“I’m safe, Luca; there’s no evidence to suggest otherwise; maybe you should worry more about yourself and less about me; after all, you’re the one in the eye of the hurricane.”
“I told you, I’m completely capable of protecting myself!”
“How did you manage to get both of them into my college class?” I ask, hearing his rough laugh in the background.
“It wasn’t that complicated; we have our own methods.”
“Easier than making one of them my fake boyfriend?” I tease him.
“Much easier! Chiara, I have to go; I have abusiness to attend to. Don’t forget you can call me anytime if you feel you’re in danger, and don’t leave the gun out of reach.”
“I won’t… Good night, Luca!” I hear him take a deep breath on the other end of the line.
“Good night, Chiara!”
I look at the night lights of London and sigh before leaving the room to find the four men chilling on the sofa in the living room, watching soccer.
“Would you like to order some dinner?” I ask, sitting down on the sofa in the middle of my two brothers, and they shrug their shoulders, making me look at them in a clear question mark as to what we should have for dinner.
“I would go for some sushi!” says Vincenzo, making Lorenzo shrug in agreement. I look at the two security guards at the other end of the sofa, and they seem oblivious to our conversation.
“Is sushi okayfor you too?” They both look at me with a puzzled and surprised expression, and I raise my eyebrow as a clear gesture of questioning.
“Yes, sushiis great!” says Paolo quietly, making Francesco agree with him.
“What do you say we order some wine andsake? Aftertoday, I feel like we all need a little alcohol!” My brothers immediately nod.
I go to the kitchen counter, where the menus of different restaurants are kept. I pick up the menu of my favoritesushirestaurant and glance at the room. I see that the television is now on a news channel; I approach it slowly and see that it isreporting a shooting in the suburbs of Rome; the anchor says that the incident must be linked to this afternoon’s attack; a shiver runs through my body, and I decide to double the amount of alcohol I was going to order.
Two hours later, I find myself completely drunk, with my head in Lorenzo’s lap, laughing hysterically at something Francesco has said; he and Paolo are the only ones who are even remotely sober, perhaps because of their work.
“Are you telling me that your little sister knocked you out before?” I ask, laughing loudly and making everyone in the room laugh with me.
“She’s been boxing since she learned how to walk, and I was drunk that day!”
“That’s no excuse for a Camorra soldier,” says Paolo while laughing.
“I’m telling you, the girl can fight!” says bitterly, making me laugh even more.
“What’s the most dangerous or worst thing you’ve done for the Camorra?” I ask, stopping their laugh and making them stare at me. I wave my hand for them to speak.
“For me, I think it was a mission; I entered enemy territory to eliminate someone. There were more Russian soldiers there than we had planned, and it was a real bloodbath; I was shot twice, once in the abdomen and once in the arm, but what matters is that we managed to accomplish the mission,” Francesco reveals without really thinking about it.
“What do you mean what matters is completing the mission? You were injured!” I get up from my brother’s lap and sit down on the sofa, facing him.
“My family has been part of the Camorra since my great-grandfather. They saved his life, andhe swore loyalty to his capo, just as my grandfather and father did after him. When I was fourteen, I had no doubt that I would be as loyal a soldier as theywere; I was born in their blood, Chiara; this is the life I know and chose; I will die in the same blood for the Camorra.” He says, a little disconcerted by his confession. I take a big sip of my wine, then I look at Paolo and gesture to him that it’s his turn.
“My father is the Camorra’s chief executor, and they work like royalty. The ranks pass from father to son. When I was fifteen, my father decided it was time to prepare me for this position; even though I had been working for the Camorra for a year, I had never tortured anyone. That day, my father called me into the torture warehouse and told me that the man was a traitor; it was the first time I tortured someone. I threw up when I finished, but from that day on, I never stopped, and just like my father, I became an executioner.”
“If you’re an executioner, why have you been assigned to my security?” I ask, really confused, and drink more wine, which is clearly going to make me even more confused.
“I’m part of your security for being an executioner. Luca wanted someone capable of torturing in the worst way, someone who would be able to get information out of if you were in danger.” He says it calmly as if he wasn’t talking about causing pain and agony to a human being.
“And Luca…” Paolo looks at me with one eyebrow arched in confusion. “I mean… does he torture too?” Paolo and Francesco let out a loud laugh, almost in unison.
“Luca is probably the best torturer in the Camorra,” Francesco says with a big grin on his face.
“Has he killed many people?” I mutter quietly, taking another sip.
