8. A Father's Pain

Tristan walked down the stairs to the Lobby as he was lead towards the exit. He was contemplating what to do about what had just happened. His father was up there confronting his grandpa as O'Neil and Rosario guards had possessed the building taking prisoners. He had no idea what to expect from his father. All he knew was his father hadn't passed a verdict of death for the Giovanni men found to be on his grandfather's side when he had been meeting up with Pauli Rosario. That was a major sin in his father's eyes. Setting his son up to meet a man his father had no respect for was a big crime. What was he to do? Could he make it all worse if he attempted to go up there? He wondered if anything could get any worse than it already was. As he exited the building he watched men talking on the radio communicating. He then watched as in the middle of the mayhem his mother showed up with his uncle Sergio. They had brought body guards but were not there to fight.

Tristan was shocked to see his mother get off the car and run to him. She embraced him in a tight hug " Thank the lord you are safe." He had never heard his mother sound so concerned. She was genuinely worried about him.

Tristan whispered " Why wouldn't I be safe mother?"

His uncle Sergio interrupted " Sancia. There is no time for this. Follow me."

Sancia pulled away displeased with her brother ordering her around. She shouted to Sergio who was walking towards the entrance " My son matters more than anything Sergio. I am not coming up there unless you acknowledge that."

Sergio sighed and stopped in his tracked. He turned around. He walked back to his sister and whispered so the guards couldn't hear what he said " Your husband will order all his Irish people to wipe us all out. You may wake up tomorrow and there would be no Giovannis left. Are you prepared for that? Your son is obviously fine. I can't strike a deal without you. I acknowledge that. Are you happy?"

Sancia rolled her eyes " Not really. Father dug his own grave. He will be under house arrest until it all blows over."

Sergio whispered back " That's if you get up there on time. Sancia. Hurry up."

Sancia looked up to Sergio " Like I said. He dug his own grave. Even I can't change my husband's mind if he wishes  for death of our family." But she didn't protest and argue further as she side stepped Sergio who followed her to the entrance.

Tristan was confused by his mother's actions. She hid her feelings well. He knew his mother loved her family. Yet she didn't show weakness in front of anyone. Not even her own brother. She must have been worried about his grandpa Giovanni but she had learnt to keep it all. He knew that only his father could see the side of his mother that no one else was allowed to see. Her soft side.

Tristan decided he wanted to risk going up there. He wasn't happy with the idea of so much trouble being created because of him. It was about him. If he hadn't met Paulo Rosario, none of this would have happened. He wondered how badly his parents' marriage was going to be affected by this issue.

As Tristan was plotting to run inside, he saw guards poring out. His father was first to come out. His stone cold eyes warned people to part ways for him. Tristan even didn't dare move or say anything as he was greeted with his father's business like stone faced he never wanted to mess with. No one wanted to mess with his father at that point indeed.

Tristan found himself face to face with his father who looked into his eyes and demanded "Did he raise his hand on you son?"

Tristan jumped at his tone but knew what he meant. He also knew not to keep his father waiting " No he didn't."

Emanuelle nodded " You will be riding with me tonight." Without any other word he opened the car door and gestured to Tristan " Get in."

Tristan shook his head "What about mother?"

Emanuelle gave his son a deadly look " She will deal with your grandfather. Then she would come home. She made a deal with me. It's not something I am proud to have done son. I am regretting it already. Get inside now or I might go back inside making my deal void with your mother."

Tristan didn't hesitate and quickly got in. His father's warning tone meant one thing. His uncle Sergio was right about him wanting to wipe out all Giovannis. He could see it in his father's eyes. They had endangered his flesh and blood. It meant he wanted to spill blood to punish anyone connected to the guilty party.

As Tristan sat down, he felt relieved to see his father got in. He was only thinking about his mother. If his father went back inside his uncle Sergio and his grandpa could be dead. That meant war between Giovannis and O'Neils alongside their many allies. Where did that leave him? His mother would have been broken to pieces from grief. He cared for his mother more than anyone.

Emanuelle ordered the driver " Drive around town and kill some time."

Tristan was looking at his father curiously. What was he planning. Minutes passed in silence and Tristan didn't question his father. He didn't dare. His father opened the fridge in the car and pulled out a bottle of Irish cream whiskey. He drank in silence as his son watched him in silence.

It was Emanuelle who broke the silence first. He looked at his watch as his demanding voice boomed " Francesco must be home by now. Drive us to the Rosario mansion."

Tristan was surprised " We are going to the Rosario mansion? Isn't it abit late father?"

Emanuelle sighed " Son. We are going to the Rosario mansion because it is abit late. Of course. This way I don't cause any concerns for the lady of the house that something is wrong since she would be in bed."

Tristan understood. It was all serious. How long could this issue go on for? It sounded like no other issue that his father had to resolve before. Francesco Rosario's father had connections. Sicilian connections. Dealing with his presence was not an ordinary matter. This had to be dealt with by Francesco Rosario's direct input and his father's.

As they reached the Rosario mansion, Emanuelle instructed Tristan " You see, Vincenzo seems to be playing outside. Go keep him company. I have a meeting where I can't take you with me. If Francesco wishes it, then I would call you and Vincenzo up."

Tristan nodded " Yes father." He then got off the car following his father. But Tristan felt conscious that he could be watched. Francesco Rosario was always watching. He glanced up and saw the only room that was lit up. Francesco Rosario was at the window watching.

Francesco watched his number one ally walk inside the building. His eyes also followed Tristan as he walked to Vincenzo who was playing on the basketball court that was lit up with blue lights.

Francesco smiled sadly. His son reminded him of himself. Francesco used to shoot hoops alone when he had so much on his mind. Vincenzo played basketball with himself when he had so much on his mind too even late at night. Francesco made allowances and didn't force him to go to bed right now. It was best that he got it out of his system this way. Francesco was not happy for his son to be dragged into this nightmare that he preferred to face alone. He was relieved the whole house were sleeping and he wished Vincenzo was also asleep. Everyone in the household could sleep and not know of the dangers as long as he did know about it.

Francesco had to think of a fast and effective solution to save his eldest son. His son was in danger.

Francesco ran his hands in his hair thinking of how the outside was dark but not as dark as his world that he was facing right now. The real darkness had be fallen his life now that the man he hated so much had come to claim his first born heir. The one thing he feared the most in life had happened hours ago. This was unreal. How could he be so careless? How could he allow one of the most dangerous threats to his family come this close? He blamed himself and only himself. He shouldn't have left his children alone but it was his way of teaching them independence. He wasn't going to be with his children everywhere. That was not how life worked. He couldn't protect them every second of the day even though he badly wanted to believe it himself. He had tried hard to protect them from every danger possible. He had put precautions in place. Plan A, Plan B and much more. But of course the darkness always won in life. That was the rule of the game of life. No matter how hard he wanted to bring light into his life, darkness took over. Light was only temporary. He had read enough history books to know, peace never conquered all long enough for a generation to enjoy its benefits. The darkness fell and ripped away the peace like it never existed.

Part of him knew his father was going to come for Vincenzo with all he had. He knew it was a matter of time. He wished he had killed the man. He wished he had the strength to kill his father. This was the tragedy. He was willing to kill his father on that rooftop to save his son from ever having to encounter the man he despised so much. But of course his son had an attachment to his father. He wasn't going to be the one to make his son mourn his blood.

Francesco felt pain suddenly in his heart. The pain was real. His heart sank as he watched his son. It was as though he was looking at the mirror. His son resembled him a lot. His posture. The way he didn't speak much but conveyed a lot with his stare and of course his stubborn nature. He was his son. He knew Vincenzo enough to let it sink in for him that his son was not going to give up if his intention was to get to know his grandfather. He saw in his eyes how he cared for him.

Francesco took a deep breath. He was frustrated. There were too many of them. His uncle piero, his father Paulo, his grandfather and now even his uncle Pietro. They wanted Vincenzo in Sicily. They said it was his birthright. They had warned they were coming for him soon. Even if his father was dead, they were going to come for him. He didn't want his son to go to Sicily. Not now. He was not ready to make that choice. He didn't want his son to go at all but he couldn't deny he had the right to choose. His son was only months away from turning eighteen. Time was running out. It didn't help that the don was so unwell and all families who worked under him or were allies with Rosario's were impatiently waiting for Vincenzo. They didn't accept Vitale as the ultimate leader. He was second in command or a replacement to take over from his father pietro. But they wanted Vincenzo to be the sole leading heir. They wanted his son to rule.

He shook his head and walked to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a vodka bottle. He didn't bother pouring it into any glass. He drank from the bottle as he rushed to the window to watch his son as thought sensing that watching his son acting like a teenager was a privilege that was going to be rare. It hurt him to stand there watch his son live in peace knowing how the don and his men were not going to stop sending men until Vincenzo was taken to the don. The thought pained him to no end. The powers beyond his in Sicily had decided for the next heir to his grandfather's place to be don Vincenzo. Why his son? Why not Vitale? It was all because of the honour his son had shown.

Francesco took a sip from his vodka as he thought of how numerous times Vincenzo even had made the enemy respect him. The don had noticed it. He had heard reports. His people had. His son was unstoppable right now in how he made lasting impressions wherever he went. He had a gift. He was meant to be a leader. A Don. A Sicilian powerful Don.