Page 32 of Memento Mori
“I need you too.”
Tapping on the door elicited groans from everyone in the room.
“I told you so,” Chantal said, then taking a sip of the wine she’d been nursing since we all escaped to my father’s private office upstairs. My study now. According to Daniel she was only allowed to have one glass since she was still breastfeeding.
“Come in!” I called out.
Franco’s eyes darted around the room as soon as he walked in. He wiped his palms down his dress slacks.
“Yes, Franco?”
“Sorry for the interruption Don, but the Donna would like you to come downstairs.”
Aaliyah tensed up, and she had every right to do so. My mother was no longer Donna of the family. That would be Aaliyah. Ever since my father passed away, the soldiers have been constantly needing correction on something that shouldn’t require any correction. Both me and Aaliyah were getting tired of the bullshit.
“Well, Franco it’s kind of funny that the Donna is requesting my presence downstairs when she’s sitting right here in my lap.”
My tone made him flinch, and his eyes moved from Aaliyah to mine.
“Sorry, boss, but...”
“Is my mother insisting that everyone call her Donna instead of my wife?” I asked cutting off whatever he wanted to say.
He paused, struggling to confirm what I already expected. His eyes revealed the internal battle of answering honestly or dealing with my mother’s fury. I tapped Aaliyah on the thigh. When she rose, I walked in front of Franco invading his space.
“Franco, who am I?”
He furrowed his brow in puzzlement.
“You’re Don Rizzo,” he said without hesitation. “The bosses of bosses.”
“That’s right, I am all those things. And do you answer to me or my mother?”
“You,” he said.
“You’re right again, Franco. So, I suggest you answer my fucking question,” I said as I calmly could. “Is my mother having everyone refer to her as Donna?”
He lowered his head. “Yes, Don.”
“And what did she say?”
“Boss, I don’t want to snitch.”
“I’m not asking what the fuck you want Franco! I want to know what she said about not addressing my wife as Donna.”
He let out a sigh. “She said not to refer to the black bitch as Donna,” he mumbled like a child would do when they knew they would anger their parents with the answer they were about to give.
Rage consumed me as I balled my fists, resisting the urge to strangle Franco. He wasn’t the issue. My mother was.
“No offense,” he stammered when he saw my expression.
“What else?” I questioned while gritting my teeth. “What else did she say Franco!”
“She said... she said she would never be the Donna of this family if she had anything to say about it, and if we disobeyed her, our families would pay the price.”
I gave Franco a nod and affectionately patted his cheek. He released a sigh, his shoulders sagging in relief. He was young. Maybe nineteen or twenty. He grew up in the life and I didn’t fault him for doing as my mother demanded. He was groomed to follow the orders of the Rizzo’s, but now things would change in this family no matter what my mother said. I was the head, not her. No matter how much she wanted to be.
“Aaliyah is your Donna, Franco. No harm will come to you or your family, I promise. As a reward for the truth come to metomorrow and we will discuss your future in the organization. I’ve got a job for you.”
