Whispers in New York - Book Two

~Chapter 18~

Chapter Song

The Stroke - Billy Squier

(Fun fact... This song is about err... Self pleasure... =O oh my!)

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"You know..." Adriana grinned cheekily sitting back comfortably on Salvatore's couch. "There was no need to send Stefano with Luca tonight."
She had been dying through dinner to bring it up but didn't want to ruin their first proper date together since returning to New York City.
She was surprised at how perfectly the date had gone. It was drama free and without any business interruptions. It was clear he was putting in the effort the moment he had fished out his cell before they were seated and placed it on silent.

Now they sat comfortably on his couch, almost like a normal couple. Well, a normal couple surrounded by expensive things and breathtaking views of the city night lights.

"If you're going to make me reinstate Luca it'll be on my terms." He loosened his tie eventually bringing the loop up and over his head discarding the black silk. He smiled when he heard her giggle then muffling the sound by biting her lip.
The sound was music to his ears. The way she sat cross legged on the couch, a pillow in her lap while she subconsciously twirled a few strands of her hair between her fingertips. She looked innocent, relaxed even happy. All things he never thought he'd have. Not with her. Not with anybody.

Salvatore had foreseen many things in his life throughout the years. His father had taught him from a young age the importance of hard work within the family business. He had taught him how to do business, fight and survive.
While his brothers fell into a semi normal life of attending school, socializing and eventually dating, Salvatore was learning to fire weapons and without realizing it, becoming a soldier.

His father Domenico had seen something in him; he was different to his younger sons. Salvatore had witnessed death at a young age and barely flinched.
He had mistakenly seen the act of his own father taking the life of a man during a family wedding.
Once his father had noticed his son he had demanded everybody leave the room so it was just him, his son and the lifeless body of a long time family friend.

That was the first time Salvatore had seen a dead body and he knew that very same night that it would not be the last.

Seeing and being part of his first cleanup process, were very different stories though. Nothing could prepare him at the tender age of thirteen for cleaning up a body which had been shot point blank in the skull.
The first reminiscences of brain matter scattered across the tile floors forced acidic bile to rise to the back of his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach for the next half hour into the toilet bowl.
His father demanding the rest of his soldiers sit it out and wait for his son to pull himself together.

The first cleanup was always the hardest, especially when the victim was the father of someone Salvatore attended school with.

"Perché papà?" (Why dad?) He had sobbed covering his face with his hands as he alternated between sobbing and emptying his stomach over and over again close to tearing away at his lining at how violently he was sick.

"Figlio mio," (My son) Domenico had stated in the most compassionate way he could muster. "Quest'uomo aveva debito da pagare." (This man had debt to pay) He began to explain.
"Ha venduto la verginità di sua figlia come un pezzo di immobiliare!" (He sold the virginity of his daughter like a piece of real estate!)

He remembered his father's strange explanation that night of the type of people which existed in the world.

"There are only two types of people in this world." He had begun as he held him close. "Bad and evil. We commit bad acts my son, but we commit them to rid the streets of evil..."