Trapped by the Mafia Boss

"I wake up with the brightness in my eyes, and it bothers me a lot. I don't know why the hell I always forget to close the bedroom curtains before going to sleep. I guess it's because I've gotten used to sleeping while staring at the darkness; it reflects what I am in my purest essence. I am death itself, bringing chaos and despair wherever I go. I have no mercy; I lost my faith a long time ago, even though I still attend church when necessary. It's part of my duties, my obligations, but not a shred of light enters my being. I think that's why I get along well with the night and despise the day.

I wish everyone around me were like me, lovers of the night, but since they are not, I need to adapt to the days. Like a vampire whose skin burns under the sunlight, I head straight for the curtains; I need to close them. In the closet, I put on gray sweatpants and a shirt, lace up my sneakers, and go brush my teeth. I'm irritated, which is not much different from my usual state of mind, but today, not even the weekend in Palermo could calm my nerves.

That place is my refuge, where I can disconnect a bit from my duties as the Don of the Dalla Costa. Even though no one knows, I had good times there with my parents. It's as if that were the only place in the world where we could be ourselves, free from the heavy obligations that come with our positions. There, my siblings and I were just kids and young people sharing good moments with the family. I keep that piece of paradise and humanity to myself.

The entire legal economic structure of our organization is located within the business conglomerate headquartered at EUR in Rome, where I spend most of my time. Our organization was established many years ago, long before Mussolini's fascist regime. We were imprisoned, tortured, and nearly wiped out by that worm, but the Dalla Costa doesn't let anything or anyone bring us down. La famiglia united in the name of loyalty, honor, and revenge. We took back what was ours: La nostra terra.

We freed the prisoners, dominated the economy, and everything passed through us, through our hands. Our branches reached into all businesses. In one way or another, everyone owed subservience to the Dalla Costa, which is now led by me, the rightful Don, and my brothers, Fabrizio Dalla Costa, my Consigliere, and Rico Dalla Costa, my Underboss. Our surname precedes us; it's from it that our organization emerged, and that's how it's known.

Being headquartered in this specific location is no coincidence. We send the message that we liberated Italy from the fascist regime and took it for ourselves. Here, Mussolini built his empire, and here we took it. This is La Nostra Terra, and whoever lives on this piece of land will be subject to our own Laws.

It's been this way since my ancestors took it, and it will be the same with my descendants. I know the time is approaching when I will have to settle down with one woman, but that time hasn't come yet. It's what's expected of me. As Don, I need an heir to pass my seat to, but deep down, I thought that one day, just as my parents found each other, I too would find someone worth it. However, I've come to understand that this won't happen. My soul was forged solitary in hell; I have no match.

So, I am left with no choice but to select one of the family's daughters, women raised to marry one of ours. I know that whichever one I choose, it will be with honor granted to me. All of them want to be my wife, and all the capos want the opportunity to marry one of their daughters to me or my brothers.

Even trying to avoid this moment, I know it's time. Fabrizio, my brother and consigliere, has been talking to me about this possibility. None of us have married yet, and by hierarchy, I should be the first. We need a child, an heir to pass on the teachings. He needs to grow up before we become too old to teach him what is necessary.

We are still relatively young; I am thirty-three years old, the well-known age at which Christ died, and it's at this same age that my consigliere wants me to make the sacrifice of getting married."

"And I will do it. I carry this organization as the greatest purpose of my life. For it, I would sacrifice my own life, give my blood, my soul, as I swore when I was initiated. Getting married is just another one of my obligations.

I observe my reflection in the mirror as I finish brushing my teeth and splash water on my face. My outward beauty contrasts with what I carry inside. I am not like the Beast from a well-known fairy tale, terrifying on the outside but with a heart and soul asleep within. I am the exact opposite; my interior is a dark and impenetrable abyss. Nothing inside me is salvageable, but on the outside, I am like a fallen angel. The only window to my soul is my blue eyes, cold as ice, but they are also impenetrable. Only I can see through the mirror. Perhaps my brothers have a vague idea of what I truly am, but even they don't really know me.

'I’m going out, and I don’t want anyone following me,' I inform Amadeu, my head of security.

'But sir...' He starts the usual talk I knew would come, trying to convince me not to leave without an escort. But he immediately swallows his words when I spin on my heels, giving him a deadly look.

He got the message. He knew I hadn’t woken up in the best of moods just by my attitude. It was good that he knew me—actually, necessary. The years by my side had taught him when he could or couldn’t speak around me, and no, today was not a good day.

This crap that Fabrizio is trying to make me swallow is killing me. What makes me start the week more irritated than usual is the fact that in the coming days, I'll be occupied with dinners, possibly trying to meet some supposed prospects.

I didn’t want to, but I understand it's necessary. I’ve always preferred to get sexually involved with women who weren’t part of the Dalla Costa. I didn’t want to plant illusions in their minds or in their fathers' minds, but now, unfortunately, I find myself forced to do so.

Since it won’t be for love, let it be for the family's interests.

I pass through the gates of the estate where only my brothers and I live. It's a property a little far from the city, about thirty minutes in one of my many fast cars, but far enough to keep our privacy intact.

Being a remote place, vineyards and other plantations line the way. Sometimes I come here to run, trying to find the balance that Palermo brings me.

With my headphones at maximum volume, I pick up the pace of my run to the sound of 'Hail to the King' by Avenged Sevenfold. I like the lyrics of this song; it's exactly how I feel about this city. I hold back the urge to sing along with the loud music.

I show nothing, not even my musical tastes. No one needs to know more about me—I never allow it. But I sing in my mind, 'Hail the king. Hail the one. Kneel to the crown, stand in the sun, Hail the king.'

I am the king."