?”

Cesare and I thank Carlo for his evaluation and tell him we hope he and his family enjoy their stay. Next on the agenda, we meet with a go-between for our family, Don Joseph Decoro, an old man and one of the first dons of the five families who still holds onto power as if it’s tied to his soul, just like Russell Tranquillo, the old man all the bosses listen to and the man my brother originally worked for as a car mechanic. As a veteran of the business, Joseph is here to make sure the backroom deals are going well. He wears an old-fashioned suit and has gray hair, and, like Carlo, looks like an old man you’d think is being taken care of by his children and grandkids rather than one of the most powerful men in the country. He sees the guns, the files on businessmen and politicians, and our closest clients receiving the best food and drinks while enjoying high-stakes games where millions and one-sided partnerships are on the line.

While admiring the guns, Joseph asks, “Aren’t some of these guns going overseas?”

“They will be leaving for the docks once the final arrangements are made, which is tonight. Many of the decision makers are here as we speak,” I say.

“Good. They better get us back our casinos in Cocodrilo and get rid of those Vorfahren bastards that run it. I want that supreme leader, commander, Fidel, or whatever his name is, dead. People are too quick to trust dictators who take power for themselves using others because they think they’ll get something out of it, but now look at Cocodrilo. It’s a third-world pigsty because Fidel and his people get all the riches and screw everyone else.”

“They’ll be taken care of. With our guns and the backing of the army, that island will be back under our control.”

“I only wish I could go myself,” Cesare says, offhand.

“No, you shouldn’t. You’re living like a true boss, so there’s no reason for you to do anything other than giving orders and keeping your hands completely clean,” Joseph says. “This is why you two worked so hard to get the newest president into office. He’ll handle Cocodrilo for us and the threat across the seas.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” I say.

After making his inspection, Joseph goes to talk to some people in legit businesses that he’s known for years. Since we’re here, Cesare and I go up to our next partner of interest. His name is Anthony “Joker” Ronaldo, and he’s enjoying playing poker with his friends. He’s from the Israeli mafia and a pro in the gambling scene who makes sure the odds are always in his favor. He has blue eyes and brown hair, and wears a simple black and white suit, tie, pants, bowtie, and shoes, and seems to be drinking a bit too much, given his behavior and all the bottles around him.

Joker looks at us and says, “My people usually involve hookers of various ages and drugs in their backrooms. It usually attracts more people and allows for a better time.”

“We’re not like that, Mr. Ronaldo,” I say.

“Ah, that’s right. You’re men of honor. I forgot. How goes that new pope of yours? I trust that he won’t give us trouble like the last and have to be dealt with, or have a meeting arranged with his God, as you people say.”

“No, he won’t. As far as we know, he isn’t compromised by the Vorfahren ideology, and they’re keeping off him as a way of showing they’re tolerant of opposing beliefs.”

“Ah, but they don’t do that to people of mine, eh?”

“And we aren’t tolerant of theirs.”

“Obviously. We wouldn’t be working together if we were.”

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Ronaldo?”

“I could use another pretty face to keep me company. Your wives wouldn’t be a bad choice.”

“Son of a bitch,” Cesare says.

I hold my brother back as he aggressively approaches Joker, fists clenched.

Joker laughs and says, “I’m just saying you chose well! I wouldn’t want to spoil our business relationship by getting handsy with them. I promise! Marin has a wonderfully brilliant mind, and Okazaki always has interesting stories to tell because of her connection to the supernatural. We’d just talk business if I saw them. Nothing more.”

“We trust you, Mr. Ronaldo. Please, continue to enjoy yourself,” I say.

“Oh, I will!”

After Cesare and I leave the backroom, he asks me, “Do we really need to be associated with that guy? He’s such a creep.”

“He’s a friend of a friend, and as long as we can keep him happy, we’ll keep our relationship with the Israeli mafia stable. Besides, if he can fix the World Series like he said he did, then he can help us get ahead in sports betting,” I explain.

Cesare scoffs and walks ahead of me to our next meeting. We go to the Peter casino, where Fontaine Fontalloro is singing and his dancers twirl around him. This is a sort of free performance that comes with dinner for each person here. Fontaine is our special entertainment for this month, with other singers, bands, and performers lined up for the next year. Cesare and I call our wives to watch his performance just as it’s starting. Cesare’s wife, Okazaki, has puffy blonde hair that’s partially colored pink with black stripes on it; she wears a pink dress, white stockings, pink heel boots, and a gold miraculous medal, a gold cross, and a gold St. Benedict medal. My wife, Marin, has straightened out blonde and purple hair, a purple and black shoulder jacket, a spotted purple dress, black pantyhose, purple heels, a golden belt, and seven golden bracelets, three on one arm and four on another, each blessed with particular Scripture and saint quotes on them.

Our wives have been dressing this way ever since we got the casino to show both their wealth and their business side to dazzle us and everyone they meet. Some people think it’s weird that we married seemingly vain women, but they’re more virtuous than they seem, despite their lavish sense of fashion. It all serves a purpose to get people thinking a certain way towards them. Before they sit down, Cesare and I kiss and hug our respective wives and tell them how the day’s been going so far.

“It’s been going. How are you?” Okazaki asks Cesare.

“As fine as I can be,” Cesare says while wiping his face as if trying to get the tiredness and stress out of it, and then lights a cigar to smoke.

“Don’t let Ronaldo and the stresses of work get to you, baby. We just need to keep him happy, so he won’t bother us, and trust me when I say that he won’t make any moves on Marin or me.”

“Good. I needed to hear you say that. How are things going with the Church and your contacts?”

“They like the readings I give them, and the members of the Church are careful not to let any bad influences corrupt them from doing their duty.”

“That’s good. I’m tired of all this talk of business. Let’s dance.”

Cesare takes Okazaki’s hand, and the two have fun on the dance floor.

“How are the kids doing?” I ask.

“They’re doing well. Just wish I wasn’t so busy so I could properly care for them, rather than having to bring them to work and have our friends help me take care of them,” Marin says.

“I hope we’re raising them right. We can’t let this business or any kind of business get between our caring for our family.”

“We’re doing the best we can, Vincenzo. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“There’s a lot to worry about, and you should know that better than both of us.”

“The resources and people we have behind us make those worries seem like nothing.”

“I thought that having this casino and all the money and backing of our family would make me feel less worried, but more responsibilities mean more worries.”

“We have mostly everything under control, unless you see a problem, I don’t?”

“There’s dealing with the Vorfahren. Our president said he’d deal with them in Cocodrilo, but he’s not exactly a good Catholic man, despite his being a Knight and trying to present the image of being a Catholic leader who is impartial to all beliefs. He’s a womanizer, and his more left-leaning beliefs could steer him in the wrong direction. I’ve even heard one of his mistresses is a Vorfahren infiltrator.”

“My people are watching him and trying to steer him in the right direction. If he doesn’t do what we want, well… you and Cesare did get your foot in the door of the family business by overturning a corrupt election.”

“Pfft. Cesare would like nothing more than to do that. Don’t give him an excuse until we get to that point. We also have to make sure our Israeli friends continue to be friends, and don’t backstab us in any way.”

“Like Okazaki said, as long as Ronaldo is happy, and the rest of them get their cut of the business. We’ll be good.”

“Yeah. The gambling board gets its cut, and so does the government, the family, our family, the police, the secret service, and so on. It’s no wonder that a casino needs to make so much money to stay afloat.”

“The debts will be paid. With Fontaine on stage today, we should be getting ahead of them. Maybe we’ll even have enough time to go on vacation, just the two of us.”

“So we can make another kid, I’m assuming?”

Marin gives me a sly smile. I smile back and wave at Fontaine, who sings one of our favorite slow-motion songs that he sang at our wedding. I take Marin’s hand and dance with her. We embrace without saying another word about business or the current state of our lives, and simply enjoy this moment together. After the slow song, Cesare waves at Fontaine so he can sing a much faster song, so we can swing around, laugh, and have fun like kids. It’s enough to make me both tired and feel rejuvenated at the same time.

At the end of the day, Cesare, Okazaki, Marin, and I head home with all our children. We’ve gotten a bigger house for our entire family ever since we moved up in the world. The house sits outside the city in the suburbs, with a great view, and fits all three of our families. The house is decorated with expensive gifts from the government, the Church, corporate allies, the family, and other groups who might be called honest criminals like us. Even though I had fun dancing, the best time of day for me is when everyone is talking with one another, enjoying each other’s company, and seeing them smile and laugh. It reminds me what this is all for, and with everything that needs to be set in place, all that’s left for me to do is simply watch and wait for what happens next, hoping and praying to God that it’s to my family’s benefit.

My latest short story is out today for free!

Download at select online retailers - https://books2read.com/b/4720ZR

The newly married Campione brothers and their family are tasked by the government to get rid of the foreign influence and infiltration of the Vorfahren ideology in the country.  In exchange, the next president will treat their family favorably, so now, the men of honor must be defenders of their country from the strength and cunning of two dictatorial empires.

To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 4 – Half-Satisfied

Chapter 4 – Half-Satisfied

“Do you think those bastards will do what he said?” James asks me in the hotel room where all the members of the family are.

“I think he will,” I say.

“What makes you think that?”

“He was impressed with my display of strength and bold insistence.”

“I was impressed you did it as well, but that doesn’t mean that other scumbags will listen to him. We need to make sure the rest of them follow suit, know it was us who did it, and know what will happen to those who try to corrupt the United States. My contacts are telling me the Lupa army itself is involved in this. Where else do you think they get their guns from?”

“What about Adler? You want us to go after them, too?”

“No. The homeland of our ancestors will be the example for the rest of them. We’ll give them a thrashing they’ll never forget.”

“What about what happened with the bosses that I talked to?”

“If they’re smart, they’ll stay out of this. From what my contacts told me, those men in the villa used to be men of honor until they sold out to Lupa’s dictator, this Il Luce. You want to secure our country’s, our family’s, your family’s security, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll follow me and do as I say, unless you think I’m wrong. You’re the strategist like Russell, Angelo, and Vito. Tell me if there’s anything wrong with what I’m suggesting.”

“There isn’t.”

“Let’s get this done then and show those two stuck-up empires what real strength looks like from real Mediterranean men.”

For the next few days, Cesare, Marin, Okazaki, and I help James, our family members, and members of the anti-Vorfahren resistance sabotage the Lupa propaganda production facilities, their army’s supply depots, and end up threatening the leaders here at gunpoint if they choose to retaliate. When we think we’ve done enough damage, we prepare to go back home, only for a group of soldiers to attack the town where we were staying.

“Do we really think that their word meant anything?” I ask.

“You’d think so after everything of theirs that we destroyed, but it definitely was a possibility that they’d go back on their word,” James says.

“We can’t leave yet.”

“Why not? These people can take care of themselves, especially after they armed themselves with weapons we gave them from the army.”

“Because we started this problem for them, we have to solve it. Besides, if we get the army a thrashing they’ll never forget, it’ll disincentivize them in retaliating, right?”

“…You’re right.”

“Let’s get this done then and show these people what real men of honor look like.”

“Here I thought I was the boss and outranked you.”

We help the townspeople hurry to set up defenses and traps for the incoming army. Cesare and I, with the townspeople, hide up in the hills, and as soon as the enemy passes, we trigger the explosives, killing many and scaring the rest. After finishing them off, another wave of soldiers, aided by tanks, advances on us, forcing us back as we fire back at them with machine guns and rocket launchers. Further down the hill, Okazaki and Marin take potshots at advancing soldiers and activate explosives from their side to take out the damaged tanks. Still, more soldiers come at us, forcing us to take up defensive positions in the town.

Just as the soldiers push against our defensive line, men on horses arrive from behind the soldiers, firing at them and yelling at them to surrender. I recognize a few of them as the bosses at the villa I was at a few days ago.

“Surrender or face your maker!” one of the bosses says in Mediterranean, as the fighting dies down. “Those men and women from the United Chimaera States are real men of honor, unlike us, who easily gave in to the demands of our country’s new leader. What happened to the virtuous, rebellious spirit that this island is known for?  In our island’s history, we never let anyone rule over us that we didn’t allow, so why should we so easily give in now? When have numbers and the perceived strength of our enemy gotten us to back down from a fight?”

“Never!” the crowds of townspeople say.

“Then I say, we fight for our independence until our dying breath. If you wish to flee, then flee, but if you wish to fight against us, you’ll only be met with the overwhelming determination and ferocity of the people of Trinacria.”

The crowd loudly cheers, and the soldiers either cheer with them or lay down their arms. Going up to the bosses, they recognize and thank us for reigniting their fighting spirit.

“I know for a fact that you were the one who chose to stay and defend the townspeople rather than easily retreat to your country,” one of the bosses says while pointing at me.

“That’s true. Still, it was boss James who wanted to stay to do more damage, so he should get some of the credit,” I admit.

“Ah, you brownnoser. I ought to smack you in the face for being bolder than me,” James says.

“Whatever the case, we appreciate your support. We’ll be fine here while you head back home. You’ll get no more trouble from the people of Trinacria.”

“I assume there are no hard feelings for the lives we’ve taken?” Marin asks.

“None at all. In fact, you probably should’ve shot us instead for our cowardice. Such are the old ways.”

“But it was mercy that saved us all,” I say.

“All too true,” the boss says as he crosses himself.

We say our goodbyes to the people of the Trinacria, get everything we have on the plane, including the many gifts they gave us, and fly back home. Russell is back from his trip across the country, and we report our success to him and everything that happened.

“Good work, boys,” Russell says.

“Huh? That’s it? Did you not hear what happened? We fought a fricken army and got them to turn on their country,” James says.

“I expected these boys and you to win. What else should I say?” Russell says as he lovingly slaps our faces. “But you’re right. You should get more than my thanks. Cesare and Vincenzo will get charge of their own men and have control of the new casinos that are being built in the city.”

“And for me?”

“For you, James? You can have whatever you want for the state your family controls. What else could you want?”

“Hmm. You’re right. Guess I shouldn’t have asked.”

Cesare, Okazaki, Marin, and I are thankful to Russell for his many gifts, and he’s thankful we never let him down. We then celebrate at Angelo’s restaurant with everyone who helped fight back against the Vorfahren, including the Israeli bosses, to whom I give the old model pistol and some of the gifts the Trinacria people gave us. Donnie Parlarono tells us that the Mediterranean Empire and the Zeitloses Imperium are backing off from our country to focus on those closest to them. As far as we know, our deal with the government is done, but the Vorfahren are still a threat. Nevertheless, the next president will be more favorable to us and should help expunge all corrupting influences in the country.

“I see a bright future ahead for all of us,” Okazaki says.

“You always see that,” Cesare jokes with a cigarette in his mouth.

“Yes, but it’s even clearer and more certain than before.”

“Whatever the case is, I’m sure our strategists have a plan for us.”

“We do,” Marin and I say. We lift our wine glasses and say, “To God, family, and country.”

Cesare and Okazaki toast, and we enjoy our celebration, each other’s company, and the promise of even better times ahead.

 

The End

To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 3 – Taking it Back Home

Chapter 3 – Taking it Back Home

What we’ve done has done a lot of good in getting rid of Vorfahren influence from the city, but not so much for the wider country, and hasn’t gotten rid of the more public supporters of the Mediterranean Empire and Zeitloses Imperium. It’s not illegal to say you believe in and support the Vorfahren ideology, yet their supporters are publicly counter-protesting against the recent Mediterranean, Israeli alliance, and say that the recent purge and deportation of Vorfahren was just the authorities getting rid of bad actors of their ideology and innocent people. The old man and heads of the Israeli mafia come up to us in Angelo’s restaurant and ask if anything is being done in politics to make the Vorfahren ideology one that is classified as hateful and illegal.

He asks, “Are the brothers, Frank and John Ministro, handling things well in the political scene?”

“They’re handling it as well as can be expected. Trust me when I say it’s a harder headache for them to be dealing with it than us with all the resistance they get from the opposite political parties and their own,” Vito says.

“Heh, and they call us slimy criminals. It is what it is, as you Mediterraneans say. I’m just happy that we got to comfortably strike against our enemies.”

“Don’t get too used to it because we have plans on ending this invasion from the Vorfahren.”

Vito waves over a friend of the family who’s sitting by the bar. The well-dressed man in a blue suit, black pants, and black shoes walks over. He has a large fedora on his head like other members of the family, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was one of us. He has brown hair and brown eyes; his face is the spitting image of an average Joe. His name is Donnie Parlarono, and he’s the head of the Secret Intelligence Bureau, or SIB.

“Donnie, please explain to our new friends our plan,” Vito says.

Sitting down, Donnie says, “Since the Vorfahren we have in custody aren’t telling us about who exactly is giving them orders, we’re going to deport them and follow them back home to their nests. From there, we should be able to strike at their leadership, and then give the Vorfahren a serious reason never to step foot in our country again.”

“What about the ones who remain here?” the old Israeli man asks.

“We’ll need people to stay here and handle things, keep them under control, and make them think we aren’t following their friends back home. Can you do that for us?”

“We’re not opposed to having all the fun here. We don’t speak the native language in the Mediterranean Empire’s held territories anyway, and they’ll immediately come after us on sight.”

“Thank you.”

“Good hunting, boys. If you can, bring me back something for me to hang on my wall. I wouldn’t even mind if you gave me their heads or a finger.”

The Israeli bosses laugh and walk out of Angelo’s restaurant.

Turning to me, Donnie says, “I’m surprised they didn’t ask for anything in return for their work.”

“If they don’t ask now, they may do so later. If not, I’m sure they have ways of getting what they want,” I say.

“I have my people keeping an eye on them in that regard,” Marin adds.

“I can foresee that they may be a problem in the future, but they won’t be right now since we did them a favor they won’t forget,” Okazaki says.

“Alrighty then. Who wants to go home to the old country?” Donnie asks.

Cesare and I volunteer along with our wives.

“I’ll stay here with my people to keep who and what’s coming in under control,” Vito says.

“I’m going over. I know some people who can help us, and I still haven’t had my fill of kicking their asses. The job isn’t done yet until it is, and the Vorfahren learn their lesson,” James says.

“Alright then. Gather your bags and people. You all leave tomorrow on a flight that will follow the deportation plane to Lupa.”

For the rest of the day, I pack my bags, make sure everything is in order here with my contacts, and spend time with my family. My parents and grandparents express both concern for my safety and assurance that I’ll come back alive. We pray and eat together one last time before we leave the next day, and everyone who’s going to Lupa boards the plane with everything and everyone they have.

“When’s the last time we visited the old country?” Cesare asks.

“I think when we were teenagers. It’s been a while since we last visited,” I say.

“I remember the cathedrals that are decorated with the bones of martyrs the most. What about you ladies? What are you excited to see?”

“This isn’t a vacation, and we won’t be staying long,” Marin states.

“There still have to be things that you want to see,” Okazaki says. “If we can, I want to visit the floating city and see the many hills of the countryside.”

“Sure. We can see them if we need to go there.”

After an eleven-hour flight, we land on the island of Trinacria. There, we see that Vorfahren propaganda litter the many buildings, and even churches of the area. We don’t have much time to sightsee as we follow the Vorfahren to see where they go. Meanwhile, James and his Sovrano family members go to establish contact with their other family members here to get us help and more information about what’s going on here. To stay within our targets' sightlines, we keep a safe distance and avoid being seen by ducking into alleys and hiding in crowds.

They talk to some people near some cabs, saying in Mediterranean, “We need to talk to the bosses.”

“Do you now?” a cab driver says in the same language. “As far as I know, you were supposed to be in Chimaera, making a difference over there.”

“Things got complicated, and we got kicked out.”

“Alright, fine. They want to talk to you anyway.”

The Vorfahren get into a cab and drive away. As we scramble to get a car of our own, a car pulls up to Cesare and me and offers to drive us. We pick up our wives and resume following the Vorfahren.

“Who are you anyway, a friend of the family?” I ask.

“You could say that,” the cab driver says. “I’m not an official friend, but a friend nonetheless. I’m tired of these Vorfahren saying that they’re faithful to both God and our ancestors' roots, but they shun everyone who doesn’t think like them. I hate to say it, but our empire was better under the control of the previous republic and its leaders.”

“Is there anything that can be done to change Lupa from within?” Cesare asks.

“Not at all, unless you want to be shot, deported, or sent to a re-education prison.”

“Have you thought about moving to another country?” Okazaki asks.

“Nope. This was my ancestors’ home, so it’ll be my home until the day I die. I refuse to move just because I hate the condition it's in right now. I still love it. It can always change, maybe not in my lifetime, but empires don’t last forever.”

“Your dedication is admirable,” Marin says. “We’ll be sure to do as much for you as possible.”

“Don’t worry about me. Worry about everyone else. Oh, and try to fix your accents. You sound like Medigans.”

The cab driver drops us off a little way away from a villa that overlooks a town. As we head toward the villa, the cab driver pulls away to gain some distance so as not to look suspicious and promises to come back if he hears shooting. The four of us sneak into the villa, using our knives and silenced pistols to take out the guards, and hide their bodies to push our way further in. Inside, we follow the Vorfahren we were originally until we see them enter a room. Busting our way in, we hold them and the people we presume to be their bosses at gunpoint.

Speaking in Mediterranean, they ask, “Who are these people?! Guards!”

Okazaki and Marin speak the same language as theirs.

“We got rid of your help. No one is coming to help you,” Okazaki says.

“If you don’t want to end up like them, you’d better stop sending people over to the Chimaera states,” Marin says.

“Can you please stop trying to speak Mediterranean?” one of the bosses says in English. “You dark pigs with makeup are Medigans and don’t know how to speak our language properly.”

Cesare shoots the leg of one of the bosses, and I shoot the arm of one of the other bosses.

“You’d better respect my wife. The way she speaks is the least of your concerns,” Cesare says.

“At least you both know to do the basics of protecting your wives’ honor,” one of the bosses says. “Still, we respect our country and the Vorfahren ideology more than you. It’s the one that’s brought us back to the strength and respect that the Roman Empire once had. We continue the faith and honor of our forefathers, and by going against us, you spit on that faith and tradition.”

“What you think is the true faith and tradition of the Mediterraneans is just your view of it. You bully the Church to accept your behavior and conquer those you think are better under your rule,” I say.

“What would you know? You were born in another country that doesn’t care for heritage or tradition.”

“We didn’t come here to talk philosophy,” Marin says. “We only want you to stop sending people over to influence our country.”

“What happened to freedom of religion and belief in your country? I thought that was a cornerstone to your country’s founding,” a boss says, spitting out the words as if they were disgusting.

“We only accept the beliefs that aren’t directly hostile to anyone, and can peacefully talk to one another to get others and the country to change rather than using violence as its primary tool,” Okazaki says.

“Heh, so you’re not so different from us.”

“Don’t give us that bullshit,” Cesare spits.

“You’re not entirely aware of what’s happening on this side of the world, are you? We’ve been trying to peacefully change people’s hearts, but the corrupt scum in government don’t allow it, forcing our hand to use violence. We simply draw the line for violence in different places.”

I shoot one of the men we were following in the leg. The other one tries to charge at me, only to take a bullet in the face and fall face down in front of me.

“Give me another answer other than your agreement, and none of you will get out of this room alive. This is my line for violence,” I say.

“Heh. Even if you don’t see us as two sides of the same coin, I recognize a true man of honor when I see one. Okay. We won’t be sending our own people over to your country, but don’t complain when our civilians go to your country to evangelize for us.”

“We’ll handle it when that happens.”

“God bless you, boy. Your country would be better under your leadership.”

I turn around and leave the room, ignoring what the boss said. While we are leaving, I take an old model pistol off the wall for the old Israeli boss, head out back to the cab driver, and go back to the hotel, where we’re supposed to meet James and his family members when they’re done on their end.

To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 2 – Unwanted Guests

Chapter 2 – Unwanted Guests

Cesare and I meet with Vito D’Accordo, one of the five primary dons of our family, who lives in a simple house much like Russell and Angelo. Next door to his house is his lucrative olive oil business, deli, and sandwich restaurant that sells meals personally passed down from his family. He welcomes my brother and me into his house and offers us something to eat.

“Thank you, but after what we found out, I don’t think I’ll eat anything until breakfast tomorrow morning,” Cesare says.

“It must be important for you to be here so late in the day. Tell me. What did you find out?” Vito says as we sit in his office that has dimmed and shuttered windows.

“The foreigners are using the Church and homes for the poor as shelters for themselves, to have meetings, and to produce their propaganda,” I explain.

“Of all the places to hide, they choose to hide behind the poor and needy. It should’ve been obvious since manipulating the poor and middle class is how they obtained power in their own countries, but I guess we were being too charitable to think that they wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“I ought to shoot every priest, nun, and charity worker who’s been letting this happen under our noses,” Cesare says.

“Those who feign being virtuous indeed deserve worse fates than obvious villains, but we can’t be too hasty in sending them to Hell. Where are your wives?”

“They’re questioning Bishop Rodrigo, our contact in the Church, to see if he’s aware of what’s going on,” I say.

“Good. For my part, I’ll have my people at the airports and docks redouble their efforts, especially searching the ships and planes that have the refugees from countries under the control of the Mediterranean Empire and Zeitloses Imperium. Security and vetting will be improved overnight. You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there something else you wanted to discuss? I can see it on your face, Vincenzo. You’re a man whose always looking to thoroughly deal with a problem so that it doesn’t become a problem in the future.”

“This is a long shot, but is there a way you can help us find a way to prevent the Vorfahren from coming over to this country? If we don’t, we’ll be perpetually in a cold war against them as they keep sending people loyal to their heinous ideology over here or trying to corrupt our own people.”

“I can pull some strings to see what I can find, though it won’t be a permanent solution. I hear that our deal with the government could provide that.”

“Yeah, and having a president on our side could also start another Great War.”

“If there needs to be another war so soon, then let there be war. It’s only a good and necessary thing when all other options are exhausted, and at this rate, with how the Vorfahren keep pushing their way into other countries, it looks to be the best choice. Knowing the current government, they might just send us overseas to deal with the problem ourselves.”

“That’s not really a bad thing if we have the right resources.”

“You’re right. We could probably even handle it better. Anyways, I appreciate the news and advice, Campione brothers. Do God’s work as always.”

“We will,” my brother and I say.

Cesare and I leave Vito’s house and head back home. There, our parents and wives are already waiting for us with dinner on the table, despite the late hour. We eat together and talk about routine, normal things like politics, upcoming birthdays, neighborhood events, drama with family, and the like. After we say good night and head into our separate rooms, I talk to Marin about what she learned. It turns out that the good bishop is a good bishop and had no idea that the people under him were hiding and helping the Vorfahren and profiting off them.

“Bishop Rodrigo will help us expunge the wolves from the sheep in due time. He’s already in the process of doing so right now and won’t get an ounce of sleep tonight,” Marin says further as she lies down next to me.

“I’m sure Vito will do much of the same. Even though it isn’t his fault so many of our enemies slipped under his nose, he takes personal responsibility for this failure and won’t rest until the problem is rectified,” I say.

“What about our problem?”

“We have a problem? Oh, the kids. As I said, we’ll have kids once this problem with the Vorfahren is under control.”

“Okazaki and Cesare aren’t letting that stop them. They already had a baby boy, and I hear that Okazaki is trying to get pregnant again.”

“Poor Cesare.”

“You should be more concerned about poor you. What about poor me?”

I look at Marin, consider it, and give her what she’s asking for. The next morning, Okazaki and Cesare ask what took us so long, and I ask, “What happened to privacy between a husband and wife?”

“Oh, we didn’t see much. We shut the door after making sure what we heard was actually happening. Forgive us,” Okazaki says with a sly smile.

“How many are you planning on having?” Cesare asks.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” I say. Marin’s face gives off a mad in the morning sort of vibe, so I assume I said the wrong thing. “Two, three, or four, maybe. I don’t know.”

Looking back at Marin, she seems satisfied with my answer. Thank God. Of course, my parents are the most glad that Marin and I decided to finally start having kids, and they hit me upside the head for waiting months to do so. After breakfast, the four of us go out to do our daily jobs. My brother and I go to the car mechanic shop, and our wives go to work at the office of the archdiocese. We need a legitimate job to make ends meet, support our family, and support the family after all.

Our coworkers at the mechanic’s shop and the neighbors we pass by ask us if we’re handling the Vorfahren threat, and we say that we are, while leaving out the fact that the problem isn’t wholly contained, so as not to disappoint them. While at work, Cesare isn’t as chatty as he usually is with his coworkers. His mind is probably on the Vorfahren just as much as my mind is. We don’t have to wait long to hear back from our contacts, as one of Vito’s men comes to us after work to tell us that he, the chief of police, Umberto Destro, Bishop Rodrigo, and James Sovrano, are meeting with us in the basement of our parish church. We immediately head to the basement to see James already in a pious rage.

“Who the hell do these people think they are? The new Holy Roman Empire, or something?” James asks.

“Yes, they actually do,” Bishop Rodrigo says matter-of-factly.

“It was a rhetorical question, bishop. I ought to kick their asses all the way back to the world myself for bringing their shit here. Excuse my language.”

“Let’s get this meeting started so you won’t have to wait long to kick their asses,” Marin says as we sit at the round meeting table.

We are served bread and charcuterie boards of various kinds of lunchmeat on them from Vito’s deli and wine from James Sovrano’s vineyards across the river in his Garden State.

“I want it to be on our private record that I had no clue what the poor houses were doing. All of my most loyal contacts were caught unaware as well,” Bishop Rodrigo says.

“Yes, yes, bishop, we know. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that your charities got nice paychecks from the Vatican and the government for all the people you were caring for,” James points out.

“James. Please,” Umberto says. “Let’s get down to business.”

“Fine. You want business? I got business for the Vorfahren. My people and I are ready to raid every poor house in this city and my state, and give them all the business end of our guns, hot lead all for the low cost of their lives.”

“As much as it would save my side of things paperwork and the trouble of processing them as prisoners, the country and theirs won’t deal well with the deaths of so many people, even if we classify them as subversives.”

“What do you suggest that we do then, chief?”

“Smoke them out like we are right now. Just tell me where you all are going, and we’ll coordinate our forces to take them all down at once.”

“Bishop?”

“I have to agree with Chief Umberto. It would be the most moral solution. Let them prove themselves to be criminals so that they can be arrested and deported.”

“Vito?”

“I can’t disagree with the bishop in most cases, and this is one of them.”

“Come on, there has to be some kind of compromise between us.”

“I’m more on James’ side,” Cesare says.

“I am as well,” Okazaki says. “We can deal with the rubble in the shadows, and the cops can come to clean up the mess and chalk it up to being two groups of criminals fighting one another.”

“There we go! I knew I could count on you two.”

“Then the cops will have to crack down on the criminals, even if they are helping the government,” I say.

“With the way things are now, the Vorfahren only know that groups of vigilantes and concerned citizens are fighting against them with aid from the cops. We need them to keep thinking that way so that they think that any retaliatory strikes mean war between their empires and our country,” Marin adds. “If they think that a singular group of criminals is after them, then they won’t hesitate to fight back.”

“What if they had to fight more than one gang?” I ask.

“What are you going to suggest?” Umberto asks.

“There’s the Israeli mafia. The Vorfahren, especially those from Adler, have an issue with the Israelis since they control many of the banks in Adler and were the reason many were in inescapable debt. Since both groups already hate each other, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the Israelis to help us.”

“You want those people helping us? I don’t hate them as the Vorfahren do, but I don’t exactly trust those Christ killers either,” Cesare says.

“We don’t need to trust them with anything other than what we already know they want to do. All we need to give them is the assurance that the cops will look the other way while they clean up the trash. If this gets public, all it’ll look like is the Israelis defending themselves against a foreign threat. We may even gain traction in our cause against the same threat as well.”

“Okay,” Umberto says as he digs in his pocket and gives me his badge. “Okay, Vincenzo. Take my badge if they don’t believe you. That’s a really good idea. The Israelis have been doing everything to get at the Vorfahren and trying to force authorities to do more to get them out of the country, so this should satisfy them and get them off our backs. You can’t promise them that they’ll get anything out of this other than the chance to hit back at the people who hate them, alright?”

“Yes, sir. Bishop? Any disagreements?”

“Self-defense isn’t a sin, so I don’t,” Bishop Rodrigo says.

“Then it’s settled,” James says.

“Wait for Vincenzo and Cesare to get back to us about the Israeli mafia’s cooperation first before we say it’s settled,” Vito says. “Sit and enjoy yourselves. I have my own business with you, I want to discuss.”

Marin and Okazaki stay in the parish basement with the big bosses while Cesare and I go out to arrange a meeting with the Israeli mafia. It doesn’t take long to find someone who’s connected to them in the Israeli part of the city, since they come to us first and bring us to the basement of an office building. Inside the basement, people are already here in expensive suits with guns, maps, and cash on various tables, as if this were a military command center.

“Take a seat, Campione brothers,” the oldest man says. “I have a feeling that we’re both about to bring up a subject we’re both interested in, but I want to hear you speak about it.”

“Sir, would you like to help us get rid of a common foe? You’ll have the backing of the government so that you don’t need to worry too much about getting away with it,” I say.

“So, it is true that the government is backing your family in getting rid of the Vorfahren from the city. We saw it happen, but didn’t know if you were getting away with it because you had those certain cops on your side or had the wider government on your side. Now, why would they need our help? Why should we give it? The government is being infiltrated by the Vorfahren, and they haven’t been doing a good job of protecting my people from them here or on the other side of the world.”

“Like I said. It’s to fight a common enemy. If you don’t believe me, take a look at this.”

I calmly take Umberto’s badge out so none of the people in the room think I’m pulling out a gun, and put the badge on the table.

“I believe you. What I have a hard time believing is why we should work together. People say we worship the same God, but we don’t. The Israeli Church doesn’t worship the man our ancestors helped crucify that you Catholics of the Patiens Ecclesia worship. Also, the Vatican and many in your Church are in the pocket of or sympathetic to the Vorfahren cause, so as far as I know, we may have a common enemy, but no common reason to work together because we don’t know if you’ll stab us in the back afterward.”

Cesare looks a little concerned at me, but I keep my composure.

“We don’t need to worship the same God to work together. That’s what being part of the United Chimaera State is about. We work for the common good of us all. As for the Vatican and the Church, every Catholic is instructed to do as instructed, but not to do as they do. I’m sure you’ve heard of the sudden death of the new pope, right? The same one who was said to be working with the Vorfahren?”

The old man’s eyes narrow.

“You people wouldn’t dare.”

“Why wouldn’t we? We still have friends and family in our home country of Lupa. Why can’t it be possible?” The old man smiles, and the rest of the men in the room either laugh or start whispering to one another. “Remember the arrests the police made at the Catholic poor home? Ask any of your contacts in law enforcement, and they’ll tell you we helped get the Vorfahren arrested.”

“Ah, you didn’t need to convince me further past your first point. You’re wise for your age. I’m sure you’re going to go to big places when you get older. You have our help.”

My brother and I thank the Israeli mafia and lead them back to our parish basement to get our plans together. While both leaders are coordinating which targets they’re picking and what time they’ll be acting, and everyone else is eating, Cesare pulls me aside where no one will hear us.

“Is what you said about the pope true? Were you told something I wasn’t?” Cesare asks.

“I don’t know. It’s a rumor I heard. It could be true, it could also not be,” I say.

Cesare laughs and says, “Are you still thinking about going into politics?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, I think you have a good chance at getting in if you keep talking like that to people.”

After the plans are finalized, the cops, our family, and the Israeli mafia strike the Vorfahren hideouts in the night. Most of the purging that’s done is quiet, and what doesn’t happen quietly is spoken on the news as the Israeli people fighting against their bullies.

One Israeli interviewed on the news says on TV, “They want to come here to take over our country and kill us and everyone else whom they hate! Why shouldn’t we fight back?”

The same thing is said by the Mediterranean people in our neighborhood, saying that just because they are the same race as one of the major empires doesn’t mean that they share the same way of thinking. Together, the Mediterranean people and Israelis let their hatred of the Vorfahren ideology be known and protest against it the same day and the next, just as we plan. The bosses of our family and the Israeli mafia watch it, celebrating together, sharing each other’s food, and talking with one another as if we’re all estranged family members making up for lost time. It’s nice to see, but it’s not the end. Not even close. This city may be secure, but others aren’t, and there’s much work that’s left to be done. I tell Cesare and Okazaki this when they tell me that I look worried.

I smile and say, “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

“We both do,” Marin adds, smiling at me, knowing what the plan is.