The Rain Falls Over Italy, Too

[Levi DAmico]

This post is back-dated to January 06 2016

Once the spectators were seated, the Judge ordered for the rest of the room to sit as well. It was from there that the Judge would announce why they were here again and go through the motions. Levi had never been to court before, but then he didn’t exactly give a **** what was happening, what the room looked like, or how many people were here. All he had to do was watch Gino’s reaction to see what he needed to know and since he was busy glaring at the ******** anyway, that wouldn’t be difficult. Now was not the time for talking, but Gino could not so much as glance at the glowering face of his nephew without being curious for what had prompted it – he certainly couldn’t sit there in a state of unknown for hours either. Of course the older Italian had a few ideas as to why Levi was sitting there as if someone had called a halt to the production of his favourite brand of cigarettes, but, curiosity was a beast of its own choosing. Gino just had to know for certain which provocation in particular had been perhaps a little too aggressive for its own good. Not knowing was far more risky than the older gentleman preferred, as it was important to know which strategies were effective – as well as how they were effective – including which strategies were not. When Gino decided to address Levi, he kept his tone low as though they were speaking in a confessional – not something either man had ever had to do in their lifetime...

“What is with the sour face, giovanotto? I know you’re not particularly happy with this, but you should be. You will benefit from it down the line.”

“For once, it’s not him who’s pissing me off,” Levi growled back.

“Oh. So I suppose you’re angry with me then?”

“Don’t act ******* shocked after that **** you’ve pulled.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to narrow it down for me,” Gino said with half a smile.

“I’ve been counting and that’s twice in one year you’ve tried to kill me, Valachi.”

“Is it?” Gino stated calmly, arching a brow. “Well, I must be terrible at my job if you’re still here. You are in many ways like a cockroach, but I doubt you’re that hard to kill.”

Levi smirked, but didn’t say anything. His eyes moved to the Judge, who, was still speaking. Gino passed him a glance after a few silent moments, his brow lowering steadily.

“I was expecting you to agree to Cavallone’s terms. I did not think you would be that bothered by it at all. I suspected that you were smart enough to realise an easy opportunity when you saw it. You said it yourself, Levi, that you were not serious about Miss Lee—”

“Shut your ******* mouth,” Levi growled, and although it wasn’t a roar, it was far louder than intended.

The room stopped and looked at him. Levi could see those cursing umber eyes glaring back at him from the defence. Even the Judge had paused his delivery to point daggers at them. A silent warning for now, but if they were caught talking in court again, the least they could expect was to be told to leave. Neither man could really afford to be held in contempt of court, not when one of them would smoulder like a damp campfire upon the dawn and the other would notice. That is, if either one of them would even stay in the jail cell in the first place; they both had their own means and ways of escaping prison after all. While Levi and Gino had sat at the back for many reasons, most of all, Levi wanted his chance to talk to Gino without the man squirming away. Gino could talk himself out of any situation – the man was gifted beyond that of a mortal for sure – but Levi had his doubts that Gino would get away with it this time. Ever since the fiasco with Cavallone, Gino had been avoiding the Italian. Even the Wraith, Leveret Rey, had come across difficulty locating a single hair of the man’s presence – it was like Gino knew how to shadow his tracks just as well as his undead companion. Now that they were stuck in a room together, it seemed fitting to get what information Levi could before the man went back into hiding.

“This is why I tell you it’s important not to lie to me,” Gino offered quietly once the room had returned to normal.

“And I told you my personal business ain’t any of yours.”

“Don’t be so stupid,” Gino grumbled, shifting in his seat. “We have had this discussion. I suggest you only use the words you’ll need for now.”

“Like go **** yourself?” Levi sneered. “I always need to tell ya that.”

Gino sighed and shook his head. Levi leered off into the distance for quite a while, cursing the wooden panelling, the great seal of jurisdiction and the flags of the appropriate federal and state governments that dressed the judge’s bench like they were testaments to his reign. Levi might have glanced across once to see where Gino’s chestnut eyes had landed, predictably on the back of the prosecution’s head. It was like he was cursing the man, inspiring wicked circumstances that would discredit his reputation and therefore hi case against William. Levi suspected that Gino was desperate enough to resort to some kind of voodoo, despite not being much of a superstitious man. It was unusual for an Italian, for sure. With over 80% of the country identifying as Christian, and only 12% identifying with no religion whatsoever, it’s a weird case of statistics that a man of Gino’s age and descent would discount the possibility of there being more to life than what you see and hear. Hell, Levi had never been one of those God-fearing bibliophiles, but he was starting to think that there was a possibility now. Seeing was believing and the **** that he saw lately needed some kind of justification that only a higher power could explain.

There was silence between them for another five minutes and Levi almost began to tune-in to what the judge was actually saying. Both men expected the other to say something, but it was Levi who was the first to crack. He didn’t care what was going on in the courtroom because to him it was all a show. Gino had undoubtedly had his men working behind the scenes pushing the right kind of paper around, whether that was the kind that incriminated some folk into folding on their duties, or the kind of paper that made inconvenient problems like this disappear under Persian rugs. America really was anything but a land of the free.

“You should have been more specific,” Levi growled again. “You tell me not to lie to you, but that’s all you’ve ever done to me.”

“It goes against my instincts to tell you everything. I won’t apologise for that.”

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything, but the important things are a ******* necessity, Valachi. Especially if they might get me killed. That’s why I think you did it on purpose.”

“I’ve told you a number of times, Levi. If I wanted you to disappear. I could be far less subtle. No one would miss you and no one would ask questions. So stop your bellyaching.”

“**** you, old man.”

Gino saw no reason to reply when Levi’s rage was getting the better of him and it would only cause the man to erupt once again. With the Judge having finished his introductory speech about the hearing up until now – a hearing that had gone on for many months to prove one way or another that William D’Amico should be set free – it certainly did not seem like the time to poke the bear. This was the finale they were all waiting for, but especially Gino. He would not want to miss the Judge’s deliberation or hearing the outcome. Many months, if not years of work, had led up to this day and as the time drew nearer, the older Italian had less patience to spare. Levi might have suspected that Gino Valachi’s intention was to get him killed – setting him up to fail against Eddie Cavallone – but little could be further from the case. Gino knew that even if Levi was too stubborn to admit that he was in love with Lorelai at the time, that the engagement to Cavallone’s daughter would be tossed aside with all the elegance of a blind buck on a frozen pond. Gino also knew that the apology would never be offered either – Levi was incapable of going against his pride when it came to inflammatory Mafiosi like Franco Foraldo.

What Gino expected was for Levi to fight for what he wanted because life was a lesson that needed to be learned through experience, not by reading about it or hearing stories. It might have been a lesson learned the hard way, but it would be a lesson that stuck. Gino was old-fashioned that way, he did not believe in what good it would do the world for the youth to get by on the coat-tails of their parents. A man should earn his salt, not be granted it, and while Levi worked damn hard to make sure he earned everything he got, Gino still saw it necessary to test him. Because the world was a shitty place to live in and if you wanted to survive its challenges and tribulations, to stand up and have deserved pride in your accomplishments, then you needed to be strong. Gino pushed hard on Levi because he needed him to be stronger than the rest. Although he knew the consequences of his actions, that Levi might be too tempestuous to control and the only thing that would be certain was the man’s hatred for his elder, Gino continued his teachings. Gino saw what William had become with little tutelage and if he could make Levi into something better, well, it would only serve him well.

Levi hadn’t been wrong about Gino’s ambitions and his work behind the curtains; he’d just been a little short-sighted. Gino knew that things would work out splendidly with William at the helm of the Patriarca, and with Levi branching out into Canada with his own shadowy deeds, a healthy relationship between nephew and uncle would ensure that Gino could use that to his advantage as well. The consigliere’s skill came in his ability to pre-empt events, decisions and individuals by fully understanding his targets. Gino had been watching Levi grow since the age of six and had even had a hand in the man’s upbringing. He was the first person to put a gun in the upstart’s hand – legitimately – and teach him how to kill; not merely to pull the trigger and end one’s life, or have the power in the decision making, but to understand that power was attributed to value and the worth of something was subjective. Threatening to kill somebody could be sufficient to get you what you wanted, and sometimes a quiet threat was loud enough to put a target on your back. Death could be the answer in some cases, or it could be the worst mistake you’ll ever make. Gino had taught Levi the value of his own life too, he had given him a choice: be a soldier or be a general. While Levi decided that he preferred to give orders rather than receive them, even a general had to take orders for the good of his country.

Patriotism came in many forms. There were the men and women on the front lines, trading their blood for the safety of loved ones and strangers alike, and there were those who traded favours for favours, protected the peace with words and smiles and trust. There were also a few individuals who could walk both paths and it was those adaptable, multi-skilled persons who could make decisions for themselves. It was a taste of the freedom they were fighting for, but it was fleeting – a fantasy – like understanding all the mysteries and passions of the ocean by tasting a single bead of caviar. Even a man like Gino – with all his years of experience, skill, power and influence – was no more of a free man than his veritable nephew, and neither one of them would know what it meant to truly be free. Cosa Nostra was not a war someone could retire from, could quit or turn their back on. Even when a man was incarcerated, he was still connected to some degree. You couldn’t leave until you were dead and if you got out before that then you were probably never a part of it to begin with. Gino knew that despite how restrictive their world felt, how it could be the noose around your neck as much as it was the safety blanket at times, it was a world that Levi would never turn his back on even if he wanted to. Levi would miss the thrills, the challenges, the drops and falls that left one clinging to the seam of their nerves. Their world could be dangerous and devastating, but it could also be satisfying – gratifying even. Cosa Nostra was just as likely to give you everything you could dream of as it was to take it all away.

Gino could see that Levi was dangling somewhere in the centre of these ups and downs, where leaps of faith could land one in a pool of lava or in a bed of daises depending upon the precarious roll of a dice. There was so much uncertainty in Levi’s life, so many choices that had to be made on trust, which was the hardest thing in the world anyone could make him do. Even before Levi was immortal, he would have sooner thrown himself into a shower of bullets than be asked to make a decision that would decide his fate based on the relationships he had with other people. The Italian trusted no one and his small circle of confidants were evidence of that. Levi neither trusted the man who raised him, the man who was his father, the man who had stood beside him and flawlessly protected his investments for five years, nor the woman who swore she loved him. Gino understood Levi’s feelings for Lorelai, how clouded they were with paranoia and doubt yet still brightened by foolish hope and a child-like desire for love and acceptance. As a matter of fact, Gino pitied his nephew for these feelings. It was heart-wrenching to watch how she would offer him hope and then snatch it away from him for her own selfish need to put her guilt to rest, to the point where Gino had regretted informing Levi about Michelle Antonelli’s misguided deeds. Not merely because the trade had cost Gino a valued soldier and a good man, but because it had set into motion the circumstances that had caused Levi to doubt him further.

Their relationship was strained, fractured, but it was not broken and the tethers which were worn and tangled could be straightened out with a few choice words and favours. Gino was hard on Levi even now that he needed the man to be on-side because showing any form of weakness before a predator was remarkably foolish. Levi’s favour could not be won with shows of softness and remorse, but with strength and resilience. Consistency would reward him in the end as a man raised by a clan of dragons respected nothing short of perfection and failed to respond positively to inadequacy. The Leviathan was smart enough to read between the lines and so Gino left the man to decipher the hidden meaning in his words, or rather, the words that weren’t there as the fruits of years’ worth of his labour played out in the court room.

[Levi DAmico]

This post is back-dated to January 06 2016

In a criminal case, the defendant may appeal their conviction, and also the sentence imposed to the U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. The Court of Appeals’ decision is most often the final word in a case. Both parties, meaning the ones who filed the appeal in the first place – the appellant – and the ones who defend the original decision – the appellee – have the right to appeal to the United States Supreme Court if they still disagree on the verdict reached. The Supreme Court, unlike the Court of Appeals, is not required to take all cases. The party requesting the input of the U.S. Supreme Court files a Petition for Writ of Certiorari. If the U.S. Supreme Court grants the cert, it has agreed to hear the case. Certiorari is usually granted less than 100 times per year, but it’s surprising how easily people can be encouraged to think in the right way – no matter who they are. If the Supreme Court does agree to hear the case, the process of preparing briefs and participating in oral arguments is very similar to that of the Court of Appeals. One main difference is that the entire Supreme Court, all nine Justices, participate in every decision unless they have recused themselves due to an ethical conflict with the case. All Justices who hear the case will discuss it and vote on the decision and it takes something of a unanimous decision to accept the appeal. Fortunately for William D’Amico – as well as those involved in freeing him – there was no need to escalate the matter.

Under the Court of Appeals, cases are decided by panels of three Judges – an easier number to juggle. The Court of Appeals does not receive additional evidence or hear witnesses. Instead, the Judges make their decision based on the written record of the case in the trial court, the briefs submitted by the parties, and possibly, by oral arguments presented by each party. Although some cases are decided on the basis of written briefs alone, many cases are selected for an oral argument before the court. Oral arguments in the Court of Appeals are presented by lawyers from both sides. Each side is given a short time – usually around 15 minutes – to present their arguments and the panel Judges often ask questions of the lawyers during this time. However, the decision is not announced at the time of oral argument. Instead, the three Judges meet and vote on the outcome. One of the three Judges will then write the formal opinion of the court, which may be published in law books later on down the line. Writing the opinion can sometimes take a few weeks or several months. This last session in the court room on January 6th was merely a formality since this particular appeal was somewhat unusual. It wasn’t exactly typical for a man to serve almost half his prison sentence before filing an appeal, for example.

When the Judge delivered the painfully predictable verdict to the court room, it was plain to see that only a handful of individuals were actually happy about it. Still, it was over now. Nicoletti’s coffin lid had slid into place, even if he wasn’t aware of it, and while the man wasn’t yet dead either, the nails were being gathered. Gino Valachi had a few loose ends to tie now that the appeal was granted, favours to return and evidence to destroy, but that would undoubtedly have to wait. With the court dismissed and the spectators filing out from front to back, there was little doubt in Gino’s mind that he would be accosted by his nephew on their way out. Levi was still angry, his temper never having really cooled during the hour and a half that they were seated, and when he heard the verdict, Gino was certain he saw those umber eyes flash a brilliant red. There might have even been smoke billowing out of his nostrils, and Gino could do little more than smirk to himself. The phrase don’t poke the bear came to the Sicilian’s mind, naturally, but it was rather negated by the fact that he was well equipped at dealing with bears, and dragons. Besides, this particular beast was caged and no amount of snarling would change that.

Chestnut eyes carefully regarded the younger Italian when their row was due to depart, but Levi looked through Gino, focused on leaving. After patiently buttoning his navy Herringbone suit, Gino lead the row of people out into the hallway, feeling his shadow pressed upon by the raging footsteps of his nephew. When he paused, just beyond the threshold of the foyer that connected the court rooms to the entrance of the building, he expected Levi to pause with him. They could discuss their matters quietly enough, civilly enough, inside the dome-like room if it was so urgent. However, Levi didn’t pause. The umber eyed Italian passed by Gino like a shooting star – smouldering quietly in the atmosphere. Gino arched a brow, this quizzical look on his face suggesting that for once in a long while he’d been caught by surprise. Though, perhaps he shouldn’t have been all that bewildered by the display of hostility. Levi was a stubborn man and for all his wits and intelligence, he could be blinded by the walls of hatred he built around himself. The fortress. The prison. It was a thin line of difference. Gino was, indeed, not so surprised that when he exited the court house, he found the Leviathan breathing smoke and brimstone once again having stopped around the corner from those large double doors.

“Those will kill you, you know,” Gino said, his eyes low and his tone just as discreet.

Levi only scoffed at him.

“Well. If the stress doesn’t kill you first, I suppose.”

As Levi didn’t appear to be in a talking mood and Gino was hardly the type to bother with emotional concerns, let alone watch a man smoke and brood, he turned his attention back to the building. The John Adams Courthouse was a superb example of architecture as it happened. It was designed by Boston city architect George A. Clough and was completed in 1894 at a cost of approximately $3.8 million. Clough's reliance on classical elements such as arches, columns, pediments, and cornices typified this period of American architecture, but standing in amongst those modern high rises that looked increasing more like glass sculptures than actual buildings, the courthouse appeared out-dated. Still, it was conveniently located on Pemberton Square between the Massachusetts State House and Government Center, so the dinosaur had its uses. The John Adams Courthouse also accommodates the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court, the Massachusetts Appeals Court, and the Social Law Library. Since the courthouse is generally open for visitors on normal business days, from 9:00 to 5:00, their nocturnal guest could join them. Though, everything about Levi’s temperament suggested that being here was the last place in the world he wanted to be. Gino also couldn’t help but notice that the man came alone – no security, no consiglieri, no loved ones. So it rather begged the question, to Gino, as to why exactly Levi had shown up at all.

“You were perfectly welcome to bring guests, Levi.”

Once again there was silence. Levi didn’t even make the effort to look at Gin; those umber eyes stared off into the distance, meeting their counterpart darkness as they watched the shaded belly of the horizon over city lights.

“I thought you might at least be accompanied by—”

“So what’s next?”

That brow quirked again – not out of shock, but curiosity. It soon sat back over those glinting, knowing eyes and a similarly smug smile appeared on Gino’s face, even if it was just for a moment. It was, perhaps, rather sinister to be so proud of such devilry. It was obvious that Gino had struck a nerve with his scalpel-sharp words because Levi was wincing, deflecting, or ignoring him completely. Gino knew the other man well enough to predict his movements and assign reason to them, so the fact that Levi would rather talk business than discuss pleasantries suggested so very much, and opened so many doors and windows for the Sicilian to peek through. Maybe he was too curious for his own good, maybe he was too power-hungry to simply let it go. After all, knowledge is power, and if knew what sort of quarrels were tugging at the other man, he could manipulate him better. So, it was Gino’s turn to deflect.

“I was wondering that myself. You don’t seem to be in any hurry to leave and yet you’re hardly in the mood to discuss business. Is something the matter, giovanotto?” His voice held an apologetic tone to it this time, but remained firm.

And finally, Gino thought he was getting what he wanted. Those umber eyes turned on him, flashing again like the violent fires of a dragon’s soul could be glimpsed through them. The cherry of his cigarette looked utterly bland in comparison and Levi might have thought so too when he disposed of the half-rendered cigarette, stomping that light out underfoot. No muscle on Gino’s face moved and he waited patiently for an answer, for the answer, because even though Levi would never say anything directly, Gino could still determine enough to discover the truth written in those lies. He just needed to push a little harder. Just a little.

“Perhaps we can discuss it over a drink.”

Levi laughed and he shook his head. “You’ve gotta be ******* kidding me.”

When those scarred hands disappeared into his trouser pockets and his shoulders hunched forward slightly, Gino was aware that he probably hadn’t hit the right button this time. While Levi’s blood pressure was clearly on the rise, the Italian rarely raised his voice. He didn’t need to. He wouldn’t bother. No one ever listened to a raving lunatic, and a quiet voice flickering with danger was far more effective. As it happened, Gino had taught him that lesson too.

“Gino, you’re like… the last person on the planet I would talk to over ******* drinks. You’re also like the last person I would talk to about anything.”

“That seems rather unfair—”

“Unfair? Are you insane? You tried to have me killed, Gino. Twice.”

“And I have told you that is not the case, Levi.”

“Uh huh.”

“What reasons do I have to dispose of you, exactly?”

“**** knows. I don’t care why. I just care that you did.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

Gino sighed. “You’re going to have to find a new reason to hate me, giovanotto. This one is flimsy at best. Circumstantial. Not even a court would hear you.”

“Not your court, no.”

This time, Gino was the one to laugh – a quiet, tittering sound that came from his nostrils.

“So what now? You got the old man out. What’s next on the agenda?”

“You have little to be concerned about. I have a few tasks that require my attention here and a few meetings to arrange, but none of these things involve you. As I said, now that William is freed, you’ll have more freedom than you’ll know what to do with.”

“Forgive me if I don’t jump up and down with ******* glee, but I tend to believe about two percent of what you’re telling me at all times.”

“Really. You surprise me. Two percent, you say? How generous.”

“How many times have you gotta be told to go and **** yourself, Gino. Seriously.”

“Oh, I’m sure a dozen or so more times should suffice.”

Something like amusement trickled into Levi’s expressions, extinguishing some of that wrath, causing the Sicilian to smile. He had the same kind of placid grin on his face that he would wear with any stranger, and yet a hint of admiration was there in his chestnut eyes. Despite the ruthlessness of their natures, the rampant criminal quality of their lives, the Mafia were a family unit. They bickered and they scrapped amongst one another, but when it mattered, they could be there for one another, they could build each other up. Besides, sometimes the best way to watch somebody fall was from a greater height – it made for a much greater impact on the sidewalk.

“Well, regardless of your plans tonight,” Gino murmured. “I do think a celebratory drink is in order. Go enjoy yourself. I will be in touch when I need you.”

Levi had never appreciated how Gino would talk down to him like a dog he summoned for special occasions. The hatred mounting in those umber eyes was apparent, but the expression on Gino’s face revealed not even a scrap of smugness. Instead it was polite and friendly, his indifference holding as if it had been sewn to his face like a leather mask. They had said that the devil could disguise himself as an angel of light, and thus it made sense that his minions could do the same. Masquerading as the lamb came effortlessly to the Sicilian now, but it had taken years of practice to master and several decades to form a believable mask. Did it surprise him then that Levi confessed to having very little faith in him? No. Of course it didn’t. Nothing had changed. The dog was loyal even if he was chewing on his leash, because the dog knew his place, he understood the need for shelter and nourishment provided by his master. Maybe, if the dog behaved well, he would be treated to a larger pen in which to ****. Favours could be arranged to reward good deeds and for the time, Gino needed his nephew to feel comfortable in his presumed territory. There was still much to be done as Levi trotted back to Harper Rock; Carlos Nicoletti had a few more days of sunlight to witness before it all went dark, and in the eclipse would come a new sun. Gino hoped for clear skies. Levi hoped for rain.

[Levi DAmico]

This post is back-dated to February 12 2016

There were a few weeks of silence that followed the court date. Levi heard whispers about what was going on in Boston, but he mostly kept his ears plugged to the sound because he had other **** to deal with. More troubling ****, as it happened, because it was nearly Valentine’s Day – La Festa Degli Innamorati – and Lorelai was being… uncharacteristically distant with him. For a while, Levi had put her aloofness down to the fact that this particular event in the calendar reminded her of last year’s fiasco, when she’d been taken captive by Michelle Antonelli and his band of morons. Levi had been more than a little savage when he took those fuckers out to claim her safety, and while the day had ended somewhat pleasantly, and had even been the catalyst for their budding relationship, Levi couldn’t dismiss the possibility that Lorelai was still clinging to how horrible she thought he was. Maybe their recent engagement had really woken her up to the reality of the situation, that having said yes to his proposal, she was going to become Mrs Monster. The thought of losing another part of herself to the darkness must have been so petrifying that she’d locked herself away in her own head because Levi couldn’t get two words out of her no matter what he did. Nevertheless, he did have plans for Valentine’s Day and they were pretty ******* inspired even if he did say so himself.

The Italian was rarely modest, but even his overblown sense of arrogance shouldn’t detract from the fact that he had a damn good idea. With any luck, Lorelai would be too busy to think about anything horrible while she was being led on an exploration about the city with carefully designed love letters, romantic favours, memoirs of their time together, and various other expressions of his complete obsession adoration. Hopefully, by the time she’d found the last clue, which would lead her back to their love nest, Levi would have swept her off her feet with one last gift: the presentation of an eternity ring along with a promise never to leave her through their immortal life and give her every happiness in the world. The Italian had never lacked passion or ambition, but he had never involved himself with romantic love before. He had been suspicious of it, some might even have accused him of being terrified of it, because there was nothing more horrifying than giving your heart to someone when you knew that they would stomp on it. It was easier not to care because there were enough people in the world who hated his guts and wanted him dead. He didn’t care about any of them because he wouldn’t let them in to hurt him. But he let Lorelai in. Against all his instincts he opened the door to the fortress he’d spent years building around himself. Levi let her in, told her all his secrets and left himself vulnerable because he wanted to trust someone. Just once. For once in his ******* life he hoped he could.

So perhaps this date was also a means for Levi to escape those negative thoughts that were circling him like sharks. This was a massive gamble for him: to love Lorelai. It was a leap of faith into the shark tank even though he knew his heart was bleeding through his chest. If he failed her now, if she failed him, then maybe they were never meant to be. He had always doubted her. Levi doubted everyone until they proved themselves worthy, and sometimes that process took years. She had started to convince him she wasn’t like everyone else, in the beginning. The women he knew, the people Levi knew, they were all predators and they were all looking to sate that hunger to keep power and to steal it from others. Lorelai was nothing like that, she cared about everyone else over herself. She was his perfect girl-next-door. Every guy may have his specific prototype, but in general, she’s the girl that is always admired from afar, the girl you were afraid to approach because any erotic projection toward her would ruin her image as a decent, pure and almost virginal, womanly ideal. She’s untrodden ground; unspoiled by other men and so sweet-natured it almost frightens you to think of her in explicit sexual situations. But it was more than just the corruption of sex, it was the corruption of evil. Levi was evil. He was a monster, and although he tried so hard to be anything but what he was – for her sake – he couldn’t help feeling like he was also being untrue to himself, and untrue to her.

There really was a valid question to be asked about whether you should expect people to love you for who you are or if you should try to be a better person that deserved that person’s love in the first place. If they loved you, truly and wholly, then it shouldn’t matter a damn that you have your flaws. And they say love should be easy and when you know, you know, but Levi didn’t understand what the hell that meant either. How could he? There was conflicting advice at the other end of the table which said love was hard and it needed work. The Italian thought he understood both sides of the argument, but when he thought about the end game, about where the conclusion was drawn, he was confused and torn in two. On the one hand, it wasn’t in his nature to be soft and sweet and totally selfless, yet he could be that way for her. If Levi tried, if he wanted it enough, he could change for her. And it brought him so much happiness to see that smile on her face; there was nothing that compared to that feeling he would get in his cold, dead heart when she was truly happy with something he’d done especially for her. Yet, all the while his head was killing him and his stomach was in knots. He felt sick. He felt wrong. He didn’t believe she loved who he really was because he was trying not to be him. So it was all a lie. It was all an illusion. Everything about their relationship was right and wrong and Levi didn’t know what to do with it.

While Levi thought he had enough drama on his plate for one lifetime, he was going to be surprised to find that he’d been staring at only a small fraction of it. It had started with a phone call – the unveiling of the iceberg of doom that was towering over him. The phone call was innocuous enough – short and polite, nothing out of the ordinary for Gino Valachi – but Levi suspected that there was something bigger going on behind the velvet curtains. Wasn’t there always? Well, that was natural-borne inquisitiveness laced with 31-years-matured paranoia talking, not that it had dissolved any of the truth. Gino Valachi was just that kind of a man – the puppet master you only witnessed when he was selling tickets to his show or shoving his hand up your ***. Either way, Gino did it with a smile. Because that’s how it was with Gino; you were his participants, his spectators, or you were nothing at all. Gino adored the dramatization, the misdirection, the illusions, and most of all he loved the power of being able to manipulate everyone and everything. It wasn’t so much of a necessity to him if his actions were publicly glorified because he knew the reality of it. After all, knowing something that nobody else was aware of was the greatest part of the satisfaction for Gino.

Levi had the misfortune of being just another puppet in the theatre. He had no life of his own, no free will, and he’d be damned if he knew what strings Gino were pulling to make him dance before the end of the ******* waltz. You could have your suspicions, but that didn’t mean they were right or even in the ballpark of being right. It was hard to tell with Gino because it wasn’t like he was ever obvious, it wasn’t like he’d confirm the suspicions. And Levi was missing the valuable piece of the puzzle when it came to his assumptions: motive. Levi kept accusing Gino of trying to kill him and maybe the old ******** had a point when he asked Levi to explain the why of it. Sure, he’d come up short on that one, but it wasn’t as though people hadn’t tried to take him out before for equally ambiguous reasons. Levi wasn’t necessarily certain why they’d done it, but he’d suspected that it was because he was such a friendly guy. Was Gino that petty? Probably. You can’t live a thousand years and not make a few choices based on pure frustration. Levi was sure he was very good at pissing people off; if they was an Olympics devoted to provoking people, he would be a multi-gold medallist not simply for his years of impeccable service, but because he could cross disciplines so exceptionally well.

As it happened, Gino didn’t have his usual trademark tone of voice equipped when they’d talked. Ordinarily when the Sicilian spoke, he could command a room with a few choice words and not nearly because of who he was and what he was capable of, but because he could give the impression that he was all that and then some. His tone was a flagrant and exotic mixture of composure, grandeur and violence, yet he spoke lowly and so confidently that he could talk the glow right off of the moon. Plus, it probably didn’t hurt that the American branch responded well to an authentic Sicilian dialect, as well as that pompous London twang that covered his English speaking voice like dew frosts the sleeping buds. When he’d called Levi, however, something about the man seemed… weakened. Their conversation had been short and apt, not merely because words couldn’t be spoken over the phone, but because Gino was trying to disguise something obvious and knew that he would have a better chance if he didn’t spend too much time parading it in front of Levi. That kind of logic made Levi suspicious, because if Gino was worried about something – and the man appeared to have zero fears – then this must have been one hell of a risk and reward scenario. If the reward was so high that it was worth being exposed before a cunning predator, then Levi couldn’t pretend he wasn’t interested in finding out just what exactly was going on.

There was still blood in the water floating around him, the sharks were drawing nearer, their sleek bodies cutting through the ripples of the tide, but Levi didn’t feel so alone anymore. Amidst the lightless, smoking slurry that sat on the water like an oil spill, was a sudden flood of crimson. It tangled in the darkness like an old memory, warming an impossible ocean of ice. Far from feeling safe at the presence, however, Levi noticed how the sharks moved in closer, quicker. He could feel the pressure from the flick of each fin and how their rough skins would make the water churn. It was then that he realised the truth of it – that Gino’s pain and Gino’s troubles would become his own. Regardless of their personal feelings toward one another, this was a matter of survival and their options were slim: they could work together or be torn apart side by side.

[Levi DAmico]

This post is back-dated to February 15 2016

“Well… ain’t this a surprise.”

The man before him didn’t even twitch, his indifference held as if it had been sewn to his face like a leather mask. They stood against one another in the dim light, both with their hands in their pockets, the vapour of dust and iron so thick in the air of the warehouse that gusts from open doors made it roll past them like thunder clouds.

“Couldn’t have picked a better spot for a meeting, huh.”

Slowly, the mask began to strip away. Gino smiled; his grin a genuine yet chastened show of amusement. Chestnut eyes kindled discretely and he bowed his head. Still, he didn’t utter a word.

“So what’s so urgent?”

“I wouldn’t call it urgent,” Gino spoke, finally, but something in his voice was... off.

“So what would you call it?”

“Necessary.”

Gino’s tone was a flagrant and exotic mixture of composure, grandeur and violence. Levi was used to how that charcoal voice was intimately lethal, like a knife hidden under a wife’s pillow, but he wasn’t entirely accustomed to having that blade to his throat.

“You and I need to talk, D’Amico. The area is secure. I have men posted at the perimeter to ensure that.”

“Brillante.”

“Yes, it is. They are far enough and close enough, so now is the time when you and I put our cards on the table. We can be frank with one another for just this night.”

If Gino’s words were supposed to lure Levi into a sense of comfort then, for once, the man had failed tremendously. The Sicilian had summoned him to a warehouse on the outskirts of Coastside. The place was familiar to Levi actually; having used these same docks to bring in unmarked shipments and dump unwanted cargo. Nobody came here for legitimate purposes, and Levi could hazard a guess about what sat at the bottom of those black waters, and what was sleeping in the silt. Umber eyes regarded Gino blandly and his shoulders gave a slight roll – a shift in demeanour, but not even a twitch of ground given.

“Perhaps I should start then,” Gino offered, his voice lightening as if excelled by his smugness. “As you might suspect, I have been keeping a watch on you for a couple of years now. You must be aware that your actions and movements have been questionable. Nicoletti, for his time, even suspected the truth of the matter when you failed to return to Boston right away. When he heard you were alive, but unwilling to come home or communicate, he sent me ahead of Lucchesi and Veltroni.” A pause, chestnut eyes regarded his veritable nephew carefully. “Nicoletti is a simple man… Or should I say, he was a simple man. He suspected you were simply dealing behind his back and honestly, if I’d wanted you dead, I could have kept my nose out of it. Nicoletti didn’t require proof because appropriate evidence can always be found after the matter has been settled. You understand that. Instead, I told him that it would appear rather questionable to The Commission if he chose to get rid of you after what had happened to your father. I convinced him that I would deal with you personally. I didn’t realise it at the time, of course, but it was a turning point for me. My decision to give you time stole time from me, stole lives from me, Levi. So far, you have proven to be more of a curse than a gift, but you would know a thing or two about that fine balance, wouldn’t you.”

While Gino had been making his little speech, as if he were some mastermind detective who’d spent his entire career uncovering clues, collecting truths and putting all the pieces of some vast conspiracy together at last, Levi had been glaring at him. This whole show was making him feel nauseous, but it was probably more accurate to say that it was a kind of hungry-sick feeling that was possessing him. There’s a point, after all, when the body gets so starved that the stomach shrinks and the throat dries. There’s a taste of bile, there’s a burning ache right alongside that, and even though you haven’t eaten, you’re convinced you’re going to hurl so hard your balls will feel it. While Levi never felt the need to feed anymore, didn’t feel his body weaken or shrivel like a drying husk day after day, the hunger tortured him relentlessly. Murder, violence, blood and death flashed behind his eyelids with each and every blink; scenes of illustrious beauty and temptation, of a future that could be if only he would reach for it. He imagined Gino in this same scenario: his throat ripped apart, baring shredded tendons and an exposed trachea under a shower of crimson. The look on those perfectly measured features was almost as glorious as the scent in the air – of horror and disbelief and dying, weighted as heavy as iron. Levi didn’t even need to drink it, didn’t need a single drop on his tongue because he could get by on the feel of the blood on his fangs and beneath his nails. It was uncivilised, unlawful, bestial, savage and raw, but worst of all, it was a craving he couldn’t escape and one that made him question why he even bothered to try.

Levi had been so determined to suppress the monster within, but it was becoming harder. Every day and every night left him plagued by the creature he’d tried to push away from. He’d bound it in fine Italian suits and practiced smiles, kept those umber eyes vacant for the most part so that his draconic soul couldn’t shine through. It had been easier to suppress when Levi was happy, because despite being a Vampiro, he could watch the sun rise whenever Lorelai did. When he sought those turquoise eyes, Levi had always seen the Mediterranean Sea smiling back at him. She had made him feel secure just by being there, but now… now she wasn’t. There was darkness where sunlight once travelled, a space in the centre of his world that was rotting. He’d spent months digging out the darkness in his heart, binding it, sealing it away, and turning it over like fresh soil so something pleasant might grow. With one cruel act, she’d taken away that one reason he had to nurture benevolence and imprison hate. It was a complete mystery to him why he’d let her get away with it, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. Maybe it was because he was still holding onto that monstrosity, storing it and biding his time to unleash it at a moment that was more profitable. Destroying Lorelai would only endanger him and the act itself wouldn’t even make him smile – how could it? The roots of his love for her needled his soul even now. Perhaps starving the beast would make it deadlier in a fight though, and there was no doubt in the Vampiro’s mind that Gino was going to be a worthy adversary.

“I know what you are, D’Amico.”

The accusation was left to hang between them – soiled laundry dripping dry in a cold, dusty space. Umber eyes let through a little glimmer of that fiery rage, fixed to those haughty chestnut orbs with laser precision. Gino didn’t budge – not a single wrinkle even gave a tremble as he stared back at Levi like he had a dragon of his own. This fact did little other than make Levi smirk. Gino knew what he was, did he? He didn’t know ****. Levi didn’t even need to hide his surprise because he wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t even alarmed, forget about fear.

“They call it Vampirism, don’t they?” Gino stated, lifting a brow.

“Who?”

Gino’s face whispered a smile. “Those who think themselves wise enough to put a label on it, I’d imagine. It derives from an Eastern European folk lore, and was popularized in English by the late 19th century after the creation of the gothic novel. However, there have been scattered accounts of night-walking, blood-gorged, plague-spreading, undead corpses from as far back as the 10th century. In the figurative sense of the word, it applies to a ‘person who preys on others’. In 1741, the term was applied to a species of South American blood-sucking bat. I am sure you can follow the path from there: how this label has come to describe… creatures like you.”

“You say that like I’m the only one in this building who, how did you say it? Preys on others. Gino, you’ve been Vampiro all your damn life.”

“Perhaps, but I think you and I are of different calibres now. We have always been predators, and although I’ve taught you much, I think you’re running in your own circles these nights. Circles that I wouldn’t want to cross.”

“So don’t.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

Levi arched a brow and watched as Gino withdrew his hands from his pockets and reached into his jacket. Two deft fingers picked out a photograph, holding the image face-down as he approached Levi with heavy footsteps. He was waiting for the final moments to reveal his hand, but despite Gino’s claims not to feel any urgency, he certainly wasn’t taking his time. The Sicilian turned the piece of card over and Levi’s heart leapt into his throat when he recognised the brunette. Smeared in grease and engine oil, the woman was stood in what looked like part garage part living space. She was in the process of wiping her brow too and staring off into space, suggesting that this photograph hadn’t exactly been taken with her permission. Levi considered the significance of this piece of bait: why Gino would think that Isabeau’s existence had anything to do with their current topic of discussion. Of course, he’d run into the girl recently and identified her as one of his kind now, but why that mattered to Gino was beyond Levi’s understanding. Why this brunette and no one else? There were a whole host of associated Vampires that Gino could have chosen from…

“You recognise her,” Gino said, his eyes shifted only momentarily from the picture.

Levi didn’t need to say a damn word, not when the confusion was written so plainly on his face. Instead, he decided to be rather blunt, spitting out a comment that should have been behind barbed wire and land mines. “She’s a Vampire.”

Without a beat, Gino replied, “she’s my daughter.”

Levi thought one of those land mines had gone off.

“So, as you can imagine,” Gino said, returning the photograph to the neat little compartment beside his heart, and stepping back. “I can’t simply let this matter go.”

“Since when did you have a daughter?” Levi growled.

“Since 1988. We don’t exactly have the time to discuss my life story, Levi. All you need to know is that our livelihood doesn’t afford the luxury of traditional family values. Despite what the Cosa Nostra bleat about the importance of blood, we are not destined to have that warm embrace at the end of a hard day’s work,” Gino paused, and even if it was for a fraction of a second on an intermittent syllable, Levi heard the man’s voice hitching as he spoke. “When you love someone, you want their safety and happiness above all. And when you are the one who can take that away, even without meaning to, you realise that they are better off without you.”

There were minute signals, but Levi could tell that this was a weakness for the other man. Love had made another powerful man its *****, made him doubt, made him feel weak. Levi almost considered feeling pity if he could feel anything around the building rage. It came over him like a cloud, even set its presence on the warehouse they were stood in. It began to leak into the room as a physical darkness, starting in the corners of the room, in the shadows, and turning the shade into a discernible black mist. Levi wasn’t consciously aware of what was going on because furious umber orbs were set on Gino. The other man appeared to dismiss the sudden swell of navy that complemented his attitude and his suit so well, and held the Vampiro’s gaze.

“I thought that she would be safe, that she would grow up stable and… content,” Gino continued. “But I was selfish, more so than I have ever been, and I pulled her into our web despite spending over twenty years on the effort of keeping her free. It’s because of you.”

“What?”

“I knew you were keeping a secret. It wasn’t one you would share with me, and I rather doubted that you had shared it with your Japanese friend either. This was something that you guarded viciously and the more you tried to hide what it was, the more determined I was to seek it out. When you survived the complete devastation of the Calabria operation, when you single-handedly killed Antonelli and his men, when you wouldn’t wake during daylight hours, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, and would simply vanish from thin air… I had to question how. I was desperate, and sent my own daughter in to spy on you.”

“And, so what? It ain’t my fault she’s a walking, talking corpse.”

“I haven’t accused you,” Gino murmured, looking faintly aggravated. “If anything, I am asking for your assistance. You are the expert here. You do, I suppose, know the creature that did corrupt her.”

“It won’t do you any good, Gino.”

“Not at present.”

“You can’t kill them. Trust me, I’ve tried. I’ve been dead twice already as it happens, and I’m still ******* here.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“So what do you want?”

Chestnut eyes flashed as pitch-black as the room. “I want to accelerate the demise of your kind, D’Amico. You must know you’re doomed. Your numbers are too few to sustain your disorganised ranks. You are a pack of hyenas – divided by in-fighting and petty squabbles of power while the lions close in around you. Nature decides which is the victor in a competition between predators. While your jaws are strong, they are meaningless because they are solitary. The mortal populace of this planet will not accept you with open arms, they will crush you. They are already working on it.”

“So, I guess I owe you an apology of some kind?” Levi said, smirking.

Gino arched a brow at him – it wasn’t exactly the response he was expecting.

“When you said you wouldn’t be subtle about killing me, I guess it was part of the two-percent that I should have believed.”

“It would serve no purpose to kill you,” Gino uttered with a light chuckle. “Did you not just say it yourself? Your kind can’t retain death. Currently. Besides, I think you would consider this an opportunity to join the winning side. For your time.”

Levi all but choked on the laugh that came punching out of him. “Right. You’re not going to kill me because you fully expect me to kill myself. That’s just ******* wonderful. Your imagination deserves a round of applause.”

“Everyone and everything dies, Leviathan. Even you.”

“Maybe, but not in your life time. Gino.”

There was a very large part of him that wanted to call Gino a different name, a biblical reference that best suited him too. For if there was one man he’d known to challenge God’s authority, one man who’d sought out the mysteries of the universe to claim them for himself, it was most certainly Job.

“So, tell me something,” Levi began, taking a moment to light up a cigarette. “What makes you think you get to leave this building alive? I mean, you’ve got an insurance policy. You’re too ******* careful not to have one. I’m just wondering what it is.”

“You are my insurance policy. Or, more specifically, your greed.”

Levi remained silent, waiting for the ******** to finish what he’d meant by that ****-sure comment. Umber eyes were fiercely latched to the other man’s eyes, and every now and then he took a slow drag from the cigarette which coloured his face in hellish scarlet. It might have been enough to intimidate some, but nothing shook Gino. After all, not even standing face to face with a prolific blood-sucker was enough to rattle the old man. The ******** was even smug enough to think he was in control here.

“I can make this masquerade you’re playing easier, or I can make it more difficult. You know that if you cross me, I can have you publically executed. You might not die in the traditional sense of the word, but your livelihood can. How can you cheat death so many times without it appearing suspicious, D’Amico? I have talents and connections that you could only dream of, and I can use them to ruin you, or help you. That’s a choice you will have to make on your own.”

“You’ll only earn yourself a handful of years,” Levi growled at him, breathing smoke from his nostrils.

“I only need a handful of years.”

“You realise that you’ll be killing her too, if you go through with this?”

“She is already dead,” Gino murmured in a tone as stark as a gravestone. “Like you. It’s just that none of you are aware of it yet.”

Was that a pang of pity Levi felt in his cold, undead heart? It could have been. Though it was just as possible that some smoke had entered his lungs in a weird fashion and he just needed to hiccup. Levi had no reason to pity the man that was threatening to ruin him whilst simultaneously holding Levi’s businesses over his head. Gino had taken this stick and carrot scenario to a whole other level, but maybe this was what happened when old men became desperate. His only love in the world had been taken from him, and maybe Levi knew how that felt now, but that didn’t absolve Gino of his threats to take away whatever was left of Levi’s world. Hurting or not, Gino would live to realise that it could get far worse than having your heart shattered.

“You’re gonna need luck.” Levi flicked the bud of his cigarette away. “A lot of it. And that’s just to stop someone hearing that you know. You know what knowledge’s like, Gino. It’s a cancer. If it spreads, a lot of people get hurt and some people die. Me helping you, won’t necessarily save you either.”

Gino only smirked.

“What’s so ******* funny?”

“Just the irony of the matter. You’re teaching me about an underworld of thugs. I find that rather humorous.”

“You’re gonna be laughing yourself to the grave if you keep on.”

“Potentially.”

“And what if you don’t find a solution to your problem, Gino? Have you considered the possibility that some plagues just can’t be eradicated?”

“You’re always thinking so small, Levi. That’s part of the reason you’re doomed, you know?”

Levi had to roll his eyes.

“I do need you to do one thing for me, however.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“Keep as far away from my daughter as possible.”

The request – or was it an order? – seemed valid enough; the only surprising thing was that Gino had been so damn precious. It was both adorable and hilarious. Levi gave a shrug of his shoulders and didn’t comment; anything he had to say wasn’t worth the effort of saying it or enduring the consequences of pissing the man off. That was generally how his calculations went whenever it came to speaking, which was probably why he didn’t say much. Besides, if you’re busy talking, you’re not busy thinking and that’s not where you want to be. Levi had seen and heard about people getting killed just for speaking; either they said something stupid or saying anything at all was a bad idea at the time. In the end, being stupid got you killed. Though it seemed the mortality rate in the Patriarca was higher for idiots than it was in the wider world. That was a shame, some people just didn’t deserve to breathe – not that they deserved to be undead either. Levi hadn’t met many Vampiri –just the idiots that he was supposedly related to – but he had a feeling that the remaining Vampiri didn’t deserve the gift of mortal life let alone the immortal kind. He could be wrong because he hadn’t met every single one of them but, but, he doubted it.

Gino certainly hadn’t given a single **** that some of Levi’s kind could actually be more beneficial to him alive. He’d labelled them the competition, the ones to be eradicated. He would have them exterminated like ******* cockroaches and there was nothing Levi could do to stop the man. Did he even want to? Levi wasn’t sure because he did, after all, loathe the thing he had become and he loathed the fact that Gino had been very accurate with the description of his kind. Nothing mattered at that point. Gino wouldn’t give him any time to explain as the man was already retreating from the scene. People always believed what they wanted to anyway, and if Levi was going to waste his time trying to educate one person, he might as well start reading to orphans or feeding the poor. **** that, bullets were cheaper.