hand and when I push him to the ground. What follows next is a series of punches between the two of us. Two brothers fighting to the death.
I give my all, blow for fucking blow, and as I do, I unravel any love I had for him and replace it with my last images of my father and every sentimental memory that comes to my mind. If not for Andreas, Pa would still be here. Not dead. He would have lived a long life, just like Grandfather.
Andreas’ hands are as dirty as Riccardo’s. Riccardo pulled the trigger, but Andreas might just as well have given him the gun.
I roar as I come down hard on him with my fist until my knuckles are raw and start to bleed.
It’s his strength that gives him some leverage. He’s always been strong, so when he flips me over and I land on my back, I’m not surprised. But I’m strong too. My father taught me to be strong. My mother taught me to be stronger.
That’s why I’m ready for him when he manages to retrieve his gun. He’s gearing up to end me, but that window his movement gives me is an opening to attack. I grab him and flip him back onto the ground. Grab and twist his hand holding the gun, so when he fires the bullet to kill me, he shoots himself instead of me.
The impact is so intense it shakes me. He doesn’t make a sound. It’s not what I expected. It’s as if the pain is too great for him to scream or shout. His eyes go wide, and a whimper leave his lips.
He’s a traitor to our family. A traitor to me. Yet as I stare at him, I see my brother. I see my big brother. The guy who always looked out for me and had my back.
Andreas D’Agostino.
The light leaves his eyes, and he’s goes too.
Dead.
In this one day, I’ve watched two people I love die in my arms.
Warm fingers rest on my shoulder, and I look up to see Emelia.
The sound of footsteps approaches. Tristan and Dominic come into view. They stop in their tracks when they take in the scene of me and Andreas on the ground.
As I look at them, all I know is that everything will be different now.
Our lives will have changed forever.
In just this one day.
The next month flew by within a flicker of an eye and was the hardest I’ve lived in a long time. Three funerals. Pa, Andreas, and Priscilla.
Andreas was the hardest because I felt I shouldn’t be there. We decided between us that we wouldn’t make people aware of his treachery. We kept it between us. Those who knew, knew.
We held a private ceremony for him with just the three of us. Me, Tristan, and Dominic.
Pa had close to a state funeral. People from far and wide came to honor him.
Pa’s funeral was hard in another way. A way I can’t describe to anyone. As his body was placed in the earth, I realized how much he meant to me. I looked up to him as a boy and as a man. He was my everything.
Pricilla’s was another tough one because of the place she’ll always have in my heart. She was a woman who was there for me when I needed a mother.
Hers was the last, closing off last week.
This week is the first clear week I’ve had. The first time I’ve had to stop and think about the things that still don’t add up.
There’s a lot, a lot about what happened weeks ago that makes no sense. The Syndicate is no more. I’m the last boss left. Everything automatically came to me. I have their lawyers meeting with me left, right, and center to sign this and that or making contact to discuss what I want to do next.
I’ve put everything on hold for the moment because there’s one thing I need to do first, and I plan to do it later today when Emelia gets back from the stores.
I’ve been in the sitting room gazing out to the sea. Just thinking.
The door opens, and in walks Candace, the bag on her back she carried weeks ago.
She’s been around for the funerals, but I assumed she’s be heading out again. I don’t know if this is goodbye again or hello.