Marcello
Silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant hum of cicadas. I've been sitting at Tino's grave for what feels like an eternity, my heart aching with grief. Ten long years...ten years since I last saw my brother. And now he's gone, buried beneath the earth that I can't seem to stop staring at.
In this lifetime, I've carried many regrets with me. And now, here at this graveside, I find myself adding another one to the list. With one last lingering look, I stand up and brush off my knees before turning to leave.
But as I make my way through the cemetery, a familiar figure catches my eye. Vlad, hands tucked into his pockets, stands waiting for me with a grim expression on his face.
"Vlad," I acknowledge him with a slight nod, knowing that his presence here can only mean one thing—bad news.
I had thought that with Jimenez dead, it would all be over. But as Vlad approaches and begins to speak, I realize that everything is just beginning.
"Capo Lastra."
A sly smirk spreads across Vlad's face, and I can feel the corners of my lips twitch in annoyance. "What is it?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"You need to take your position back, my friend. War is coming," he says with a hint of amusement in his tone. I scoff at his choice of words, the memory of bloodshed and betrayal still fresh in my mind.
"Not interested ten years ago, not interested now," I reply sharply, brushing past him.
"What about your sisters?" he asks, and I stop in my tracks, turning to face him with a cold glare.
"What about them?" I have two sisters, Assisi and Venezia. Both young... far too young to know about the cruelty of the world. My stomach twists at the thought of them being caught up in the violence that looms on the horizon.
"They'll be fair game for anyone looking for legitimacy. Still not your business?" Vlad taunts, knowing exactly how to hit a nerve.
"They'll manage," I lie through gritted teeth, knowing deep down that there is no way they will ever be able to handle what's coming.
There was a reason I left that life behind a decade ago. A dark secret that still haunts me to this day and prevents me from sleeping at night.
"You know they won't. Venezia is what... fifteen?" Vlad casually remarks as if it's no big deal, but I can feel the anger boiling within me. She'd been just a small child when I walked away without looking back. But as much as I want to ignore it, he's right. They will be easy targets if I don't intervene.
As hard as I try to cling to my old identity as Marcel Lester and pretend that everything is still normal, that Tino is still alive and well... I can't deny the grim reality staring me in the face. War is coming, and I can't keep running from it forever.
Reluctantly, I give in to his demands. "I'll make the move into the house soon."
"I knew you'd come around." Vlad's face lights up with satisfaction. "The Gallaghers have already made their first play. It's time for you to make yours."
"I know. I'll pay a visit to Enzo and make amends now that we have the truth about Romina's death."
"That's not what I meant." Vlad's eyes bore into mine. "You need to solidify an alliance. Through marriage."
"Venezia is too young, and Assisi is on her way to becoming a nun," I interject quickly.
"I wasn't talking about them," Vlad says pointedly.
"I cannot marry. You know better than anyone why that is," I emphasize, my voice laced with bitterness. My past has stained me, making it impossible for me to even consider marriage. The thought of being intimate with a woman fills me with revulsion.
"But you must," Vlad insists firmly. "It's the only way to secure your position."
"There's only one woman I would ever entertain marrying. And she is no longer here." With a heavy heart, I lift my gaze to the sky, picturing her face in my mind once more.
"Exactly. She's gone. Which means you must marry whoever Enzo proposes. You need to realize that times are changing." Vlad's being more forceful than I've ever seen him.
"I won't shirk my responsibility... if only for my sisters."
"It can be a marriage in name only," he suggests, his tone serious and calculating.
I grunt. A marriage in name only is the only type of marriage I am capable of.