The drizzle is light, yet it seems everlasting on this gloomy summer noon over St. Paul's Cemetery.
A funeral is ongoing, the Vicar is conducting the last rites of Vince Donatelli, the second son of the city's infamous Donatelli family.
He was also the younger brother of Victor Donatelli, the current head of the family. "May God bless his soul and welcome him at the doors of heaven with open arms.
To the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the vicar completed his duty. "Amen," said all the fifty-one odd present, they mouthed in unison.
One by one, people, clad in black fabric, unhanded the red roses they were carrying over Vince Donatelli.
Vince was unmarried and didn't have any children that the family knew of. Victor Donatelli, Patricia, his wife, and his two daughters, Valentina, the younger, and Victoria, the older, were beside the enormous gravestone, engraved Vince Donatelli, meeting the eyes of sympathetic guests and accepting their condolences.
Victoria is looking red, her cheeks flushed, remnants of the dried tears all over. She has used up both her tear ducts to the point that they have stopped producing more.
Uncle Vinny was strong, but he was ambushed without warning by those Baldwin curs. Uncle killed a dozen of them before he was shot by those savages, coming in hundreds just to kill a single man, cowards!... Victoria's chain of thought broke as she felt a questioning gaze on her; it was Victor, her father. This whirlwind of a situation didn't let her have a conversation with her father regarding the aftermath of Uncle Vinny's murder and retaliation.
When the Cemetery was cleared of people, albeit a few close and loyal ones, Victor called for his eldest daughter to talk in seclusion.
"Victoria, I hope you don't blame yourself for this."
"We are all to blame."
Victor's eyes met his progeny's; they had concern in them, but there was also a pinch of something close to disappointment.
"Father, I have been telling you all this time...we have a rat in our ranks, somebody high up," sneered Victoria, her eyes were welling up again.
"I triple checked all the security myself, and the route that Uncle took was only known to a few...and those few lie beside him now."
"It cannot be...this is unacceptable."
Victoria felt her legs were giving out, and her body was shivering with anger and pain at the same time.
"Calm down, don't get so worked up now, we have an important meeting tonight, I want you there."
Victor sternly took out his custom-made cigarette case, studded with sparkling red rubies, which made the eyes of a wild-looking, masterfully hand-carved jackal on the metal.
He took one out from a bunch of white paper-wrapped 'Dona' premium blend tobacco cigarettes, a homegrown brand, only a golden halo with a miniature jackal logo separating the stem from the filter.
Victor took out a vintage Zippo, a family heirloom passed down by the legendary Founder of the Donatelli Family, the ruthless Verenzio Donatelli himself.
The Zippo reeked of gasoline and multiple restorations. With a swift, practiced movement, Victor lighted his 'Dona', took a quick whiff, then a deep drag.
"Leave for the house now, take Valentina and your mother with you, and rest. Victoria, be ready by 6 o'clock, and remember, now, I need you..."
Victor let out a gallon of smoke. Victoria, who was on the verge of sobbing, came back to her senses upon hearing her father.
He has never needed anyone ever; he is the Lion of the Donatelli Dynasty, and is even compared to the first patriarch...Verenzio...Victoria nodded and left, reeking of premium tobacco. She always found comfort in the smell of this tobacco, the 'Dona', though she hates smoke. Victor waited until she left, then he wiped his brimming eyes. Something must have gone in my eyes...he thought.
The treasured Grandfather Clock in the massive Donatelli mansion shook vigorously at 6 o'clock, reminding of the Sun setting today without the 'White Wolf ' of the valiant Donatelli clan.
Victoria was finishing up her final touch-ups when a maid arrived. "Master is waiting in the grand hall for you", the maid left hurriedly.
Father is just as impatient as I...Victoria smiled unknowingly.
Once father calls off this bullshit truce, I will lop off the heads of those Baldwin bastards with my own hands, especially of Luke Baldwin, that little fucker, how dare he!...
Victoria was vexed by the fact that she was not able to avenge her uncle before a truce by the two families was called.
Countless have died over the turf war to gain control of the City by the Donatellis and the Baldwins.
She knows well that in this trade, even an inch of land means millions, and the only rule is blood for blood...sangue per sangue.
The main hall is at the center of this humongous abode, two sets of connected stairs merged to become one as Victoria, in her blood red gown, flaunting her ample and voluptuous figure, slowly descended the stairs.
She, engrossed in her gilded phone, waiting for updates, now stood over a giant 'Flaming Jackal', the Donatelli family emblem, sketched smack dab in the center of the hall. Victoria saw certain people adorning the giant sofas; she saw three people sitting opposite her father, her mother, and her sister, sharing tea, nibbles, and occasional chuckles.
Who are these jackasses now?...
Victoria thought it was odd that no one, not even the maids, were present here, just these random people and her family were all.
A cold sweat ran down her spine as she inched closer to the lush sofas, and by the time she stood in front of the guests, her body had already started pumping adrenaline over time, heating up, her eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, when Victor spoke...
"Victoria, come, meet the Baldwins. Here is Mr.Levi Baldwin, the current patriarch of the great family, his beautiful wife, Mrs.Martha Baldwin, and his son, the future partriarch of the family, the famous 'Ironblooded' Luke Baldwin.
Victoria didn't notice the warmth in the smiles of the Baldwins.