Page 47 of Scar

Family. She has no idea what true family means. And she certainly doesn't consider me part of hers, especially now that her sons are gone. I hear my father's voice calling my name, and the overwhelming urge to lash out at this woman consumes me. I clench my fists, my mind racing.

“I won't just walk away,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Allegra...” My father's weakened voice stops me in my tracks. He has fallen back into his chair, his face pale and serious. I've always known he never truly liked Scar's mother; that much was clear from bits and pieces of conversations over the years.

I turn to leave, overwhelmed with sorrow and anger. As I make my way through the halls of the mansion, I take note of all the unfamiliar faces now roaming through our home. It used to be ours - mine, Scar's, and our families' - but now it is being violated by outsiders. Not only were their bodies desecrated, but their home will be too. My heart aches as I contemplate the loss of not only my loved ones, but also the sacred space we once called home.

CHAPTER 41 – ALLEGRA

On the day of the Gatti brothers' funeral, a ferocious downpour blankets the cemetery, foreshadowing the storm that will soon engulf us all. The rain hammers down relentlessly, only stopping as we enter the family mausoleum where the brothers will be laid to rest. The burial is a small and intimate affair, with only a few remaining members of the immediate family in attendance. Later, we will gather in the gazebo for a larger service with all those who wish to pay their respects - a true test of my patience as I navigate through insincere condolences.

Benita Gatti and I stand on opposite sides of the tomb, where the four brothers' coffins are placed. She never takes her eyes off me, her gaze piercing and evaluating. I can't bear it, so I turn away and focus on the names etched into each coffin.

After everyone leaves, I take a moment alone to say my final goodbyes. I run my fingers over each brother's name, feeling connected to them in some way as I bid them farewell. My emotions overwhelm me when I reach Scar's coffin - my tears flow freely.

“I can't bear this pain, Scar,” I cry out. “If only you hadn't sent me away.”

I compose myself and make my way to the gazebo for the main service. My parents are already seated, and I join them. As much as I try to ignore her, my gaze keeps drifting towardsBenita Gatti - a woman who hasn't shed a single tear for her sons.

Looking around at the mourners, many unfamiliar faces catch my eye. Despite being born into this life, my parents always sheltered me from the seedy underbelly of our criminal world. Now, seeing these faces and knowing what they represent, I understand why.

My thoughts are interrupted by various people coming up to offer their condolences. I notice that many avoid approaching Benita Gatti - perhaps because they don't know her, or maybe because they don't think she has the right to be here after being an absent mother for so long. When the line of mourners thins out, I steal a glance at Benita as she stands on the other side of the gazebo, chatting with two men. I watch curiously as she speaks animatedly, and then turns to look over her shoulder as another man joins them.

“Bruno Luciani. Alfredo Scarfone. Santo Luciani.”

My father's words bring me back to reality. He knows exactly what I'm thinking and what my suspicions are. And I know this because he shares the same thoughts.

“Why is she consorting with the enemy?”

“She’s playing the game, like she said. She wouldn’t last a second in this world without making alliances with these men.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I shake my head. “They could easily eliminate her and take everything for themselves. Why bother keeping her alive while killing off the brothers?”

My father studies me carefully. There's something in his expression that tells me he knows more than I do. Now I'm even more curious about what caused the rift between the brothers and their mother, and between my father and Scar’s.

“Donna Gatti…Don Marone.”

Two men step forward and offer their hands to my father. Despite dealing with their condolences and respectful smiles, Ican't help but be distracted by Benita sitting on the edge of my mind, a missing puzzle piece waiting to be solved. It's right there, a mystery begging to be uncovered, yet I can't seem to pinpoint what's troubling me.

“Donna Gatti,” one of the men says. I turn back to him, still preoccupied, biting my lip anxiously. He nods towards Benita, then looks back at me. “It would be wise for you to steer clear of Benita Gatti.”

A warning. A foreboding one.

“Is that a threat?” I'm taken aback. Did Benita send these men to intimidate me? How far was she willing to go to keep me away from her family? A family that was already falling apart.

My father places a hand on my arm and shakes his head firmly.

“These men are not our enemies,” he reassures me.

“Dante Accardi,” the man who spoke to me introduces himself. “Caleph Rojas.” He points to the other man.

I furrow my brow in confusion. The names sound familiar. “Aren’t you from New York?”

“Seattle,” he corrects me.

I nod, trying to clear my thoughts. “You guys are a long way from home.”

“We came to pay our respects; the Gatti brothers were close friends.”

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