The Unknown Family

Closier

X A V I E R

In my infant age, I was carried around the gardens of my home. As a child, I would run around the halls of the villa in  which I spent my younger years. As a teenager, I would wander the steers of Valencia with my friends, drinking and getting high and getting into police chases after an illegal car race.

And now here I am, as a legal adult, ready to return home after years of being away from my family, from my home...from the place of my nightmares.

The streets still had its unique culture; bright front doors, exotic bricks, the Balearic sea off the coast of the beaches and beneath the cliffs of the hillsides.

Strolling down those same streets with Vito, a bouquet of tulips in my hands, I kept an expressionless face to the people surrounding me, local or tourists; men who looked jealous of me, women staring lustfully, children looking intrigued but cautious.

But they all know one thing about me; I am a mafia man.

The tattoo that lay on my outer hand, the rose with vines and a sword cutting through the centre. The symbol of the Spanish Mafia.

Ignoring the stares, I pushed open the black metal gate, heading straight down the road, glancing at the engraved stones that I passed by on my journey.

"You have your own area of the cemetery?" Vito spoke in a solemn tone, but the look in his eyes told me he was shattering inside.

"Yes, for our family and our soldiers." I replied, pushing open the gate labelled Ramirez.

Vito followed me down the path till we made it to the Don's, Donna's and their children.

Eventually, we came to a stop, gazing up at the statue above us.

There, like an angel, was a statue of my dear sister. It showed her long black hair, reaching down to her waist. Her slim figure and heart shaped face. Dressed in what was designed to be like her hall gown at the Mafia ball at age seventeen.

When she was last happy.

Engraved across the bottom, was Gloria Ramirez:

Born, 12 June 1993
Died, 27 February 2011

Loving wife, daughter, sister and friend.

With his hand shaking, Vito silently reached into his pocket, and pulled out a ring. Silver band with diamonds encrusted around it.

Placing down the flowers, I placed a kiss on the end of my fingers before placing them down on the statue like headstone of my sister.

Vito needed to be here more than I do.

I left Vito who had bent down on one knee, the ring now resting in her open palm.

Standing in silence, I watched how Vito finally got the chance to grieve the love of his life, the woman who was stolen away from him before they get the opportunity to really be together.

I waited until he had risen to his feet once again, heading back over to him as he continued to stare down at the grave.

Once I got there, I was welcomed with the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks, glistening in the Spanish sunlight.

"Let's go." Was all he said, voice quiet and weak.

This must of been the first time Vito has ever been able to visit her grave, not wanting to look suspicious and cause trouble.

Nodding my head, I followed after him. We reached outside of the cemetery, where a large black jeep stood waiting for us, three men with loaded guns standing beside it in a calm, yet subtly threatening, manner.

"Mr Ramirez, it has been a long time." The man in the middle spoke, his English barely audible due to he heaviness off his Spanish accent.

"Did Carlos send you?" I questioned, arms folded over my chest as I scanned the surrounding men.

"Yes, Don Ramirez wishes to see both you, and Don Vitale." He responded, glancing over a Vito before tightening his hold on the weapon.

"Very well then." Vito agreed, making his way to the jeep in front of us, "My men will be following behind, for security purposes."

"As you wish Don Vitale." The man seemed clearly uncomfortable at the closeness he and Vito shared.

I just followed after Vito and climbed into the jeep, enjoying the feeling of the air conditioner wafting towards me in the backseat.

The men soon climbed back back inside the jeep, then driving off down the busy, children and market filled street.

"How did the information of our arrival come to my brother?" I questioned, looking down at the driver and two men through the rear view mirror.

This is a little test I always do, seeing what basic information they know to figure out how trusted they are to their bosses.

"The airport in New York flagged your passport and sent Don Ramirez a photograph and message of your destination and arrival." The man from before explained.

Seems like he was informed of this straight away, knowing all this information.

We drove past the sea on our way to Carlos, who is no doubt planning a huge lecture for me and desperately trying to resist the urge to kill Vito.

But we have a purpose here together.

We are going to tell Carlos of what the Vitale family has done for me, my relationship with Liviana, Vito's relationship with Gloria and finally... murdering the man my bastard of a father sent her to marry.

And it will be a slow, painful, and satisfying murder to do.