Familial Tension

If any of you have watched any of the Godfather movies (or books which I haven't read yet), you'll probably say you see certain similarities between this and that story. The funny thing about this is I actually wrote about three quarters of it having not watched any of them. I struggled to find an ending and watched the first two in one weekend to help inspire the ending. Anyway hope you guys like it, and thanks for clicking on the story. We appreciate every single view - feel free to message if you want to discuss any of the stories or just to say you did or didn't like it.

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The grass was soft, softer than it had ever been. They both lay under the gleaming sun. They spent hours trying to find the perfect tree to lay under. In the end, they settled for the least muddy. She lay beside him, with her head resting on his chest. Her hand above his heart absorbing its rhythm. They lay there for hours, or so it felt to him. Perhaps it had been no time at all. The black-haired woman lying on his chest turned onto her front to look at him through her glasses. Her dark brown eyes accentuated by the sunlight. He stared at her as she smiled, he found himself smiling too. He eased the glasses off her face carefully as he leaned into kiss her. Her cheeks tinged with red as they often were. She hated when that happened whilst he couldn’t get enough of it. The problems of the world escaping his mind, dissipating away. Nothing mattered and why would it? He was happy. He felt her warmth as he watched her eyes close and, in an instant, everything disappeared. Darkness. The beautiful woman disappeared. The soft grass now turned to sand. Jess slipping away forever. Taken away in an instant. His eyes opened in terror, light entering his consciousness once again as he jerked out of his duvet. He muttered her name as he shot out of the duvet, frantically looking for her. All the problems of the world sharpening back into focus. His eyes scanned the room. It took him a moment to realise where he was. His mind shifting back to reality. His dreams took him back to being newlywed and happy. Now he was older, wiser but far more solemn. He often had these dreams and his thoughts quickly moved to his son as they normally did. Today was the big day. He walked over the chest of drawers to pick up the picture that lay there. “You should see Danny now, Jess. You’d be so proud”, holding the photo frame of his wife. It had been fourteen years since she had passed away. He gazed at the picture, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He brushed them aside as he left his bedroom. His time was coming to an end, it was Danny’s turn now. It was time for the beginning of a new criminal era.

He was to become ‘the boss’ through inheritance. A mobster through blood line. He was a good man but his father being who he was, meant he was tangled with all manner of nasty, murderous company. Danny Lupe Junior received an education, went to university and had worked hard for it. He was an engineer by trade and a clever one too. He loved tinkering with machines and already knew the career path he wanted to take, but his father only wanted him involved in one: crime. It was ‘his responsibility’ (in the words of Senior) and he despised his father for piling it on him. Few people knew of their differences in opinion. In the words of Danny’s father, your true intentions, and ideas of what you want your life to be, would bring tremendous shame to this family if it got out. He was a peaceful man. He despised conflict. ‘A violation against nature was how he tried to describe murder’ to his father. His father took no notice of his opinions. It had taken a lot for him to accept this side of the family business. Students usually worry about getting into the right line of work after they graduate, and Danny had found himself in the worse one of them all with no way out.

His father, Danny Lupe Senior, came across as fairly unspectacular in appearance. Neither too fat, nor too thin, regularly wearing a blazer with a casual shirt underneath. A very regular looking man, you could say but he was very sharp and often saw things most people would miss. It was why he had such an outstanding reputation and was respected so highly by many in the criminal community. He had a fantastic read on people, and often knew what you were going to say before you did. His ability to remain so elusive from the police never was a mystery to those close to him. Despite all his criminal achievements over the years, family still held the greatest importance to him. He was adamant his son would receive a complete education, interact with people, see the world. He called it ‘gaining perspective’, before taking over the criminal empire. Not everyone agreed with him and some members were not discreet whatsoever showing their distaste, but it made no difference. He was the king, the leader and so what anyone else thought was irrelevant. His son was smart. He saw it from such a young age. Of course, every parent thinks their child is the ‘smartest ever’, ‘the coolest’. Senior was too pragmatic to get too caught up in emotion, but the boy’s intelligence was clear. He loved his son, his legacy. The kid was smart, likeable, everything he prized in himself. There was only one difference between them. The one thing he had taken from his mother. The one thing he loved most about his son but also bothered him the most. More than the intelligence and personality, he was simply a good man.

Danny never met his mother but had heard plenty from his father. It was because of her, that his father wanted him to have a normal childhood and a proper education. Danny could tell his father missed her. Even as a child Danny felt that his father was never quite whole after her accident. Danny never saw his father smile for very long. His smile would often subside and retreat back into his usual frown. He hid his emotions well, but Danny could always sense it. He missed her. Danny barely remembered his mother, but he missed her too.

Even though Danny was an only child, his dad had many siblings, and as a result he had many cousins too. He was particularly close with one. Gianluca. But everyone called him Luca. He was the son of the youngest sibling from senior’s generation. As children they were best friends, inseparable, like brothers as they grew up. Thick as thieves, always causing trouble. As they grew, they did however begin to drift apart. Danny became focused on school, his education. Luca took more of an interest in the family business. Danny was smarter than his cousin, and his father knew it. Luca was rash, impulsive and as a result, he often found himself in situations he had no business being in. Danny was far more level headed and a much more appropriate successor. There were often debates about this because Luca was older than Danny and so it made sense, he would take the mantle after senior. As well as age, he also had the support of others in the family. Senior saw that Luca’s ambition had made him well liked, popular within family circles. At the same time, Danny had drifted away from the family. He knew the ins and outs of their livelihood - even things Luca did not. Things you could only learn from someone who was in charge and Senior had used his position to ensure Danny was better placed than anyone else in the family to take over.

A family barbeque had been planned to celebrate Danny’s inauguration into the family business. The weather was perfect. Everyone had flooded out of the great mansion which housed the entire family made up of three generations. Senior stood in his office, watching everyone gather outside, trying to visualise the next few years. He saw Danny and Luca together again. It brought a smile to his face. He was glad they were still friends despite the strain adulthood had brought to their relationship. You needed friends in this business. This train of thought then took him to his next question. Would his son take the mantle? Was a quiet retirement still an option? He was tired but not finished yet he felt. He sighed deeply furrowing his brow. He was getting too old for all this thinking. A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned around to greet the visitor. Instead he was greeted by the flash of a gun. The bullet entered his skull and he was dead instantly. His chair was directly behind him and he slumped into it, head leaned to one side. The life immediately drained from his eyes. It was time for a new criminal era. Whose era was still remained to be seen.