The Valentini Mansion Prepares
The Valentini estate was chaos being packaged by silk and and stone. There was no rest today as the maids ran up and down of the marble stairs like they were preparing for a coronation.
The florist cursed in Italian language each time a banquet was toppled over, while the chefs in the kitchen shouted orders like it was a war instead of a "wedding".
Don Alessandro never needed to lift a finger, he believed he had 'more than enough' hands to do the job, and if any of the 'hands' mistakenly got rotten, he would personally cut it off. He stood at the storm of the chaos while his cigar was burning into a thick pile of ash as his golden yellow teeth gnashed the bite of smoke.
"Faster," Alessandro barked at a maid who was trembling, "Or I'll just have you married to a grave by tomorrow."
The Callus sisters were flocked by seamstresses as their fragile bodies was being wrapped in lace and satin. Brittany held still like porcelain, Belle shivered at every tug of a corset string, and Bianca rolled her eyes, muttering, "If Matteo rips this dress, I'll kill him myself."
Their mother, who was so excited for her daughters and did not want anything to ruin the moment hissed at her immediately. "Shut up your mouth, you stupid child, because tomorrow if you don't smile, we might not walk out of the church alive."
Arrival of the Associates
By evening, the first black sedans had already rolled up. The Valentini allies each files in, each one kissing Don Alessandro's ring with a.... bow of 'respect'
First, was Vincenzo "Il Ragioniere" Romano, the lord of the docks, he was also a smuggler of anything carrying a price tag. He had fat fingers, wore jeweled watch a had eyes like a rat sniffing out cheese.
Second, was Marco De Luca, the construction king. Every building in New Verona had his fingerprints. He had slick hair but also slicker lies.
Third, was Gianni Moretti, he was the narcotics boss. Always twitching, forever sniffing like he sampled too much of his own product.
Last but not the least of the men that evening was Salvatore Greco, nightclub owner, half-pimp, half-showman, literary dressed like Vegas exploded on his body.
Each man kissed Alessandro's cheek, their voices dripping like a mi of fear, uncertainty, and punctured but forced loyalty.
Everyone knew the punishment for going against Don Alessandro, especially in his own home, he could kill them before they took another breath or even take another heartbeat.
Vincenzo was already trying to get on Alessandro's good side, so that at least he would walk out the mansion.....alive. "To the Valentinis," he toasted, raising his glass, "May tomorrow bind us tighter than blood."
But Alessandro simply smirked as smoke curled from his nostrils. "Blood washes off Cenzo, but marriage.... it never washes off."
Laughter. Nervous. The kind of laughter men made when they weren't sure if they'd live through the week.
The Bachelor's Night
Later, the brothers were..... unleashed.
The Valentini brothers had left the mansion and headed over to a private club, downtown New Verona for their bachelor's night. It was chaos clothed in human skin.
In the club was red velvet booths, chandeliers dripping crystal and the strippers were moving like predators in heels. In the club, cigar, whiskey, cocaine lines were cut with credit cards while the guns were tossed on tables like coasters.
Luciano threw back a shot, then slammed it down. "To Marriage," he said then paused and sneered "Or what's left of our freedom."
Matteo simply barked a laugh as he yanked a dancer unto his lap. "Marriage? Please. Who would believe Matteo Valentini would even get married?" he asked looking at the dancer who sat on his lap blushing.
The room erupted in filthy laughter.
"I can't believe, I Luciano would one day play 'husband'" he said wanting to take another shot.
"Why'd you say that?" Matteo and his cousins asked. "Think of it, just last night I was balls deep in a Croatian stripper and now, I'll be forced to accept vows I'm not sure I'll even keep, ha! It's hilarious."
"Damn right," Matteo smirked, his hands roaming where they shouldn't.
Dante sat back, quiet, cigarette glowing between his lips. A stripper tried to grind on him, but he only muttered coldly, "Marriage is irrelevant. It's war in a bed. Deal with it."
"That's our Dante, as romantic as a fucking coffin" Luciano cackled, smacking the table.
Their cousins joined in the conversation.
"I bet Matteo's gonna fuck his bride before the priest says amen." Enzo Valentini said, he was the sharp-tongued gambler.
"I bet Luciano doesn't last five minutes before Belle's bored of his cock jokes." Rocco added, he was the scarred 'enforcer'.
"I bet Dante never fucks her at all all he'll do is just glare till she cries." Adrien ended things there, he was the youngest and he was already drunk.
The room howled once more. Matteo who was already getting drunk, threw ice at Rocco. Luciano poured whiskey down a stripper's cleavage and licked it off to prove a point to both his brothers and cousins.
Dante just ignored them, he always did, but his silence was far more dangerous than the chaos.
As if things could not get any tastier, a stripper who had fire-red hair slid unto Matteo's lap, then whispered into his ear "I'll make you forget your bride, little Bianca."
"Sweetheart, she's already forgotten." he replied grinning like a wolf.
Luciano on the other hand, got pulled by another stripper unto the floor. She grinded against him while he shouted.
"Fuck! Someone get me a ring this instant, I'll marry this one instead."
Even as cold as Dante was, he wasn't spared either. A dark-haired dancer climbed his chair brushing his jawline with her lips. Dante exhaled "If you want me hard, talk about power, not love" he said flatly.
"You bet I will" she replied straddling him against his chair. "Even if you do, you can't tame me in bed" he replied trying to fake a smile.
"Then let's go to the VIP room, its empty right now, I bet I'll show you and your little buddy who's boss" she whispered.
Dante chuckled slightly and whispered back "I would have loved to honey, but I want you to walk out this club with your legs together". Immediately, her eyed widened, she wasn't expecting it, not that way.
The room broke into another howl.
The Sisters' Banquet
Meanwhile, across the estate, the brides-to-be held their own banquet, but it was not as chaotic as their soon-to-be-husbands.
The hall was quieter now, elegant and polished. But under it all, was fear.
"Tomorrow, we secure the Valentini name." Brittany held her glass high, her voice steady and bold.
"Or tomorrow, we're devoured by it, better still, maybe it's gonna be our last day on Earth, say your prayers girls." Belle whispered.
"I don't give a fuck. Matteo's mine. He'll either bow or break. Doesn't matter which." Bianca snorted, tossing her wine back.
Then, with venom, she smirked:"If Matteo doesn't touch me by dawn, maybe his brother will. A Valentini's a Valentini, right?"
Their laughter was nervous, thin. Gilded birds in a golden cage.
Back to Alessandro
The banquet stretched late into the night. Deals were whispered while glasses clinked. Some partners pledged loyalty, others eyed the Valentinis with suspicion.
Suddenly, a maid came rushing in while trembling and pale.
"D-D-Don Alessandro..." she stammered, "Mr. Romano requests a private word. He says its urgent."
Alessandro quietly crushed his cigar into the ashtray, eyes narrowing. "Tell Vincenzo he waits. Nobody pulls me out of my own banquet, Even God knocks before He enters my house.""
"Yes, Don," then bowed and next minute, she vanished.
The room fell silent. Partners shifted in their chairs. Tension hung thick as cigar smoke.
The Uninvited Guest
Outside the Valentini Mansion, across the street from the mansion, a figure stayed far too long in the shadows who was hidden beneath the hood of light. A cigarette glowed then died.
He lifted a burner phone to his lips.
"They're having a wedding tomorrow, boss."
Then a pause.
"A wedding huh? Let's see what tape plays tomorrow" the voice replied, low and cold.
The figure smirked, exhaled smoke, and disappeared into the dark.