It’s Just Business

Thunder rolls from a nearby storm, as a young man paces in front of a stained glass window inside of a glamorous Italian bedroom. A wine glass, half full, aids him in his thinking as he ponders the day to come. He watches as rain floods the busy streets, and bounces gracefully off the umbrellas of people bold enough to travel in such weather. A man trips over a loose brick in the sidewalk, and is helped up by another soaked onlooker. Such charity, the man thinks, giving a complete stranger your time and effort, for free. The silken rug muffles his footsteps as he checks his clock once more. A quarter to 6, it’s almost time. Wiping away a bead of sweat, the young man takes a deep breath and goes over his speech once more to the now shaking window as the winds on the other side seek to embrace the interior of the room. Each time he rehearsed his lines, the worse he felt. How will he deliver such a message, knowing the recipient won’t be so open minded. No, he tells himself, they’ll listen, they have to. Feeling that he’s practiced enough, the man leaves the bedroom and heads down a long hall, layered with paintings depicting the Marino family, his family, through all the generations, each progressively wealthier than the last. As he walks, he can already hear the sounds of his family talking and laughing from the dining hall, as well as smell what he presumes to be his mother’s famous lasagna, cooked to perfection. He sighs as he descends a lavish staircase at the end of the hall leading into the dining room, knowing that he’s going to miss this place, despite the trauma he’s seen in these walls. Maybe he can come here again someday, and things will be better than they ever were before, but a part of him doubts that. 

“Johnny!” a friendly voice booms from the dining room, snapping the young man out of his thoughts as he enters the large dining room. The young man has heard this voice well enough to know it’s his own father, Mathias Marino. Mathias is a lean, muscular man, and if you didn’t know his age you would say he didn’t look a day over 40, while in reality he’s 55. He sits at the head of an enormous table, laden with a bowl of fresh fruits, steaming lasagna, delicious cannoli, and many more eye catching goodies. The rest of Johnny’s family sits around the table. His 3 older brothers are each digging in while his mother is already making him a plate. 

“Hey Dad,” the young man replies. “how’re you holding up?” 

“As good as I can be, you know we’ve really missed you since you went off to college, but more importantly you’ve missed out on some really important training.”

“Ah, about that.” Johnny says, taking a deep breath, “Dad, I won’t be continuing in my training, I quit.” 

As if entranced by a spell, the room falls silent. The crackling from the fireplace and the roaring storm are all that’s heard. Mathias seems unwavered by the comment.

“Might I ask why?” Mathias asks.

Johnny, seeing all heads turned to him, says, “I’ve been troubled by this all my life, wondering if what we do is right. I know now that nothing we could ever conceive can justify the wrong our family has carried out for generations. The Marino Mob is feared all across Italy, and innocent people shudder at the mention of our name. We harm, threaten, bully and murder anyone who apposes our rule. I will admit, I’m not clean from this sin. I have killed men before, and will gladly bare my cross for it in hopes to be forgiven some day. I can’t go on living like this knowing that in order for us to stay on top we push another man down. I have a wife now, a degree in business, and a future ahead of me. I can’t live like this anymore.”

As if he’s made of stone, Mathias casually leans back in his chair, sipping champagne from a long glass.

“Johnny, this is a lucrative business, and a powerful one. Don’t you want your future kids to grow up with the same benefits as you? Remember how no kids would pick on you in school, or teachers whip you? People would die to have the life you have. You call it immoral what we do, and you’d be right, but what happens to those who are morally right? They get stepped on, pushed around, and made the slaves of the world, but not us Johnny. We’re smart.”

“We’re not smart, we’re deranged!” Johnny exclaims. “Our family has sent several people to their graves over simple arguments. I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of this anymore. I’m moving to America, to pursue my ambitions and raise a family right.”

“So there really is no changing your mind” Mathias asks.

“No,” Johnny says “I’m afraid not. I hope we can still stay in touch, but I can’t be a part of this anymore. I’m sorry.”

Mathias chuckles as he lowers his glass of champagne. He waves his hand and four armed guards come out of seemingly thin air, guarding each exit from the dining room. 

“Oh Johnny, you’ve always been a brilliant young man, and probably would’ve raised a great family, but you have one fatal flaw. You trust people too easily. You think that a man who has done unspeakable evils would spare someone who knows so much about his deeds, just because he’s his own son?”

“What do you mean?” Johnny asked shakily.

“My dear boy,” Mathias says, “do you really think you’re leaving here alive? 

No one knows exactly what went on in the Marino house that night, but one thing’s for certain. Johnny Marino went missing that night, and the only things left in his name were a degree from some college, a grieving widow, and a family of mobsters that makes even the ground shake with fear.