Present Day
Arthur
Forgiveness. In the end, forgiveness is what they all ask for. Whether on their backs or knees, damnation is feared by all. But forgiveness is not something you give to just anyone. It must be earned, much like loyalty.
When my father died I was twenty-five years old or so but I realized that loyalty was the one thing he’d never had. People feared him, yes, and they did what he told them to do, but all of that meant nothing without true loyalty. Loyalty was the reason I slept well at night. Loyalty was the reason I feared nothing, and loyalty was the foundation of the Cavalieri Della Morte.
The Calthorpe dynasty was almost brought to its knees by trust. My father’s trust in Stephen Castello. My trust in love. The night I killed Daniel and Guin, I lost more than my wife and my best friend because in the building next door, Stephen put a bullet in my father’s heart.
The Tabella Della Morte was as much my redemption as it was for the twelve men who walked beside me. We understood what it meant to conquer, to take without asking, and to own. We asked no questions and could slip in to slit your throat while you slept warm in your bed if you double-crossed us.
I was the leader of twelve of the most ruthless and feared men in New Orleans.
The Calthorpes were as old as the roots in this city, a fact the people never forgot, but the Cavalieri, they were a force to be reckoned with. My father had never seen the need for such an organization but his reproaches and demands that I disestablish the Tabella fell on deaf ears. What he hadn’t realized was that the Cavalieri was the future of our family. I was alive because of these men, not the men he’d had working for him. Nobody could get to me through my men. Nobody so much as dared, yet Luther Calthorpe had died while a man stood posted outside his bedroom door.
Consider the Cavalieri protectors of the realm as well as enablers. They made things happen and got things done. But no matter how many transactions, business or otherwise, we ensured happened, there was one thing I was still after which had evaded me for years. However, that was about to change.
This empire was built on blood, and there was still so much more to be spilled. I wanted it to run down corridors like a red carpet. I wanted to bathe in the blood of my enemies while sipping champagne.
I usually stayed away from the front line, remaining in the background. Some people didn’t even know I existed, even less had seen my face. Those who did know me were either dead or on my list.
Still, they called me Diavolo ‘the devil’ and a monster. The widow and orphan maker. The thief in the night. I’d lost count of the things they referred to me as. But I was ready to step out of the shadows for a while because Stephen Castello had resurfaced, and he was about to receive his death sentence.
The email was untraceable, but the message was clear. He had a delivery for me at an unlisted mailbox in the city post office. Lance did the pickup. After our demolition guys ensured the mailbox didn’t contain an explosive, the contents were retrieved and brought to me.
I sat staring at the black velvet box for a long time before opening it, and when I did, I clenched my fist. It was a lock of golden hair, the exact shade of Guin’s, the precise shade of Giuliana’s. He’d likely desecrated my wife’s resting place twenty five years ago to get it. He would have done it after the funeral. I assumed it was symbolic of Castellos plan and next move. He’d never learned the art of subtlety which would work in my favor.
“Stephen Castello murdered my father,” I announced, causing Lance to look up at me, his eyes hard, “and he has managed to evade me for over twenty-five years. Despite our reach, he’s remained under our radar.” We sat in my office. My home served as my place of work and also Headquarters for the Cavalieri.
“How is that even possible, with the technology we have? We could have -.”
I knew what he was saying, and it was true, but Castello was often disparate.
“He was my father’s greatest ally. There was a time when they’d fought side by side, so he is powerful. Never underestimate that.” I looked him straight in the eye, so he understood.
“I had not been surprised when Castello disappeared after Luther died. I’d expected him to stay, try to destroy me, do something, but he didn’t. The Calthorpes were the ruling family, and for generations, the Castellos were our right hand. Some families have remained true to the Castellos, people who might now be collaborating with Castello to bring me down.” I took another draw of my cigar.
“What we do know is that Castello has had help from someone in order to remain hidden, and Diego Martel was being held in my basement after we tracked the mailbox to him. He swore he had no idea who the sender was, but I had a feeling he knew a lot more than he is letting on.”
“And that parcel?”
“Castello is going to go after Giuliana,” I said simply. “The parcel had a lock of my dead wife’s hair, and you don’t need to read between the lines to know what he is after,” Lance’s jaw ticked.
“As if that is possible.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I’ll slit the throat of anyone who attempts to get near my wife.”
“Exactly, which is why you’re taking a short leave of absence to keep an eye on Giuliana.”
He nodded. “Now about those plans with the Russo brothers.”
“What about them?” I lifted a cigar to my mouth, holding a flame in front of it. I inhaled lightly, just enough to get it going. Lance’s eyes never left mine. I drew in the smoke, held it for a couple of seconds, then let it out of my mouth, the smoke drifting between us as I rested my hand on the arm of my chair.
“You can’t be reckless, Arthur. Let us do the dirty work. The reason the Cavalieri are here is so you don’t risk your life.” Lance stated, his jaw set.
I rested an ankle on my knee and drew in another puff of smoke as I watched him pace the room, running his hands through his hair. He reminded me of myself at that age. Calculated, a man who sticks to a plan. A bit of a renegade. But also easily angered and irritated, especially when dealing with stubborn men like me.
“Sit, Lance.” I fixed him with a glare. He heeded, albeit reluctantly. “Let's just focus on one thing at a time. For now, I’m going to talk to that termite downstairs. He’s not leaving here alive, obviously.”
“I can’t talk you out of being directly involved in all this?” He closed his eyes for a second then released a breath.
