“Goddamn Feds,” Carlo mutters. “Good thing I parked down the block.” He pulls a gun that was strapped to his ankle.
"Are you crazy?!" I screech. I was always told to sit quietly when the FBI comes around.
He ignores me, wiping down the weapon before sticking it inside the piano. I open my mouth to protest the abuse of my beloved instrument, but Carlo presses his finger to my lips, making them tingle and my cheeks flush."Silenzio,"he rasps before turning to Beppe. “On your feet,Padrino.”
The men at the door are shouting about warrants, urging Beppe to come out with his hands raised. “Why would they be here for Beppe?” I ask.
“Because that goddamn rat turned on him. I told Father we should’ve acted sooner!”
Who turned on who? Who’s a rat?I want to ask.
“I’m too old for running, Carlo,” Beppe says. “You go.”
“Fuck that. I’m not leaving you, old man.”
“They’ll arrest you, too.”
“They have nothing to hold me with for long if they do.”
Mom dashes back into the room, her face pale. “Francesca…”
Things are happening so fast. I’m confused and frightened. They’re beating down our door now and panic floods me. “I should’ve killed that son of a bitch last week,” Carlo says angrily, trying to lift Beppe.
“I’m a fat old man, not a feather. If they want me, they can have me. They can’t make me talk. I will honor my omertà to the bitter end, but do as your godfather says one last time, Carlo. Convince your father to send Beatrice and Francesca to Silvio in Las Vegas for me, I beg you,” Beppe pleads.
Carlo glances at me again with utter hatred burning in his eyes. Why does he hate me? What have I done? “Pack only what you must,” he tells my mother after releasing Beppe.
“But what about Brian?”
“He’s abandoned you, and you know it. From this day on, you’ll be a pariah in our world, forced to live off the charity of other men, Beatrice. It's fortunate your brother is who he is,” Carlo tells her, harshly.
Stricken, Mom hangs her head while I have so many questions. Da abandoned us? Why would Mom be a pariah? Carlo is making no sense.
“What about Ronan?” my mother asks, tears filling her eyes. “Please, Carlo. He’s only seventeen.”
“Seventeen but a Made Man. After what your husband has done, you know what his fate will likely be. Focus on your daughter,” he clips.
Mom cries out in anguish, and I'm realizing how bad things must be and growing frantic over my brother’s safety.
“There’s a silver Aston Martin parked around the corner.” Carlo passes her the keys. “Stay silent and the Feds won’t detain you long. Take your daughter and go to The Langham Hotel. Give them my name. My men will escort you to the airport. I’ll make sure you have a flight to Vegas. That is the most I can do for you, and I advise you never to return here.”
“Never return?” I repeat but neither of them reply to me.
“There’s war in the Trio,” Mom says, worriedly. “My brother and your father would rather shoot than speak to one another right now.”
“That is true, but we don’t wage war against women… even the wife and daughter of a filthy fucking rat.”
3
Francesca
(Francesca, age 16)
“… even the wife and daughter of a filthy fucking rat.”
With or without Carlo spelling it out that day, it didn’t take me long to learn my new station after Da went into the Witness Protection Program and Mom and I moved to Reno to live with Uncle Enzo.
We left Boston with little more than the clothes on our backs. The house and our possessions were labeled as asset forfeiture by the Justice Department. The servants, including Maeve, all scattered to the wind in search of other work. I miss Maeve, but I know none of them would want to be associated with their tainted previous employers.
