Page 1 of Memento Mori
Prologue
The Commission, Stavanger Norway
Don Antonio Rizzo Sr.
Thirty-two years ago...
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming all this way. I’ve called this urgent meeting today, to decide the fate of Capo Grasso, head of the Nusco Clan of the Camorra.” I leaned back in my chair, steepling my hands as I took my seat at the head of the conference room table. “Grasso is a ratto. He’s turned on all of us.”
“Ye of all people should have known this wouldn’t work, Antonio,” Ciabhan O’Brion, head of the Irish Mob growled, his Irish accent thickened with agitation. “We are all powerful men in our own right. All of us are greedy for more power than the next man.”
“You’re right, Ciabhan,” I responded. “But what you fail to see is as a unit, above all others, we are more powerful together than separate. We decide the future and the world is there for the taking, but only if we do it together.”
Ciabhan nodded, but his face displayed a hint of uncertainty. Doubt settled on their faces like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over their expressions. As the new leader of the RizzoFamiglia, I was determined to forge my own path, separate from my father, Salvatore Rizzo. I wanted the most powerful men in the criminal underworld to come together and create a commission, a united force that would govern over everyone. The concept I discussed countless times with my brother, Agostino, myConsigliere, even before I assumed the role of Don. He couldn’t see my vision. No one could really, but if I could rally the men at this table to agree to form a council, it would greatly benefit all of us.
Only if we kept our egos in check.
Unfortunately, Grasso’s inability to do so had a negative impact on all of us. As Ciabhan pointed out, there was a collective hunger for power among us. However, Grasso, with the power he possessed, ultimately betrayed us all. He plotted to take over the council, ensuring that the power would be consolidated under the control of one organization–the Camorra. Of course, that wouldn’t happen. None of the men in this room would allow it, including me. Could he be replaced? He could. However, the men at this table would never agree to come together again. It was a one-shot deal and now it was over. Despite the end, we still had a job to do.
Decide the fate of Grasso.
“It’s time to cast your votes, gentlemen,” I said. “To take out a boss we do it as one. We do it as one so no war will wage between our organizations.”
The men nodded in agreement, their expressions serious. My attention was fixated on the leader of the Irish Mob, the mastermind behind their operations. “Ciabhan, what say you?”
“Death,” he replied, drumming his fingers on the oak table.
My attention shifted to Haru Yamada, the formidable leader of the Sato Clan in the Yakuza. “Haru, what say you?”
“Death,” he responded, his voice low and his hands forming a steeple as he leaned back in his chair.
“And Sergey Kozlov, what say you?” I asked the Pakhan of the Bratva.
“Death,” he replied, his voice filled with a chilling certainty.
“And I, Antonio Rizzo, Don of the Rizzo Famiglia and Boss of Bosses vote death. With all in agreement, the death of Santino Grasso, Capo of the Nusco Clan of the Camorra has been sanctioned.” I stood. “Gentlemen it has been a pleasure doing business with all of you these past few years. I wish things could be different. Today the Commission is hereby disbanded. We will speak of it no more.”
Once everyone agreed to disband, shook hands, and departed, I remained in my chair, captivated by the breathtaking view of snow-capped peaks in the distance through the floor-to-ceiling window. As Agostino entered the conference room, the sound of his footsteps echoed across the room.
“It was for the best, Tony,” Agostino said. “Too many egos could not sustain what you wanted to achieve.”
Watching the snowflakes fall faster and heavier, I leaned my head against my chin, taking in the serene beauty of the moment. “We are the most powerful men in the world. We could do so much more together than being at war with one another all the time. I had to try.”
“I understand,” Agostino said. “Maybe things will change in the future. Maybe your children and theirs can come together to achieve what their fathers could not.”
“Maybe.” Agostino clapped me on the back when I stood and straightened my suit blazer. “Business is concluded, brother,” I said. “Let’s head back home.”
Chapter One
Let’s See What a Little Persuasion Can Do
Antonio Rizzo Jr.
Alessandro leaned against the wall of my private elevator, twirling a set of keys around his finger with a mischievous grin. With his tousled midnight hair, eyes that gleamed with mischief, and the familiar smirk that had been plastered on his face since childhood, we silently ascended to the top floor of my company,Sleek Contractors & Luxury Home Designs.
I poured my blood, sweat and tears into building my company from the ground up— separate from the Famiglia. Sleek Contractors & Luxury Home Designs was something I wanted to pass down as my legacy to my children, not the one of power, money and murder I’d inherit from my father when he passed away or stepped aside as Don of the Rizzo Famiglia.
Alessandro’s laid-back demeanor infuriated me to my core. Since we were children, he’d always had the ability to detachhimself from his surroundings, while I’ve never had that luxury. I have never been jealous of my little brother, but in this instance, envy consumed me. He had no care in the world while mine crashed down around me.
