Prologue
Bastiano
La Cosa Nostra is your family. You protect it as fiercely as you protect your sister and your brother. The family comes first always. Your blood comes second.
The mantra that has been pounded into my head since birth. The life I wanted away from, but could never seem to escape. Now, it is impossible. I take a drink of bourbon while I wait. I look around the parlor at my father’s home, where I have conducted business as usually for the last 8 years. As interim head of the family, my job was to run the family as if he were here. Thankfully, I have always had him to rely on. With coded messages and cryptic conversations, he would offer me advice and confidence.
Today that will change.
“Bash, they are here.” Lorenzo says from the door.
“Send them in.”
I watch as each man comes in greets me then take their seats.
“I have called you all here today to deliver news from Attica. It seems my father has passed on.”
I listen as the gasps ring out around the room.
Niccolo, my father’s underboss, speaks up. “Prior to his death, he named his eldest son, Bastiano Catalini as his successor as head to the Catalini family. As per Catalini law, this meeting is for the Capos to determine if they will support the former heads decision or challenge Bastiano for the right.”
I meet each man’s eye as they take a moment to consider. While my nerves are off the charts inside, the calm demeanor I present provides confidence for most. I see the acceptance in their eyes.
“Let’s start with a vote. All in favor of Bastiano Catalini as the new head raise your hand.”
Eighteen of the twenty-four men raise their hands. Niccolo notes them then turns to each of the last six.
“Who would like to start.”
“I am just concerned with what type of leader you will be. Tommaso lead this organization with an iron fist. He fought alongside us in the trenches as he made his way up the ranks. You have been essentially given this position.” Bernardo of the Las Vegas crew speaks up first.
I take a few deep breaths to quench the anger that filled me at his words. I am used to them. Everyone thinks I am only here because of my father. They aren’t wrong. I never wanted this. I cannot show weakness though. The only way out of this life is prison or a body bag, neither of which I am particularly fond of.
After collecting my thoughts, I speak calmly, yet firm.
“Thank you, Bernardo. I appreciate you stepping forward. With that being said, I was not handed this position. You assume that because I was the son of Tommaso that my life was easy and I did not have to fight. I am here to correct your assumptions. As Tommaso’s son, I was held at a higher expectation than even you capos. My father demanded I learn from the base up. I had to earn my stripes like everyone else to become a made man. Then, I stepped up and took control while my father was sent away on charges brought on by a member of this family defecting and snitching on him. Do you know what happened to that snitch?”
I pause as I let the coldness in my eyes meet each man’s.
“I hunted him down like the prey he was. I found where he was and put a bullet in both FBI agents’ heads then I took him to an empty warehouse where I then pulled each one of his finger nails and toe nails off. I cut off each finger toe individually and over time. After three days of slicing and dicing him, he finally bled out and died. He did not have an easy death. This is what anyone who is disloyal to our family has to look forward to. I will not be questioned or thought of as weak. Yes, my father appointed me to this position, but only because he felt I would be best at this job. La Cosa Nostra comes first, even before your blood. That was the mantra he would repeat to me every night as a child before I went to bed. That was the mantra he lived by and that I also live by. Join behind me brothers and I will lead us into this new venture with confidence.”
I watch all but one of the remaining votes nod with confidence.
“Anyone else want to speak up or challenge?”
Five of the six shake their heads no, but the sixth doesn’t move. He stares at me and I stare back. I can see something flicker behind his eyes. Jealously?
“Fillipo? Would you like to challenge?” I call out.
The rest of the men turn to look at him. I see a tick in the corner of his eye.
“Of course not. I just have one last question.”
“Proceed.” Is my only response.
“You say you have run this family. I won’t disagree that the orders have come from you, but do you deny that you have not had counsel from your father during this time?”
I see the light in his eye. He thinks he has backed me into a corner. Fillipo has always resented my father and in turn me. He was supposed to take control after my father’s predecessor. Unfortunately, he had an untimely death that resulted in my father challenging him. Needless to say, my father won and he did not. The only reason he still has his head is because he pleaded for mercy and my father decided to grant it in order to keep the peace.
