Chapter Text
"You can get much further with a kind word and a gun then you can with a kind word alone" - Al Capone
For Elise Castelletto, life was indeed strange. As most saying goes: a vita è piena di sorprese... or, life fulfilled by its surprises. And, unfortunately, all the surprises gifted to her were wrapped by no other than the wicked devil himself.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF "THE DON" GABRIELLE CASTELLETTO
I, Gabrielle Castelletto, also known as "The Boss" (Godfather) proceeding Giuseppe Castelletto, being of sound mind and body, do hereby make, publish, and declare this to be my last will and testament. I have lived a life of power, wealth, and influence, but now it is time for me to depart from this world and pass on my legacy to the next generation.
To my wonderful mother, Maria Castelletto, my confidant and inspiration, I shall continue in my late father’s place to care for her until death. I shall leave her position as full comare over the Bambini Scomparsi Ritrovati orphanage in Tuscany; additionally, a grand sum of $25 million to continue daily business operations with the orphanage to fulfill the needed role of salvation.
To my younger brother and underboss, Demario Castelletto, I leave my most gratitude and respect. Demario has been my right-hand man for many years, and I trust him to continue to command, enforce, and to continue supporting my beloved niece, Elise, and our family legacy. I also leave to him a sum of $10 million, and an enforcer, as a token of my appreciation for his years of loyal service, both in blood and oath.
And to my beloved niece, Elise B. Castelletto, I leave our family's entire empire: Confraternita Vendicatrice, including all assets, properties and estates, business holdings exclusively to her. I trust that she will carry on this family business with the same determination, courage, and intelligence that she has exhibited throughout her life. I have no doubt that she will lead the Castelletto family to greater heights and secure our place in the annals of history.
In the event that any of my beneficiaries predecease me or fail to survive me by thirty days, I direct that his or her share shall be divided equally among the remaining beneficiaries.
In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and seal this 2nd day of June, 1957.
Signed, Gabrielle Francesco-Zeno Castelletto.
"What the literal hell is this?"
Life held many ups and downs for her, although Elise would prefer to argue she fallen through the gates of hell more times than one. And within this case, just a mere week after her thirteenth birthday celebration, she stumbled upon her own uncle -a man whom she had grown attached to- bound and gagged in his office chair, his once formidable stature reduced to a lifeless corpse riddled with silver bullets as if a crazed clown seethed for vindication. A human fontina cheesed body with marmellata its tinged flavor.
To some degree, she thought being exposed to people dying would eventually numb these vivid tremors, the sharp spikes of pain inflicting her chest and then tightening her esophagus with an invisible hand, hence lacking necessary air. Feeling fuzzy albeit drowned in ice. Eyes over blurred despite quality of her spectacles. But these sensations are still so new, fresh, hammering down the horrific reality of humanity- or, lack, thereof, because death was always lurking in the shadows. Witnessing death each time- which was far and few- still rattled her mind and dragged her back to that very day when papà...
A sharp crack echoed into the air. An invisible lightning strikes the sunny skies, but there was little rain.
Then, Elise saw her papà on the ground and idle. A broken doll, as the deep shade of red flooded beneath him. Those same reflective eyes of blue are now glossy. Distant. Unmoving. And despite the horrid screams rattling her eardrums and searing into her mind reminiscent of nails upon a chalkboard, she does not move. While everyone rushed to attend to her papà, now defined later as a body, Elise only stared into his eyes. And there's nothing in them.
She wasn't certain what defined the concept of trauma, or, say, the justifications of remembering unpleasant images that rested deep inside her unconscious, supposedly dormant, until she witness something unusual again to trigger those same images once more. Trauma, she concluded, was much subtle than expected.
At the time, she didn't understand what occurred or why it happened. All she knew was that her papà, a blond, blue-eyed Frenchman, held her tiny hand in his larger ones when they left the city of Rome with Elise remembering his cheeky smile. His reflective eyes. His hearty laughter. The sun was shining down upon his fair-skin, and they- her papà, mamma, and she- was simply that. Happy.
"This cannot be!" Demario, her other uncle, screeched when he attempted to recollect himself, but Elise doubted any collection would occur other than immediate retribution. The rest of her family members including herself sat at the table to discuss future handling of their family legacy. A legacy that Elise often pondered throughout her life while living with her extended members for a good handful of years.
Every figure was draped in the solemn hues of mourning, their hidden sorrows shrouded in delicate lace veils and adorned with fragile lilies pinned to their shoulders. Even those men and women she did not know seemed to wear the weight of their grief like a second skin. The scene was sharp and depressing, a reflection of the finality of death, and of course, the mood was quite appropriate after leaving the cathedral church to pay final respects to her late uncle before pallbearers arrived to claim his coffin. It seemed almost befitting that the clouded skies had hovered above them and shedded its own tears of rain due to distraught.
"It seems to be so, sir." Emilio was a menacing figure whom Elise barely knew but recognized as her uncles' trusted aide. He was always by her uncles' side, and he was the first to greet her on the day her mamma disappeared. His face was stoic, his expression equally unreadable, but his eyes were razor sharp, and his gaze unwavering.
"In the will explicitly states that the boss had appointed Elise as the overseer of this organization," he said, his voice low and measured. "You must remain as an underboss until further notice. Everyone else will also maintain in position, as requested."
Other members of the family were silent with bulging eyes, stunned by this revelation. Even she herself was horrified by this news that befell upon her. Her mind screamed that these claims were no more than decorative lies, a hoax to fill her further with unneeded dread. In fact, Elise was never apart of any businesses meetings her uncles often attended and only caught a glimpse of aftermath dealings going awry, which often involved the raw and brutal force of physical violence. However, nanna Maria taught her that they, the Castellettos, were simply business investors seeking further prosperity outside the boundaries of Tuscany. How they attained it, however, was an unnecessary concern.
The air was suffocating in thick tension, thus making it difficult to breathe. Within this room was filled with quiet whispers and muffled curses. Elise tried to focus on fiddling with the ruffled ends of her black dress, but she could feel the intense hatred from the many people in the room. It was as if invisible bullets were being fired into her cranium and making her feel beyond overwhelmed.
"How can that tiny bambina-" Elise flinched at Demario's verminous words. "Be suitable for anything? Let alone running my own padre's mob? She is almost useless if it wasn’t for Eleonora making the mistake fondling with that francese!“
"Demario, enough." Nanna Maria's cane slammed down on the floor with a loud thud. "You shall never speak of your sister like that again. What’s done is done, but Elise is still apart of this family and yes, it is uncertain what lies ahead, but as eldest, Gabrielle made this decision in the written will."
"But how can you accept this ludicrous proposal?!" Another man had spoken up, angry.
"Boss died for a kid."
"What a demented fool!"
"Dio ci ha abbandonati…"
Yes, it is true. As Elise had contemplated her own identity many times before, she came to the realization that there was a biological factor at play, a mysterious force that she couldn't tame or manipulate. The weight of her parents' contrasting cultures of weighed heavily upon her, pulling her in different directions and creating a peculiar sense of displacement. Trapped between two worlds, between a struggle to fully embrace either French or Sicilian, perpetually stranded in a constant state of limbo.
And, well, it seemed like no one cared for either.
"Silenzio!" Emilio's voice boomed through the room, and the constant chattering came to an abrupt halt. Every eye in the room was fixed on Emilio as he stood, his imposing glare daring anyone to challenge him. "What the hell is wrong with you people?" Emilio's voice had dripped with ferocity. "The boss has barely been buried an hour, and already you're talking smack about him? Show some damn loyalty!"
He slammed his hand down on the table and the papers shook with the force of it. "We don't know why the boss made this choice, but we damn well better respect it. He saved all of our lives more than once, and now you want to question his decision? Your disrespect is not just towards him, but towards the late Giuseppe too. If you want to challenge that, then you better be ready to pay the price."
Emilio's eyes glittered with fury as he surveyed the room, questioning someone to cross him. "Choose your options carefully, because if you disrespect the boss, you're disrespecting us all."
"And what about me?" Demario leapt from his chair, sending it crashing to the floor. "You dare overlook the underboss? After all I've done? I've clawed my way to the top, suffered through years of shit to get where I am today. And for what? More money? Worthless hookers? Cigarettes and cheap booze? Don't make me laugh. My brother was taken out in the middle of the damn night, grieving over our sister who's gone dios knows where after her medigan got whacked. And you're telling me I don't deserve the title I've earned? I'm the one who should be calling the shots, not that sniveling brat!" Demario's eyes glinted with a fierce, unquenchable hunger.
"You speak nonsense, Demario," Emilio said, his voice laced with intensity. "I've known Gabrielle longer before you were born. There is a reason the administration allowed me to become a made man, a consigliere. Do not betray your own fresh and blood for your brother held his reasons."
"His guilt and pathetic shame have blinded him," declared Demario, his eyes burning with fury. "A small, inexperienced girl like her couldn't possibly handle a gun, yet you've foolishly gone along with my brother's ridiculous scheme. And what use is a helpless child like her? Cry herself to sleep? Just look at her!" He pointed an accusing finger at Elise, who sat trembling in front of him. Then he raised his voice, "She's a liability to us, and you know it. We must let her go before she ruins everything we've worked for. Are you willing to risk everything for a little girl's tears?"
"We have the opportunity to train and teach her the skills necessary for a leadership role. With proper guidance and instruction, she can excel-" "-don't give me that fucking bullshit! If it wasn't for my madre then that half-casted brat would've been out on the damn street-" "-yet because of your sister we must keep her here!"
Ah, it's happening again.
Elise was on the brink of losing her mind. She had been trapped in this room for what felt like eternity, listening to the constant bickering of these people about her self worth. But now, it was all becoming too much. The heated exchange of words was suffocating her, thick like a dense fog, and she struggled to retain proper air.
Every voice felt like a weight, pulling her down further into the abyss. She was drowning in a sea of their harsh voices, each one vying for attention. Elise was unable to find any solid ground to stand on, the waves of their words crashing over her relentlessly. Soon, the intensity of their argument escalated to a fever pitch, each word spoken louder and with more venom than the last. Elise could now feel the pressure building inside her skull, her heart slamming against her ribcage like a battering ram. Her hands grew slick with sweat as she tried to maintain her composure, but her vision blurred and her breaths came in short gasps.
Desperate to escape the suffocating tension, Elise pushed herself up from the plush chair, her legs wobbling beneath her. She stumbled backwards, her fingers grasping blindly for something to hold onto. But fate was cruel, and her hand collided with a delicate vase, sending it crashing to the floor in a cacophony of shattered glass.
This caught everyone's attention. As the shards of glass scattered across the floor, thousand eyes fell upon her immediately and Elise could feel her esophagus tighten again for what seemed to be the fortieth time. She stumbled upon her words, trying to justify her excuses for creating more unnecessary issues than simply existing. However, nothing was coming out except short gasps of lacking air. And finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She needed to escape; she needed to get away from the chaos that surrounded her.
A second later and Elise found herself running with her heart pounding in her chest. Her body shook with tremors as she clutched at her chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. Grand and imposing, the foyer was quite large with its high ceilings and intricate moldings. The walls were adorned with ancient tapestries and oil paintings of long-deceased ancestors, and a marble fountain bubbled merrily in the center of the room. The floor was made of glossy tiles that shone like polished mirrors, and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over everything.
So beautiful, and yet, so filled with ugliness.
In panicked gasps, she stumbled down the marbled steps and emerged outside into the vast expanse before her. As far as her blue eyes could see, rows upon rows of grapevines stretched out with their darkened leaves being battered by raindrops. Thick clouds covered the sky, a sea of darkness that matched the heavy scent of wet earth and the melancholic melody of these raindrops.
Every tree drooped under the weight of the rain, as though weeping for an unknown sorrow. Limply hanging leaves were once bright and green, now muted by the oppressive clouds.
The neverending downpour washed away everything: every color, every sound, every memory, leaving behind a world as empty and cold as her heart had felt. The bleak, desolate surroundings reflected the emptiness within.
Elise felt a sense of calamity seeping into her bones as the rain washed away every ounce of fear within her. But she didn't have time to ruminate in the melancholy of these surroundings. With her heart pounding in her chest, she started to run, pounding against the soft earth in search of a safe place to hide from the phantom danger that lurked behind her.
Her whole being was drenched in fear, her heart pounding against her chest like the hammer of a blacksmith. The cries of the sky were relentless, as if the heavens themselves were mourning the tragedies that had befallen her. She ran, her long blonde curls clumped and matted against her pale skin, which was deemed too colorless to be beautiful. But beauty was the last thing on her mind as she stumbled across the cobblestones, almost slipping and falling again.
Her legs were numb from running, and her body was weak and frail. She felt like a lost orphan, abandoned by her mamma and left to the mercy of her uncle's family. She didn't understand any of it, not the reason why her madre left her, nor the reason why her papà died, and now, to be thrust into the center of a vague family business she knew almost nothing about. It was all too much.
Elise sought refuge beneath a large oak tree with her black dress, veil, white stockings and black flats being soaked through by the merciless rain. But the cold and dampness did not register to her, for her mind was consumed by the weight of her worries. She had been taught by the nannies to be a proper lady, one with manners and grace, but all she could feel now was a sense of overwhelming dread.
Gabrielle's will have been read at the family gathering and Elise was shocked to hear that she, a mere child, was to take over his responsibilities. It had only been six days ago when she had celebrated her thirteenth birthday with her uncle along with the servants, the nannies, and a few cousins, sipping on French tea and enjoying the delights of their jolly day. How could it be that her life had taken such a sharp turn in so short a time? How? It's just not fair to her!
She was too lost in her thoughts, unable to make sense of the situation. All she knew was that her world had been turned upside down, and the tears she had been holding back threatened to spill over at any moment. The cries of the sky echoed her inner turmoil, and she was left to wonder if there was any hope left in the world.
Just why? This doesn't even make sense. Nothing does anymore. She knows so little of it, and yet she's been appointed to conduct dealings with strangers where death might be involved.
No. Death is involved.
The memory was etched deeply in her mind, as vivid as if it had occurred just yesterday. She was only nine years old when it happened, but even now, it continued to haunt her in her dreams. She knew every detail, every sound, every smell of that day.
Elise peered from the high staircase railings, watching as her family members conversed in hushed tones in the living room. They all wore serious expressions, and Elise's uncle, Gabrielle, seemed particularly tense. He paced back and forth across the room, muttering to himself. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she knew something was wrong. Her stomach churned with anxiety as she watched her uncle pull out a gun and place it on the coffee table. The other men in the room followed suit, pulling out their own firearms and then checking the chambers.
The sound of shattering wood filled the air as the front door was kicked open, unleashing a wave of suited men into the room. Elise's heart thundered in her chest as she shrunk back, unable to make out their faces through the hidden shadows. Their voices were rough, cold, demanding something unknown from her uncle. And then, in terror, she watched as he tried to reason with them, his hands held up in a placating gesture. But the tension in the room was too thick to diffuse. Gunfire erupted, shattering the uneasy calm with chaos. Her screams was lost in the cacophony of noise as one of the men crumpled to the ground, leaving a growing pool of crimson in his wake. Her gaze was fixed on the motionless body, the sight of blood reminiscent of her papà's death. She then watched, shaken, as her uncle knelt beside the fallen man, his hand checking for a pulse.
The man was dead.
Her teeth chattered as she struggled to stay warm, but the rain kept coming down in an endless deluge. Her fingers and toes were numb with cold, and she could feel her body temperature dropping rapidly. The wind howled around her, and she felt a sense of despair wash over her as she realized just how hopeless her situation was. Elise tried to wrap her arms around herself to stay warm, but her wet clothes provided no protection from the elements.
As she looked around, everything seemed to blur together. And, in her gradual delirium, Elise began to hallucinate, seeing strange and frightening shapes moving in the shadows around her.
One shadow in particular haunted her the most.
"Z-z-zi-i-io...?" A choke whisper exited from her lips, but Elise wasn't certain if she had truly spoken or not. However, the blurring figure appeared in front of her, tall and indescribable and yet ever so terrifying.
The male figure looming before her was a twisted nightmare come to life, a distorted reflection of what was once human. The bullet holes riddled across his body were like macabre decorations, a testament to the violence that had claimed his life. Each hole was an endless abyss, an inky void that seemed to pull her in. They were a reminder that death was never far behind, and that this figure had been caught in its grasp.
His face was twisted into a grotesque mask, a mockery of what had once been a man. His eyes, once bright and alive, were now sunken pits of darkness, the pupils mere pinpricks in the gloom. The flesh around them was torn and ragged, like a piece of fabric that had been ripped apart.
Oh mio Dio.
She wanted to run, to escape this nightmare, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to move. In the end, Elise succumbed to the cold and fell into a deep sleep, her body no longer able to fight the cold rain.
x
As Elise went to answer the door, she thought to herself that her mother had finally returned home. However, she was surprised to be greeted by a tall man in a black suit holding a suitcase.
"Who are you?" Elise stuttered, trying to comprehend the situation.
"I'm your uncle's friend. You need to gather your belongings and come with me," he replied sternly.
"But my mamma-" Elise started to protest.
"Is gone. She's never coming back." he interrupted with a heavy sigh.
Gone.
x
"Bambina, wake up."
Elise slowly opened her eyes, feeling the warmth of the comforter enveloping her body in a cozy embrace. The softness of the bed seeped into her bones, while crisp sheets rustled softly beneath her. She heard a familiar voice and peered over her shoulder to find a blob sitting across from her. As she blinked a few times to clear her vision, she could barely recognize the person and neither the room. So she sat up, frustrated.
Thankfully, the rain had stopped and the fireplace crackled in the background. A delicious scent her nostrils, but before she could say anything, something pressed against her face and suddenly everything became crystal clear. And, by the looks of it, she was back in her room again. Elise could now observe a significant transformation in her clothing. Her previous outfit, which had resembled a sogged mourning gown, had been substituted with a soft blue nightdress. Her previously drenched hair was now dry and wrapped in a fluffy white towel, while her stockings, shoes, and accessories had been taken off, rendering her somewhat exposed.
My glasses.
"A-Antonietta?"
"Oh grazie al cielo!" The woman exclaimed. "My goodness, when Emilio brought you here I nearly had a heart attack. What on earth were you thinking going out in the rain like that? You could've gotten severely sick! Then you had broken another vase, Madrea Maria! You should've known better than to do something reckless like this." Antonietta chastised, her chestnut eyes were stern and her deep frown only added to her scolding. Out of all the nannies tending to her, Elise always gravitated towards Antonietta. She wasn't certain why, but maybe it's the oddity of her short and curly salt-and-pepper hair, or, maybe it's the natural warmth that exuded from the woman's smile, thus providing a natural ease. Or, perhaps, it might be admiration for her olive skin which was smooth, soft, with a slight rosy tint on her round cheeks and a pillowed cushion for a body.
Antonietta was like a mother to her.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry is simply inexcusable, Elise." She said, "you cannot keep running away whenever things become stressful. How long must you escape these fears?"
Elise felt a knot form in her stomach. She knew her nanny was right. She had been avoiding confrontations and difficult situations for far too long, but admitting it felt like a failure. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm trying to work on it. But it's not easy." She couldn't explain whatever... this was; the shaking, the panicking, the crying, and the frequent state of doom. These haunted demons seemed endless, lurking and waiting to magnify her fears tenfold. Antonietta's tea blend helped ease the troublesome reactions, but yet she couldn't fully control it.
Her room was decorated in finest furnishings, including plush velvet sofas and armchairs arranged around a welcoming fireplace. Soft warm walls complemented the rich wood flooring, and a large wool rug anchored the seating area. Sumptuous curtains draped the large windows, adding to the luxurious atmosphere. Despite its opulence, the room had a homely touch with family photographs arranged on the mantle and a cozy reading nook nestled in the corner.
The older woman then handed Elise a silver sterling tray with almond tea and biscotti, knowing it was her preference. As Elise sipped the comforting tea, the flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the walls, creating a cozy ambiance. However, the peace was short lived as silence was soon disturbed.
"Elise, there's a difficult issue we need to confront in this room."
"What's the matter?"
"I was in the foyer with everyone, and I know you don't want to hear it, but Gabrielle left you with a significant responsibility to fulfill. Do you comprehend the seriousness of the situation?" The news drained the color from Elise's cheeks just as quickly as it had filled them with a tinge of pink, leaving her looking paler than usual.
"I-I don't know," Elise stuttered, feeling herself growing stiffer by the second. "I don't want to be involved in anything. I like things the way they are now... why can't Demario be in charge? It would make more sense to give him that title, 'Netta. I just want to be left alone." She didn't want to deal with adult responsibilities, oversee anything, or be bothered with paperwork and daily tasks of managing dozens of people doing who knows what. She refused to witness any more deaths, unwilling to confront the brutal reality of mortality. She longed to ignore the possibilities of violent endings and cling to the illusion of a normal life, no matter how abnormal it may be.
Antonietta shook her head sympathetically. "I know this is hard for you, Elise, as this is difficult for everyone," she said gently. "No one knows why your uncle made this decision, but it is a title that has been bestowed upon you. I am so sorry this had to happen at such a young age." Her expression was already solemn, but it seemed to weigh even more heavily upon her now. "You don't deserve it, child," she continued. "Your uncle was only nineteen when he was given the same responsibilities from his father. It's not an easy journey, but I oversaw them just as much as I have watched you."
"But why!" Elise exploded for the first time in years. Her hesitant demeanor had vanished, replaced by a sudden rush of anger. "I never even asked for something like this! Did anyone even consider how I feel about it? Did anyone ask if I was okay with dealing with... stuff like that? No! And besides, everyone hates me here, so what's the point? Why would anyone care about me?"
"That's not true and you know it!" Antonietta hushed her with a single look of motherly disappointment. "You have been a blessing to this family since Gabrielle brought you here. You are no shame to anyone! Especially not to me." For a moment Elise felt deeply conflicted. In one breath, she knew what she felt inside that foyer with everyone scrutinizing her every move, condemning her position in this distorted form of monarchy. Disdain. Hate. Embarrassment. However, after years living with Antonietta, nanna, and the others around the estate, it felt like a home. An unusual home, but one nonetheless. Which one is she to believe?
"Antonietta, what are we?"
"What do you mean, child?"
"Us, the Castellettos. This legacy, this lineage, this business. What is it, truly?"
A deafening hush enveloped the room, as each second ticked by, Elise felt a nauseating knot of foreboding twist in her gut. She watched, with mounting apprehension, as Antonietta's demeanor transformed before her eyes. The maternal aura, once a comforting embrace, dissolved into a sinister specter. The woman's lips thinned, eyes narrowed into slits, and her pupils dilated into a grotesque manifestation of something twisted and malevolent.
"We, my dear child, are part of the illustrious mafia. We don't just exist, we thrive. We are the hand that deals death to those who dare to oppose us. It's in our blood, coursing through our veins, an inescapable legacy. As for your uncle," Antonietta's voice was low, her brown eyes fixed on Elise. "We will have him avenged. It is our duty, as a family and as a Mafia, to bring justice to those who have wronged us. And I want you to remember that, Elise, every night before bed. What has been wronged will be made right by our hands."
And within this moment Elise broke. The words reverberated in her mind, a chilling reminder of the price of power and the cost of loyalty. The Castellettos, a name synonymous with fear, respect, and treachery, were a force to be reckoned with.
"Now, get some sleep, child." The evil that once lurked in her eyes dissipated instantly, returning back to the lovely, lecturing, and graceful woman that she always admired. "We already had a heavy week, but rest assured that everything will get better with time." With a gentle kiss on her forehead, Elise watched Antonietta withdraw from the edge of her bed and leave the room.
Does death also fall under our legacy, too?