La Famiglia Read Free

one of the Five Dons of Sicily or their progeny. Thus, Armando had to commission it. After paying his allowance as bounty to Armando, the smug bastard agreed. However, a single favor to be asked at any time for this privilege was now expected of Giovanni.
    He cut his eyes over to Armando. He understood the full cost of this sacred piece. And then he remembered the little boy who needed it so desperately. He lowered the medallion on the cloth and nodded. “Mille grazie—thank you very much. It’s what I wanted. I’ll take it, Del Stavio,” Giovanni said.
    “Prego! Before I let you accept this, you must tell me if you understand the meaning,” the old jeweler chuckled.
    Giovanni nodded. “Of course. St. William was orphaned as a child and raised by strangers who became family, who taught him how to survive.”
    “And?” Del Stavio asked. His eyes sparkled under an arched bushy brow.
    Armando cut in. He smirked at Giovanni sharing the rest of the tale. “At fifteen St. William decided to dedicate his life to God. He built a monastery on Mount Vergine and performed many miracles. He had only a wolf and staff as his protection. With the hand God dealt him he became stronger, became a man of worth, and a helper to those who needed him. Like little orphan boys with a murdered mommy and daddy.”
    Del Stavio’s smile dimmed, but brightened as he tried to make light of what Armando insinuated. “Basta. It is yours, Gio. Take it.”
    “Grazie, Del Stavio,” Giovanni said. “Tanto grazie.”
    Del Stavio waved off the payment offered to him by Armando. “I know of the boy you will give this to. Go with God’s blessing. I hope it brings la piccoletto peace.”
    It was of no surprise to Giovanni that many had heard of Dominic. Tomosino was questioned by the local officials the day after he took the abused boy into his home. All Giovanni and Lorenzo were able to discern was that Dominic’s father was dead. Murdered. They heard their mothers whisper that Dominic’s madre was a poor village girl who spent a tortured existence at the hands of her husband, until her death shortly after giving birth to the little boy. Dominic had been an instrument of abuse from the day he entered the world. But the kid was strong, alive, and now his brother. He would take care of him.
    “Grazie!” Giovanni accepted the wrapped gift. “Grazie!”
    Once outside he dropped the package in the basket on his bike and climbed on.
    “Oooh Gioooo?” Armando sang.
    “Not now. I must get home.” Giovanni quipped.
    “Now,” Armando said, he stepped before Giovanni and blocked his escape. “The favor I want. I intend to collect next week. Meet me tomorrow after prayer behind the rectory to discuss the details.”
    “What is this favor?” Giovanni frowned.
    “Not a what—a who?” Armando grinned. The request pinched the last nerve Giovanni had on reserve for tolerance. He hated the smug superiority the cowardly young Mancini wielded from being Don Mancini’s son. But a deal was a deal.
    “I hear Tomosino killed that kid’s father you have hidden in Villa Mare Blu. I hear he made the boy watch too. Papa told me that our men had to find what was left of Micheli across the fields of his farm. Do you want to know why he did it? No? Because I assure you it wasn’t for any noble reason you may think.”
    In Giovanni’s heart he wanted to believe his father had rescued Dominic. That Patri was a hero. But he believed differently after hearing the whispers of the nuns today in school. Nothing Don Tomosino did was without self-reward.
    “Out of my way,” Giovanni said.
    Armando snickered. “Meet me tomorrow,” he yelled after him. “We have a deal!”
    Giovanni pedaled away, fast. He arrived home much later than he hoped. This time the bike ride took him over an hour and his legs felt as if they were made of jelly when he got off. As soon as he approached the front of the villa he could see Dominic grinning from the top window with his hands