Page 112 of Beautiful Desire

ARTURO

Age 16 – Sicily

Tomorrow’s the day.The day I’ve been dreading for the past two years. The day I have tried my hardest to get out of.

But I have come to realize the only way I’ll get out of it is through death, and if I don’t partake in the rituals, that’s what will happen.

As much as I would rather die than murder someone in cold blood to join la famiglia, I can’t leave Massimo and his mama behind. We made a pact two years ago after I told him what this day entailed for me, and I meant it.

Mass has been more of a brother to me the last couple of years than my own. After both Armando and Alessio’s initiations, things have never been the same between us. Armando is now Papa’s right-hand man, learning the ropes under his number two, and Alessio is no longer allowed to hang out with anyone who isn’t a part of the Cosa Nostra.

I’ve tried my best to fly under the radar and go unnoticed sincethat night. True to my word, I’ve saved every penny Papa has given me. The only good thing about being the son of the Don is the endless amount of wealth he has. I get a hefty allowance each month so we can look the part. Heavens forbid we don’t have the most expensive clothes or watches and actually blend in with other kids my age.

I knew I couldn’t save the whole amount for this reason. I needed to keep up appearances. I did, however, manage to successfully save two hundred forty thousand euros for us. Knowing that money couldn’t be anywhere near my house, brothers, father, or his men, I needed to find a safe place to hide it.

That is where I am right now: an old, overgrown winery that shut down many years ago. It’s close enough to my house that I can get to it by walking, but also in the middle of nowhere, so I don’t have to worry about someone stealing it.

The grapevines are so out of control I have to do acrobatic moves to get through them. After about ten minutes trekking my way through the vines, I finally see the marker for my hiding place: an oval rock I painted the same color blue as our eyes, sticking up slightly from the soil.

Using my hands, I dig the rock out and take the faux back off to reach the key inside. Setting the rock aside, I pocket the key and continue to disrupt the dirt to uncover the green metal container, the size of a shoebox. Grabbing the key from my pants, I place it in the lock that’s hanging from the middle and open it.

I check the contents inside to make sure no one has stolen anything. Thankfully, the money is all there, along with the new additions I added yesterday. Hearing footsteps behind me, I quickly close the lid and peer over my shoulder to see who could be there. Breathing a sigh of relief at seeing my best friend’s lanky body move through the vines, I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest, and wait for him.

We come here daily to check on it, but never together in case we’re being followed. We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves or this spot. Today, however, is different. I asked Mass to meet me here because it’sfinallytime.

When he finally reaches me, he looks around in confusion before his eyes land on me.

“Why are we both here? What is going on?” he asks me in English.

That was another rule of ours. Not only did we teach ourselves how to speak English, but if we need to talk to each other about anything important, or if we we’re ever here together, we always speak in English so no one knows what we’re saying.

“We are here because it istime, brother,” I tell him with a big smile on my face.

“What do you mean, it is time? Tomorrow is your birthday. We cannot leave now.”

“We must leave now for that very reason. I will not kill anyone tomorrow. I refuse to!” I shout at him. Taking a deep breath, I run my hand down my face before I tell him the news. “I got them.”

A perplexed look crosses over his face as he scrunches up his nose in confusion. “You got what?”

Stepping closer so we’re only a hair’s breadth away, I whisper, “The passports.”

“Passportas? What is this passportas?” Massimo asks me.

I try as hard as I can not to laugh at him butchering the word. Mass has a hard time saying certain English words, and I guess “passport” is another one to add to his list.

“No, pass-port.”

Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out the burgundy booklet with the gold letters on the front, holding it out in front of me to show him. Excitement runs through my body, and I do my best not to jump up and down at the thought that we’re finally getting out of here.

“Ah, passaporto! How?” he asks, both shocked and elated.

“Do not worry about that. This was the last thing we needed to leave. Now we go. Tell your mama that we leave tomorrow after dinner. Papa will not suspect a thing if I am still there for dinner. Armando and Alessio’s initiations started at ten at night. This will give us enough time to slip away and already be on a plane to America.”

Looking nervous now, he eyes me carefully for a couple of minutes. I thought he would be jumping up and down for joy at the fact that we’re finally getting out of this place, not look like he’s about to shit himself.

“Are you sure about this? If we get caught—”

I cut him off immediately, because that won’t happen.

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