Page 59 of King of Omen

‘With whom?’

Lorenzo’s eyes locked on me. ‘A family who have it for us.’

‘Mafia?’

Lorenzo huffed, confirming my guess.

‘Who exactly?’ I asked. ‘Now that I’m in your world, I need to know.’

LORENZO

I gave her a long look, assessing, cutting to her motive.

I concluded that she meant well with her question and had proven trustworthy.

‘Whatever I share stays with you within this close circle. These facts are only ever shared with wives, siblings or a consigliere, of which Mauri is mine.’

Mia took a breath yet still held my gaze.

‘However, because you’ve also witnessed me kill, and since you’re on my side, I am allowed to break the code with you. As long as you never breathe a word of it to anyone. Bella, I need you to think about this before I continue.’

Her eyes sliced to the overcast view past the swimming pool and fence line, to the surging sea beyond, her eyes following the roll of crashing surf.

After a moment or two, Mauri and I exchanged worried glances as she swung her beautiful head back to me.

‘I can deal. So please share.’

I lifted a brow and inclined my head. ‘Here it is. Omertà originated as a natural outcome of early outlaw societies. At the start of the 19th century, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was in decline. In the resulting disorder, groups of bandits started operating as private armies for those willing to pay. This marked the emergence of the Mafia.’

Her eyes widened, but she nodded, and I went on.

‘After the unification of Italy in the 1860s, the ‘men of honour’ in the south adopted a strict code: never talk to the authorities about criminal activities, even involving enemies, under any circumstances. The punishment for violating this rule was death.’

She inhaled, yet undaunted, she met my gaze.

‘Our family evolved into the guardians of Omertà throughout most of Southern Italy, meaning we were the honour protectors, the law amongst the unlawful. We trained and honed into assassins and trusted soldiers for various mob bosses. We upheld the families’ paramilitary structures, influencing every level of our society. We oversaw the blood oaths of silence which bound each initiated ‘made man’, the Omertà.’

I sucked my teeth before continuing. ‘We became the ‘Obsidian Omertà Keepers. Security experts, militia advisers and vault keepers. However, over time, my father kicked off the process of cutting us free from the chains that tied us to the Mafia. To be clear, though, he didn’t want us to break Omertà. He only desired we walk away from it.’

‘How?’ Mia asked.

‘Foreseeing the end, he began investing our clan money into legit business,’ Lorenzo shared. ‘He pulled us away from the corridors of Mafia power. As insurance, he did share all the secrets he grasped with my brothers and me and bound us to silence. But he also sent us to study and work as far away from Naples as possible. I went to London, and my siblings Alessio and Valerio to Montreal and New York. He dispatched my youngest brother, Vitto, to university in Sydney and set up a front for the family. So when the right time came, we’d move lock stock and barrel to a different home. However, he died before his vision became a reality.’

Mia’s face softened. ‘I’m so sorry he passed.’

I dipped my head in acknowledgement. ‘He and my mother died in a car bomb together, we believe, because they were questioning Carlo Abrazzio’s brutality as well as shifting their focus to legit business, which scared some of our Alliance members. After we buried them, my brothers and I were free to discontinue the code of total honour, as my father’s pact was more binding for him than our initiation. We acknowledged existing agreements while slowly shifting our business to legitimate endeavours. Still, a few of the families are unconvinced we’ll remain mute and are gunning for us, reluctant to believe in our vow of absolute Omertà. So unwilling to provide further services to the other Mafia syndicates, we’re consolidating and moving out of Italy.’

‘Here?’

‘Yes. The issue is our problems are following us to our new home. The Abrazzios are gunning for us, thinking that we might spill the beans on their secrets. We believe they sent the assassins. They’re ruthless, and this is not their first attempt, so we must be careful.’

Without hesitation, Mia’s hand reached across the table, and she took mine, resting her second hand over it.

The unexpected warmth and compassion of her touch jolted me.

I closed my eyes, savouring it, even as I sensed Mauri rise and limp from the kitchen.

I squeezed her hand back, and we stayed entwined for a long moment.

---