《Death's Promise: A Novella》 Chapter 1: Denial On the night his life ended, Giovanni Medina made a bargain with Death. Although he couldn¡¯t explain it, he felt it coming. Every day it was a little harder to wake up, his breath shorter and more labored. At seventy-three years old, Giovanni had lived a long, full, storied life, but he could¡¯ve lived for another hundred years and it still wouldn¡¯t have been enough. In the final week, the patriarch of the infamous Medina family wandered the vast family estate, lost in thought. Whenever he¡¯d come across one of his children or grandchildren, he¡¯d study them pensively. On his dying day, he spotted his youngest grandchild Stefania hidden behind a topiary animal and watching her brother and cousins¡¯ fencing lessons. ¡°Your papa would be angry if he knew you were out here again,¡± he whispered, making the eight year old jump in place. ¡°Nonno! You surprised me,¡± Stefania hissed. She had the same pure black hair, dark eyes, and olive complexion as her mother and grandmother. Giovanni¡¯s heart swelled upon seeing her features drawn up in a familiar severe, accusatory frown. Only a handful of his grandchildren didn¡¯t fear him, and she was one of his favorites. ¡°Do you think your papa would be surprised to find you here? Where are you supposed to be right now?¡± Giovanni stood beside the plant, watching his grandchildren Antonio and Marius trading swift blows with training swords. Stefania crossed her arms over her chest. ¡°Dancing,¡± she spat. ¡°But you like dancing,¡± Giovanni pointed out. ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t need lessons, Nonno. I¡¯m already a good dancer.¡± She turned from him and peeked out from behind the topiary lynx. Her cousins moved around the sand arena gracefully. ¡°You know,¡± he said, bending over to whisper in her ear, ¡°what they¡¯re doing isn¡¯t too far off of dancing. Look at how they move together. Can you hear the music, my little terror?¡± Stefania said nothing, and that¡¯s how he knew he had her attention. He put his hand on his knees as his back screamed at him for bending over. Blood rushed in his head, and the world blurred in front of him, but Giovanni took a steadying breath. By the time his granddaughter answered, he was almost back to normal. ¡°I can, Nonno,¡± she whispered. She pointed and said, ¡°One, two, three, skip. One, two, three, skip.¡± As she spoke, her cousins moved. Together they stepped, then one would strike and get parried, before dodging the next blow. In a real fight it would be double time, but their practice followed a simple rhythm even a child could follow. Giovanni chuckled, until the rattle in his chest turned it into a hacking cough. His sparring grandchildren faltered and looked up, but he waved them off. ¡°What if I told you that everyone goes through dancing lessons? Even those two idiots.¡± ¡°I¡¯d think you¡¯re just trying to convince me to go to those stupid lessons.¡± Stefania glared at him. ¡°Ha!¡± Giovanni put a bony hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Out of all his family, many thought themselves powerful and skilled, but few of them would talk to the patriarch like that. No one was as fierce as his little Stefania. ¡°I have no reason to lie, my little terror. They all learned to dance, and then they learned to fight. We must be as elegant as we are deadly.¡± ¡°Like a wildcat,¡± Stefania said, patting the topiary animal. ¡°Just so.¡± Giovanni beamed, straightening back up. His back popped in several places and another wave of lightheadedness washed over him. It didn¡¯t matter how powerful he¡¯d once been. It didn¡¯t matter how fine his clothes were, or how perfectly neat and groomed he kept his beard and hair. Giovanni was old, and his body failed him more by the day. His heart skipped a beat as the realization hit him that today was it. It wasn¡¯t a rational, measured thought. Instead, a chill deeper than any winter settled in his heart, and dread washed over him. After decades of bloodshed, of clawing and fighting his way to the top among the noble houses, the end was in sight. Little Stefania had her entire life ahead of her, years and years to become the fierce wildcat Giovanni saw in her now. He had hours. Behind him, he saw years and years of glory, conquest, and winning. Ahead of him, he saw darkness. ¡°Nonno, are you okay?¡± he heard from a mile away. Small hands cupped his cheeks as his breath came in shorter and shorter hitches. An invisible hand crushed his chest in its grip. Giovanni struggled to breathe, panic tearing into him like a wolf descending upon a lamb. He dropped to his knees. The impact jolted his weary bones, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. ¡°Stefania, I¡­¡± A yell from the practice yard sounded the alarm. It didn¡¯t take long for servants, guards, and family to swarm the fallen Medina patriarch. Giovanni was dimly aware of the trip back to his bedroom, but all he could see or care about was trying to breathe and not cry. Medinas were brave, but he didn¡¯t want to go. Word passed through the estate quickly. His four children and fifteen grandchildren surrounded him. Gianna, his youngest at forty four, feigned tears and held her three children tight. Those grandchildren stared stonily at him, either too young or too distant to care that he was dying. He¡¯d never had much time for the useless girl or her brats. Did he regret it? Even Giovanni wasn¡¯t sure. Benicio, forty seven, had five boys and one girl. Half of them were strong men, while the others would grow to be strong. There were maybe two brains between them. They were excellent thugs, and would lead small teams of soldiers to victory some day. All for the glory of the family, but they were worth no more than that. Dario, fifty two, was technically his heir, but was an indulgent fool who spoiled his four children. They had sharp minds, but no iron to them. All four would be nightmares in the business world, but they lacked the teeth it took to stay on top. The patriarch had always been a demanding man, so Dario spoiled his kids until they were weak. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Luccia, fifty, was his favorite child, and mother to his favorite grandchild. Her two children had sharp minds and sharp eyes. Stefania looked at him with true grief, an anger at the injustice of the world taking her grandfather from her. Giovanni met her gaze and tears trailed down his cheeks. ¡°Father?¡± Dario asked, speaking slowly, as if Giovanni was deaf or simple. ¡°Is there anything you want to say¡­before?¡± ¡°Before I die?¡± Giovanni said haltingly between gasps for air. ¡°I didn¡¯t raise cowards, did I?¡± Here he was on his deathbed, and most of them looked relieved. Did he have anything to say? There wasn¡¯t enough time left to say it all. Speaking was difficult, and the more he talked, the less air he felt he had. Still, Dario was right. It was time. ¡°None of you are the heirs I deserve,¡± he said. Gianna wept louder, but his other children stared muted, and most of his grandchildren just looked uncomfortable. ¡°I brought this house from mere servants to having the favor of the king. I accomplished this through boldness, cunning, and strength. ¡°Out of all my family, there is only one who shares the same spark that brought this family to greatness. When I die, Luccia is to inherit, on one condition.¡± Dario¡¯s eyes blazed, but he remained silent. Traitorous mutters did nothing to hide their anger and hunger. All of them wanted what they thought they¡¯d earned. Disappointments, all. ¡°What is it, father?¡± Luccia asked, coming forward to take his hand. Out of all of his children, she had been almost invisible. Not weak, just not interested in fighting for his attention. Ironically, it made her matter more to the patriarch. Her dark curls looked so much like her mother¡¯s, and she had the same steel in her eyes. ¡°Stefania,¡± he said. ¡°Give her a sword. Give her the best education and let her fight. Were she a grown woman, I¡¯d choose her.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± Benicio snarled, pushing past his children. ¡°After all we¡¯ve done for you, you¡¯d choose a little girl over us? Over my dead body.¡± Giovanni shook his head. ¡°None of you are worthy. You are a bullheaded fool, Gianna is an irresponsible child, and Dario raised degenerates. Only Luccia has my love, my trust. But I will give you all one more chance.¡± ¡°How kind,¡± Dario sneered. Gianna whimpered and squeezed her children to her breast. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t leave us with nothing, would you?¡± ¡°That¡¯s up to Luccia. She¡¯ll manage the estate during the trial. During that time, she is to take care of the family and keep you all together.¡± ¡°Trial?¡± Luccia looked at her siblings, wary but not scared. She knew the danger Giovanni was putting her in. She was the only one he¡¯d trust to survive her siblings¡¯ wrath. Pain wracked Giovanni, the pressure on his chest tightening. The world dimmed before he gasped for air. ¡°You will¡­divide the estate¡­among you all. Give each what¡­what they need¡­to thrive. The grand¡­grandchildren¡­will¡­¡± He was fading now. His heart lurched and terror consumed him. He hacked and took as big a breath as he could. He met Stefania¡¯s eyes. The girl had tears in her eyes now, but she was strong. ¡°Keep our family strong forever.¡± The world froze. Giovanni took one last look over the faces of his family, most of them twisted in rage or disgust. Only Luccia and Stefania looked sad to see him go. On the walls were portraits of his father and grandfather, taken before their deaths. The earliest they could trace their lineage. At least his family would go on. He took some solace in knowing his bloodline was secure. Do you think so? A voice as endless and cold as winter caught his attention. Death stood clad in black and red silks, resembling the emperors of old. He was powerful and pale, with a skull instead of a face. Still, the teeth seemed to be smiling at Giovanni. ¡°I¡¯m not ready yet!¡± Giovanni barked, suddenly without fear. No fear, no aches and pains, no trouble breathing. A part of him knew the truth, even if he rejected it. Few people are, and yet your time is up. ¡°No! Give me more time, I demand it!¡± Giovanni stood up. To his surprise, he was no longer a frail old man, but in the prime of his life, powerful and wiry. He was dressed for a night at court, rapier at his side, with a jaunty hat on his head. Death cocked his head to the side and laughed. The sound was the worst thing Giovanni had ever heard, short and final. You are in no position to demand anything, Giovanni Medina. You were a mighty man once, but everything ends. That is the one constant in life. ¡°I deserve better!¡± Giovanni pounded his chest, pointing a finger at Death. ¡°Give me another chance and I¡¯ll prove it. I¡¯ll do anything for more time. The Medina bloodline will stand forever if I can just have a little more time.¡± To his surprise, Death seemed to consider it. His hand went to his chin bone, stroking it thoughtfully. Do you truly believe that? You think your bloodline is forever? ¡°I do,¡± said Giovanni. ¡°My children are disappointing, but some of my grandchildren¡­Give me more time, and I¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re ready to take over and expand my family¡¯s power. They just need my guidance.¡± The guidance you didn¡¯t give them while you were alive? Death sounded amused, and maybe that was where Giovanni had his chance. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°If I could just¡­stick around, and give their guidance my full attention, we¡¯ll last until Kingdom Come.¡± Interesting. You make a bold claim, but you were an extraordinary man. How about a friendly wager? ¡°A wager? What did you have in mind?¡± Giovanni still couldn¡¯t feel anything, but he remembered hope. I will let you stay, Giovanni Medina. Not as a man, but as a shade, watching over your family. They will not see or hear you except in their dreams as you whisper your guidance. You will be free to roam anywhere one of your descendants walks. ¡°Yes,¡± said Giovanni. ¡°I will do this. But no offer comes without strings. What¡¯s the catch?¡± You will exist only so long as your family does. When your bloodline ends, so do you. Guide your family well, Giovanni. We¡¯ll meet again, when I collect your children and grandchildren. Eventually, I will collect you too. Giovanni didn¡¯t have time to argue or ask questions. He remained where he was, but the rest of the world resumed. Luccia held his limp hand, and his body stared lifelessly at Stefania, who stared back fearlessly. ¡°He¡¯s gone,¡± Luccia said, setting his hand down. ¡°We going to have a problem now, Benicio? Dario?¡± ¡°The fools don¡¯t have the guts,¡± said Giovanni. He tried to put a hand on his daughter¡¯s shoulder, but it passed right through. Benicio had his hand on the dagger at his belt. His thumb ran over the pommel. ¡°That depends, sister. How do you plan on divvying up the bastard¡¯s land and possessions?¡± ¡°Equitably,¡± she said. ¡°Everyone gets what they need. I need less than the rest of you, so I will take less. Is there anyone else you trust more to be fair?¡± Gianna took her side immediately. ¡°I trust you.¡± ¡°Of course you do,¡± Dario spit. ¡°She¡¯s helped coddle you. I for one refuse to have my inheritance squandered by a careless whore.¡± Everyone started talking at once, shouting and pointing fingers at each other. Surprisingly, Giovanni was glad he was too dead to have a headache. Stefania broke away from the family and came to his body. ¡°Goodbye Nonno,¡± she whispered, closing his eyes. ¡°Not goodbye, my little terror,¡± he said, smiling. ¡°If I can come to you in dreams, then I¡¯ll see you this very night. I¡¯ll work on the family, but no one will get as much time as you. When I¡¯m through with you, you¡¯ll be greater than I ever was. That¡¯s my promise.¡± Chapter 2: Anger I Stefania dreamed, as she often did, of her grandfather. On the nights he came to her, he wasn¡¯t the old man she¡¯d known as a child. He was strong, fiery, and single minded. He never came without a reason, and he never left without making demands and barking orders. After a while, she¡¯d come to rely on him. That night¡¯s dream started without him, in the old Medina estate¡¯s ballroom, filled with faceless dancers. Stefania moved from partner to partner, swinging them around and laughing merrily. Some of her partners had swords and struck as she got near. She¡¯d just dip and weave her way through as the manic music guided her steps. It was a familiar dream, one born from dozens of balls and tense whispered conversations in shadowy nooks. The dance between families went on as long as anyone could remember, and Stefania was better at it than most. She had to be. After Giovanni¡¯s passing, their family split into three factions. Uncles Benicio and Dario both believed they deserved the inheritance and the role of head of the family. Her mother Luccia hadn¡¯t cared for the rivalry, pitting both of her brothers against each other while she took care of Gianna and their children. It wasn¡¯t a victory, just a stalemate. One Stefania intended to end. Stefania dodged one more swing of a sword before colliding with a curvy young thing, twirling in place, face hidden by shadows. She took the woman in her arms and spun, lost in the familiar dream. ¡°You are as bad as your hedonistic cousins,¡± Giovanni¡¯s voice came from behind her. ¡°You¡¯re just jealous, Nonno,¡± said Stefania, breaking away from the woman and turning around. ¡°You wish you could still dance with the pretty ladies. Care to step in?¡± She held out her hand. For a moment, her grandfather stared her down. Then he sighed and relented, taking her hand and joining her. He could pretend he didn¡¯t like it all he wanted, Stefania knew the truth. ¡°What words of wisdom do you have for me today?¡± She spun them around wildly, making her grandfather hold on tightly, lest he be flung away. ¡°Your cousins are conspiring against you,¡± he said ominously. ¡°Oh. Is that all? I already knew that,¡± Stefania said with a laugh. Giovanni scowled. ¡°Don¡¯t be arrogant. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed. Each successful raid or assassination fills them with more and more jealousy. They know I favor you.¡± ¡°Even though you give advice to all of them?¡± she scoffed. ¡°I want all my descendants to prosper,¡± said Giovanni, dipping her low. ¡°I have never once helped them act against you. But now you must heed my warning. It¡¯s not you that they¡¯re after. Not directly. They plan on killing Rocco and Marco.¡± He dropped her. Stefania hit the floor and woke up with a start, sitting straight up in bed. Her sons. Her damned cousins were going to kill her sons. She got out of bed, blood alternating hot and cold as her late grandfather¡¯s words echoed in her head. Thirty years after his death, she was a grown woman in the prime of her life, with a family of her own. Her boys were strong, smart, and so funny. Out of them only Rocco had the killer instinct needed to get through, but Stefania loved them both more than she ever thought herself capable of. The man in the bed next to her stirred. Her newest lover, Jan, was a burly German man, strong and good looking but not destined to last more than a month or two. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± he slurred. ¡°Nothing for you to worry about. Go back to sleep.¡± Stefania patted his bare ass, taking a moment to enjoy the firmness before she stood up and went to the kitchen. Her estate was nowhere near as big as the family one had been, before her mother broke it up and sold it, making the three Medina factions almost start over. It was still big enough to have servants. ¡°Wake up,¡± Stefania demanded, nudging a maid up with her foot. ¡°I want coffee and breakfast, at once.¡± The maid only took a couple of kicks to scramble to her feet. ¡°At this hour, Donna?¡± ¡°At any hour I require. Obviously.¡± Stefania didn¡¯t make a habit of being cruel to her staff, but her grandfather¡¯s words echoed in her head. They plan on killing Rocco and Marco. Shivering, she went into the dining room and sat at the head of the table. The pre-dawn dimness left most of the room in shadow, and that suited Stefania. These were dark times indeed, if her cousins planned on murdering children. One of the first lessons all Medinas learned was that anything was permissible, so long as you won. Even so, there were certain lines one did not cross. Lorenzo and his children sometimes killed Stefania¡¯s men, but they never touched family. Valentino and his clan would go out of their way to disrupt business, but they¡¯d never come at her directly. Was it just Benicio, or was Dario in on it? It couldn¡¯t have been Gianna. Luccia had set her up for life, and now her children were educated. None of them were wealthy, but they made an honest living. Too honest to really be considered true Medinas. No, it couldn¡¯t have been her. By the time breakfast arrived, Stefania burned from the inside out. No one would hurt her children. Not while she still drew breath. The Medina patriarch had never given Stefania bad advice but for the first time, she doubted him. If he was telling the truth, then it fell on her to do something even worse. Anything was permissible, if you won. The opportunity came a few days later, when the letter arrived. Dearest Stefania, Our enmity has gone on long enough. We are stronger together, and I miss the family. Your mother, God rest her soul, was the toughest woman I have ever known and the fairest. You are the strongest and fiercest, and here I admit my inferiority. In the ongoing fight, you¡¯ve won. I no longer want your blade at my throat. I propose that we gather the family and make up. Together we are far stronger than we could be otherwise, and I think it¡¯s time to use that for the glory of the Medina family once more. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. When Stefania saw it, she laughed. There it was, the open hand extended while he hid a dagger behind his back. This was exactly his style. Dario¡¯s children had all become sharper, leaner, and hungrier with age. It wasn¡¯t enough to have a stranglehold over the ships crossing the Mediterranean, they needed the fame and social edge only Stefania could bring. There was only one way to handle this. She grabbed some parchment and a pen and jotted down her response. It was a quick, terse note, indicating her tentative interest and willingness to speak further. Plans already formed in her head, ways to spot the trap he was sure to lay and turn it around on him. She received a response a week later, in the middle of lunch with her boys. ¡°What¡¯s that, Mama?¡± Rocco asked. He was a sharp eyed thirteen year old, with all of Stefania¡¯s confidence but a better heart. He¡¯d grow out of it, if she had anything to do with it. ¡°An invitation to a party, where your cousins plan on killing me,¡± she said, setting the letter down. ¡°Want to see?¡± Rocco wordlessly took it and read mostly silently, mouthing along some of the words. Marco, eight years old, looked distressed. ¡°Why do they want to kill you, Mama?¡± ¡°Because they are jealous of me, my darling. They hate that I have what they don¡¯t, and they¡¯ll do anything to punish me for it.¡± Even kill her children. Stefania hadn¡¯t known a moment¡¯s peace since the dream. Giovanni hadn¡¯t come back to her yet with advice or warnings, and every day that passed had her more eager and willing to strike first. ¡°He can¡¯t be serious,¡± Rocco said, slapping the letter down. ¡°This is the most obvious trap that I¡¯ve ever seen. He¡¯s never cared about meeting us before, why would he now? How do you think he plans on doing it, Mama? What are we going to do about it?¡± Stefania shook her head, chuckling fondly. ¡°We aren¡¯t going to do anything about it. I will handle this. You two will remain at home while I and my men will show up. Whatever they try to do to me, I will uncover it and turn it against them.¡± She wondered how often her grandfather had lied to his children about his plans. If he were here now, Stefania knew he¡¯d scoff at her guilt and tell her to get over it. He¡¯d said as much in her dreams when she¡¯d first gotten pregnant with Rocco and questioned herself and her place in the world. Still, in a harsh world, her boys were the only thing she cared about more than power. ¡°I promise you,¡± she said in a low growl of a voice, ¡°they will regret conspiring against us.¡± Rocco nodded, a fierce glint in his eye. Maybe she could let him in on some of the plan, show him how she worked and help guide him into being just as strong and unrelenting. Medinas were strong, and were capable of making the hard choices needed to stay on top. Marco, on the other hand, didn¡¯t look entirely convinced. ¡°Nothing¡¯s going to happen to you, right?¡± ¡°Of course, my darling,¡± Stefania said soothingly, forcing herself to smile. ¡°I¡¯ve got everything under control.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± he said. ¡°Can we go riding today?¡± Stefania¡¯s heart softened. Sweet little Marco loved horses more than anything. ¡°Of course we can. We¡¯ll go riding as long as you¡¯d like.¡± In the weeks that followed, Stefania played her part. All attacks against her cousins¡¯ businesses and friendships stopped. Her men were instructed to pull back and not answer insults, no matter how slight. They went into a defensive formation, focusing on making sure her own high quality textiles and jewelry safely reached their destinations. No one complained, as they knew better, but the turn from heightened aggression to simple business as usual rankled them. Stefania had to handle a few disputes herself, cutting down unruly men who thought to challenge her in public. She took no joy in their deaths. Each day that ticked by was another without burying her blade in Valentino¡¯s guts. Sleep didn¡¯t come easy, and maybe that¡¯s why it took until the night before the party for Stefania to dream of her grandfather again. ¡°What on earth do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± He had been waiting for her, eyes blazing with fury. ¡°I warned you so you could put a stop to the violence, not do it first. You are all my bloodline, worthy or not, and I will not have you murder them.¡± They were in a dark void, where the dreams sometimes took place. It usually meant a deeper sleep, and more time together. The Medina patriarch¡¯s eyes widened with surprise as Stefania shoved him. ¡°What the hell did you expect me to do, Nonno? I will not let them touch my children. If they¡¯re willing to do this, then there¡¯s nothing I¡¯m unwilling to do to protect them.¡± ¡°Nothing?¡± Giovanni challenged from the ground. He stood slowly, drawing himself up to his full height. ¡°Then make peace. Real peace. They only want Rocco and Marco to control you. If you -- ¡° ¡°If I what, Nonno? If I give in? If I allow them to use my children to put a collar around my neck?¡± Stefania shook her head violently. ¡°If you wanted a different outcome, you shouldn¡¯t have told me what they were going to do.¡± Giovanni let out a garbled cry of frustration. ¡°I warned you so that we could come up with a plan! You know better than to blindly jump in. Have I taught you nothing?¡± ¡°You taught me that only fools hesitate,¡± Stefania said coldly. ¡°You taught me that no insult goes unanswered if you have any respect for yourself. And you taught me that nothing comes before defending your family. What advice did you give them that would lead to them targeting children?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve tried to tell them to take a page out of your book and be bold,¡± said Giovanni, some of his fire dimming. ¡°I¡¯ve tried to tell them that cowering and taking loss after loss makes them weak, and the weak deserve whatever happens to them. I told them to come to you and beg for your favor, so you could reunite the family under one banner once more.¡± Stefania turned away from him. ¡°So you played on their insecurities until they wanted my blood and the blood of my children. Well played, Nonno. Now there is no choice. It¡¯s us or them, and I refuse to lose. You taught me too well for that. Goodbye.¡± ¡°Stefania, please,¡± he started, but it was too late. She jerked awake, tears in her eyes. She furiously wiped them away. It was foolish to waste them on her enemies, but it was clear that¡¯s all she had left. Aside from Rocco, Marco, and Gianna¡¯s useless children and grandchildren, the rest of the world could burn. Stefania stood and started her day early. Ever since she had been an angry little girl, there was one weakness above all else she abhorred in herself. Every battle, operation, or confrontation had been preceded by the cold fear of the unknown and of failing. Although Stefania knew it to be normal, after this many years fighting for gold and glory, she should have been above it all. The only way out was through. Stefania spent the day getting her men ready, going over the plans in her head, and slowly boiling over. When the time came to arrive, there was none of her usual easy laughter and reassurances. ¡°Be good while I¡¯m gone,¡± she told her children, stopping just long enough to grab them both in a hug. ¡°You are the pride and hope of the Medinas. When I am dead and gone, it¡¯ll be on you to take everything that I was with you, to pass on to your own children when you grow up. ¡°Do you understand? The bloodline is strong and must pass on. This is how the Medinas live forever.¡± Even when too angry to think of him, Giovanni¡¯s words came from her lips. ¡°I understand, Mama,¡± Rocco said with the stoic strength of a worthy heir. ¡°I¡¯ll take care of Marco and protect this house until you return.¡± ¡°Good boy,¡± she said, kissing him one last time. ¡°You¡¯ll be okay, right?¡± Marco pleaded. He never reacted well to his mother¡¯s anger. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± said Stefania with one last kiss for him as well. ¡°But if you care to, say a prayer for your cousins. They¡¯re going to need it.¡± And then she and her men were off, a four hour trek across the countryside to her cousin Valentino¡¯s estate. She wouldn¡¯t return. Chapter 3: Anger II The first stop was one destined to make the trip even longer. Sofia Medina was Gianna¡¯s youngest daughter, and the only one of them Stefania came close to respecting. Phillippe was a musician without a home of his own and who knows how many bastards, and Maria an aging party monster. They¡¯d find their own ways to the Valentino residence. Sofia was not a killer. She was the type to take the path of least resistance instead of fighting for what she wanted. Unlike her siblings, she was successful and her business was one of the few neutral places for the Medinas to meet. All across the countryside and outside of every major town within a hundred miles, her inns provided a welcome respite from travel. It was to one of these they stopped. ¡°Stefania, darling, you look incredible!¡± Sofia waddled forward away from the building. She was a comfortably plump woman wearing an extravagant fur coat too good for the area. For someone who couldn¡¯t fight or run away, it meant relying on a nearby bodyguard at all times. Today, Stefania would be that bodyguard. ¡°Sofia,¡± Stefania returned, tolerating her cousin¡¯s sweaty embrace. ¡°You look¡­Like you. Not many people would wear fur in August.¡± ¡°Not many people understand how important it is to look this good,¡± Sofia laughed, fluffing her coat up. ¡°You, of course, are one of them. Not many women can wear men¡¯s clothes and own it.¡± Stefania smiled. As much as she would¡¯ve loved a dress to wear for a real party, a nice men¡¯s jacket could hide so much. The fact that it would cause a stir among her more conservative relatives was a pleasant bonus. ¡°Think it will upset Valentino¡¯s oh so precious sense of propriety and image?¡± Sofia giggled. ¡°Why Stefania, are you trying to cause trouble?¡± Stefania bared her teeth. ¡°Always.¡± ¡°Is that why your boys aren¡¯t here?¡± Sofia craned her head to get a better look at Stefania¡¯s entourage. She had a couple dozen men at arms, laden with swords and single shot pistols. They carried her version of the Medina banner, a tree with a skull in the center of it. Her grandfather¡¯s skull, though no one ever bothered to ask. ¡°Among other reasons,¡± said Stefania. The anger jumped inside her, gnashing its teeth and demanding she let it out. She swallowed it down. ¡°Until I know what Valentino¡¯s up to, I thought it best to spare my boys the headache. Are you ready to go?¡± ¡°Almost! Just one second and I¡¯ll be good,¡± she said, once more eyeing Stefania¡¯s men. Bowing graciously, she disappeared back into the enormous inn, letting out a landslide of laughter and music. It took another fifteen minutes and the rest of Stefania¡¯s dwindling patience before Sofia emerged once more, laughing and with a flush to her face. The smell of wine reached her cousin before she did. ¡°Thank you so much for your patience, had to leave a quick message. Shall we?¡± She climbed up on the wagon full of wine and luxuries Stefania brought. The ride to Valentino¡¯s estate could¡¯ve been worse. Sofia talked the entire time, trampling on Stefania¡¯s already frayed nerves. Her cousin and her siblings were easily the most socially adept of the Medina brood, and it was something to marvel at as the hours melted away and Sofia¡¯s booming voice had their honor guard ride a little further out to be away from the noise. Stefania eventually managed to tune her out and go over the plans once more. She had enough men with her to handle themselves and protect her, and her spies and moles would handle the rest. No doubt Valentino would have tricks of his own, but he wasn¡¯t the type to get his own hands dirty. When she struck first, it would be decisive and end it. ¡°Hey. HEY! Can I ask you something?¡± Sofia shook her from her thoughts. ¡°What?¡± Stefania asked, not looking at her cousin as she urged her horse onward. They were at the edges of Valentino¡¯s estate now, with the sun almost down. It was maybe another thirty minutes to the house, and the wild countryside now turned into carefully groomed gardens and a solid road. ¡°Why do you hate me and my siblings so much?¡± Sofia sounded hurt. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Stefania scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t hate you. Who do you think has provided for you all these years? Who has kept you protected from Valentino and Lorenzo and their wretched brood?¡± ¡°But you look down on me,¡± she insisted. ¡°You¡¯ve never been shy about showing that. You look down on me and my siblings and have only ever cared for us begrudgingly, because your mother did. Why?¡± ¡°Why?¡± The anger Stefania had been nursing all day boiled over. ¡°Why? Maria is a common whore, past her best days. She¡¯ll never stop sucking the teat she¡¯s provided, even after it¡¯s dry. Phillippe is fine when he¡¯s off on one of his year long excursions, when there¡¯s the hope he¡¯ll never come back. Because when he does, it¡¯s always with his hand out for help starting over.¡± ¡°And me?¡± ¡°You¡­¡± The Medina heir took a long, deep breath. ¡°You¡¯re the only one worth anything from your family. You and Roberto work hard enough, but you run common inns. It¡¯s beneath the Medina name. Your children grew up in the same shit that produced Roberto, who is a drunken bore. I don¡¯t hate you, Sofia. I just don¡¯t think of you if I don¡¯t have to.¡± They rode in silence for a little longer. Hints of guilt gnawed at Stefania, but she let her cousin stew in her contempt. With everything going on, there was no room to worry for anyone¡¯s feelings. ¡°I always liked you, you know. I always looked up to you. You were always so strong, so fierce, so decisive.¡± Sofia sighed. ¡°It hurts to know that you always looked down on us. But when the dust clears and the rest of you lose control and kill each other, I¡¯ll be there to pick up the slack.¡± It didn¡¯t sound like a threat so much as a sad, resigned statement. Stefania didn¡¯t answer, save to spit on the ground in front of the wagon. With a shout she jabbed her heels into her horse¡¯s sides. She left her cousin behind and went up to the looming house. Valentino had based everything off the ancestral Medina home, now divided and sold off. Everything from the sprawling house and surrounding countryside was meant to evoke the feeling of the house of Geovanni. It was his little way of proclaiming himself the true heir. Stefania would¡¯ve rolled her eyes, but seeing an almost identical fencing yard surrounded by topiary animals made her heart skip a beat. It was so easy to seethe and let her anger try to talk her out of what she was about to do, but the familiarity got to her. She blinked tears out of her eyes, wondering for a moment if she maybe wasn¡¯t wrong about everything. Then a runner brought Valentino out, running everything. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Beloved cousin, welcome!¡± Valentino cried out, coming up the drive to meet her. He wore expensive silks and had an obnoxiously large hat that Giovanni had mocked more than once during their night time chats. ¡°I had feared you wouldn¡¯t show. Everyone¡¯s waiting for you and Sofia.¡± ¡°She¡¯ll be along eventually,¡± Stefania said, unsmiling. Valentino didn¡¯t look like a dangerous, untrustworthy man. He looked like a new money fop, all extravagance with zero substance. Everything from his beard and curly mustache to the rings on his hands were carefully chosen to evoke lavish wealth. She hated it. ¡°You look soft, cousin.¡± Valentino¡¯s eye twitched, but he laughed. ¡°The joys of success, Stefania. With any luck, softness comes for us all and we pass on the torch to the next generation.¡± He looked about ready to her. He was in his mid fifties and seemed healthy enough, but his best days were behind him, and Stefania was in her prime. She climbed off her horse and went right up to him, looking her cousin up and down. ¡°Well,¡± she said with a smirk, ¡°it seems you were born successful and never have known hardship. And clearly it¡¯s working for you. A lovely home you have.¡± Pity if something happened to it. ¡°Thank you,¡± said Valentino, bowing graciously. ¡°Shall we go inside? Dinner is almost ready. Someone can take your coat. Perhaps find you a nice, appropriate dress for you to wear.¡± ¡°Oh, Valentino,¡± said Stefania, patting his cheek like she would a child. ¡°I¡¯ll wear a dress when you do.¡± She headed inside, forcing him to choose between following her or waiting for Sofia. Nerves attacked, making every shadow leap out and every armed man a threat. Valentino¡¯s house had enough of a guard to match her men, if it came down to it, but so far no one attacked her. The inside looked like a well decorated mausoleum, a tribute to the dead as if they could or should be impressed by Valentino¡¯s efforts. Stefania steadied herself and headed right for the dining room. The rest of her family were already there, enjoying light snacks and wine. All conversation came to a hush as she entered, and two dozen eyes settled on her. Stefania gave a deep bow, conscious of the concealed weapons in her clothes and how it would feel to use them. ¡°Good evening,¡± Stefania called out, mouth splitting into a feral grin. ¡°It has been too long, Medinas. I trust everyone is well?¡± The whispers started again. Lorenzo, violent thug that he was, looked ready to leap over the table he sat at to get to her. His younger brothers sat lined up next to him, an entire table full of people who probably wanted her dead at least as much as Valentino did. Just because she hadn¡¯t yet killed a cousin didn¡¯t mean they had escaped years of defeat and humiliation. ¡°You always knew how to make an entrance,¡± Lorenzo¡¯s youngest sister, Nera said. ¡°We are well, and you are well met. Have you come to break bread peacefully with us, like family?¡± Her tone was even. ¡°I¡¯ve come to break bread, yes,¡± said Stefania. ¡°Among other things. Going over to a mostly empty table that had her own little sister and her niblings, she smiled. ¡°How goes it, sweet Coretta? You finding yourself enjoying the company here?¡± She sat down at the center, where she belonged. The platters of food made her mouth water, but she would eat after she took care of business. Coretta sighed and welcomed her with a half hearted, one-armed hug as Stefania sat. ¡°Must you antagonize everyone at all times? This is a dinner for peace.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what Valentino claims, yes,¡± said Stefania under her breath. ¡°Nonno claims otherwise.¡± Her sister just rolled her eyes. Giovanni didn¡¯t appear to anyone, and most of the time he forgot about Luccia¡¯s youngest entirely. She had no reason to believe in the stories of his ghost lingering on. ¡°Please tell me you¡¯re not going to cause trouble.¡± ¡°I promise, I will not be the cause of anything. Valentino knows what he¡¯s done, and he¡¯ll answer for it.¡± Rage flared inside her again, brief and hot. Stefania looked around the room at dark features, haughty features much like her own. There would be much fewer after tonight. Valentino came back alone. No doubt Sofia was dawdling, or maybe passed out drunk. Whatever, she wasn¡¯t necessary for the upcoming show. Their host went to the center of the room and cleared his throat. ¡°I want to thank everyone for being here, although I see a few missing faces. I would have preferred to have everyone in one place for this, but alas.¡± He looked at Stefania specifically. She didn¡¯t react save for fluttering her eyelashes at him. ¡°For too long we¡¯ve been apart. But before we talk of business and reconciliation, please, eat this feast I¡¯ve had prepared for us all.¡± He bowed his head and went to his own seat. Scattered, muted applause accompanied him, and then it was quiet. Valentino clapped his hands twice and musicians came out of the wings, playing an old ballad that had been beloved by Giovanni. Stefania fought the urge to scoff. He had nothing new, nothing original to him. All he had was clinging to Nonno¡¯s image and strength. She kept her eyes and ears sharp, but she did give in and eat. If her cousin was going to be a copycat, at least he provided them with all of their favorites. Fine soups and cheeses along with excellently dried and cured meats as thin as parchment. The wine was full bodied and paired well with the main course, stuffed quails. In some ways, it delighted her, knowing everyone would enjoy themselves before the end. Was it not merciful to give the dead one final good meal? Sure, it was Valentino who provided it, but then, Stefania had few qualms about hijacking his trap for her own ends. She chuckled and drained another glass of wine, promising herself she¡¯d stop before she was too full to strike. In half an hour, Valentino stood up once more, clearing his throat and clinking a fork against his wine goblet for attention. Conversation died down again, and he took his opportunity for a speech. ¡°For too long we¡¯ve been at each other¡¯s throats, too eager to hurt or inconvenience each other to think about the bigger picture. I -- ¡° ¡°How many times did you partake in those festivities?¡± Stefania called out, finishing her third glass of wine. Her head buzzed pleasantly, but it wasn¡¯t too much. Not yet. Valentino took a deep breath. ¡°More than I should have, dear cousin. I¡¯m just as much at fault as any of us are. And that¡¯s why I gathered us here today. I¡¯m tired of the petty fighting, and the backstabbing, and always having to look over my shoulder. Tonight, we end the enmity for good.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± said Stefania, rising on unsteady legs. Her breath caught in her chest. Something was off, but she couldn¡¯t put her finger on it. She carefully made her way around the table and stood teen feet away from her cousin. ¡°We end it tonight. But unlike what you thought, you will not lay a finger on my sons.¡± Valentino blinked, and her cousins whispered in a hush. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± He demanded with a false laugh. All around the room, Valentino¡¯s men came from the hallways, drawing swords and guns. They flanked the Medinas, but Stefania wasn¡¯t concerned. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been receiving advice from Nonno,¡± she said, hand on the edge of her jacket. ¡°He talks to me too. He told me about the plot against my children. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. Did you really think I would let you get away with it?¡± Lorenzo and his brothers stood up, hands on daggers at their sides. They had enough propriety to not bring full swords to the table, but were always ready for a brawl, and they could sense one coming. Valentino held his hand out to keep them at bay while he spoke. ¡°I would never harm children,¡± he said seriously. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to kill your children, they were to be fostered by me. Hostages to your good behavior.¡± ¡°And now they¡¯re not here,¡± said Stefania. ¡°But I am. And I¡¯m putting an end to it now. An end to you.¡± Valentino chuckled darkly. ¡°I already have. Did you enjoy the wine, cousin? A favorite vintage, with a little something extra in it. I promise, I was going to be merciful, but now I¡¯m rethinking it. If you sit down and swear fealty, then maybe we can --¡± Stefania¡¯s vision blurred. Fear hissed, making her rage flare. It was the only thing keeping her head clear. She pulled out the single shot pistol from inside her coat. Valentino had enough time to gape before she pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot rang out, loud enough to echo around the rafters and be heard from outside. It was the signal Stefania had promised her men. And now Valentino stood there dumbfounded, hand touching his bloody chest. He collapsed to his knees, and all hell broke loose. Chapter 4: Anger III ¡°You fools!¡± Giovanni screamed, but no one could hear him. It was easily the worst part of being dead, other than being unable to enjoy wine. His shade stood in the center of Valentino¡¯s dining room, helpless to do anything but watch as the carnage unfolded. After Stefania landed her shot in his heart, Valentino¡¯s guards leapt into action, only to be shot or cut down by her spies among the ranks. Although she had been drugged, Stefania got moving immediately, ducking to avoid gunfire. She slid on her knees to Valentino¡¯s gasping form, drawing the dagger from inside her coat. Stefania plunged it into her cousin¡¯s back, grabbing his dagger and rising in time to meet her cousin Lorenzo, who had pulled out a knife of his own. She parried his blow and the two circled each other in a bitter dance. Both had drunk the wine, but Lorenzo had a good fifty pounds on her. Giovanni groaned and pulled on his hair. It didn¡¯t hurt, and after decades of being dead, he wished it would. Anything to distract himself from the chaos. While Stefania and Lorenzo traded blows, Valentino¡¯s wife had gone to his body and sobbed over it. Guards battled one another, and the sounds of gunshots and screaming came from outside as his damned grandchildren¡¯s hired men killed one another. ¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be this way, you idiots!¡± he spat. It¡¯s your own fault, you know. A familiar figure came into existence over Valentino¡¯s body. This time, Death appeared in the fallen man¡¯s own clothing, safe for the grinning skull. This didn¡¯t have to happen. ¡°You!¡± Giovanni seethed at Death. ¡°You must¡¯ve cheated! You made this happen, didn''t you? You manipulated them and are trying to make me lose!¡± Death chuckled. I haven¡¯t had to do anything, Giovanni. You did this all by yourself. I¡¯ve never seen a man get this many family members killed at once. Truly, I¡¯m impressed. Giovanni¡¯s fierce granddaughter feinted, and Lorenzo hesitated. It was just enough for her to bury a blade in his stomach and spill his guts. He dropped with a horrified expression. Stefania laughed and kissed him on the forehead before she kicked him to the ground, panting for breath. ¡°I had nothing to do with this,¡± Giovanni groaned, watching the spirits of Valentino and Lorenzo shimmer into existence. They looked better than they ever had, though shocked and upset. Didn¡¯t you? You pitted your family against one another, and for what? To try to get them to agree that one of them was better than the others, the true heir? Death walked over to Valentino, offering his hand. ¡°I tried, Grandfather,¡± Valentino said, blinking at the violence around him as if confused. ¡°I was going to defang Stefania and bring the rest together.¡± He took Death¡¯s hand. ¡°It was going to be clean, honorable, and measured.¡± It would¡¯ve been surrender to Valentino the king, Death scoffed. You wouldn¡¯t have brought them together, you would¡¯ve brought them to heel. Then the man faded into the shadows. Around them the fighting had slowed, with only a few survivors. Lorenzo looked around as both Valentino¡¯s men and Stefania cornered his only son, bloodthirst uniting them against a common foe. Stefania killed her cousin and blocked the sword coming her way. She never saw the dagger coming from behind. Giovanni looked away. Lorenzo, beast though he was, let out a muted cry upon seeing his child murdered. Then Diego¡¯s spirit stood up. He was unnaturally calm, if a little sad, too young for this. Lorenzo ran up to him and threw his arms around the boy. Death came from behind, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. This didn¡¯t have to happen, you know. You could¡¯ve taught your family love. And now, after the dust settles, how many descendants will you still have? Lorenzo and Diego shone with an inner light, shining bright until their light swallowed the room. And then they were gone. ¡°I never advised any of this,¡± said Giovanni. ¡°I taught them to be strong, and to be direct, but not this. They have no idea what they¡¯re doing to me!¡± His beloved granddaughter pulled away from the blade, burying her dagger into her attacker¡¯s throat. He fell to the floor, her on top of him. The fighting had nearly completely stopped at that point. The only two survivors were men in Valentino uniforms. They came up to Stefania, one dropping to his knees to check out her wound. ¡°This is bad,¡± he said,¡± looking away from his employer. ¡°I don¡¯t think we have anything for this¡­¡± ¡°Relax,¡± Stefania slurred, eyes focusing somewhere near where Giovanni stood. ¡°I¡­At least my sons are safe. These bastards will never¡­¡± Her huffs for breath grew faster and shorter. ¡°Stefania, no,¡± Giovanni groaned. The doors to the dining hall flew open. Stefania¡¯s men came in, armed and bloodied. With them came Sofia, looking around in distaste but not surprise. ¡°You,¡± Stefania gasped. Her eyes darted around to her men behind the plump woman. ¡°Kill her. Now.¡± They stood there, silent. ¡°Yes,¡± said Sofia, ¡°me. With a lot of help from Valentino and you. The two of you are so predictable. So goddamned arrogant. You looked at each other as threats and never once considered me. How could you? I¡¯m beneath you.¡± She threw her head back and laughed. Giovanni stared at his two granddaughters, enraged. ¡°You two supported each other!¡± he shouted impotently. No one supported anyone. That¡¯s the point. Death laughed at him again. Giovanni shuddered and watched his favorite, his little terror, slow down. ¡°My¡­Sons¡­¡± Stefania choked out, body shivering violently as blood pooled between her fingers. ¡°Dead,¡± said Sofia. ¡°At least, they should be by now. My own special thank you for years of providing for us while spitting on us. With the rest of you out of the way, I¡¯ll pick up the pieces. You were wrong to look down on me, cousin.¡± Stefania gathered the last of her strength and spat a glob of blood and phlegm at Sofia¡¯s feet. It was the last thing she ever did. When the day started, you had one living child, fourteen living grandchildren, and six great grandchildren. Now, you have one living child, five living grandchildren, and four great grandchildren. Death didn¡¯t move across the room so much as suddenly appeared by Stefania¡¯s emerging spirit. Any regrets, Stefania? Death asked, putting a hand on her arm. She looked at her grandfather, disappointment cutting him worse than hate ever could. ¡°Is it true? Are my sons dead?¡± Yes. ¡°Will you take me to them?¡± Yes. ¡°Then¡­no regrets. Take me to my sons.¡± Stefania closed her eyes. ¡°Goodbye Nonno.¡± ¡°Stefania,¡± Giovanni started, but it was too late. She was gone. Sofia and her men had left moments before, leaving just him, Death, and dozens of corpses. I¡¯m going to make you an offer, Giovanni. I will make this offer every so often, but I give you a choice. Will you move on and go to your final rest? ¡°What? Of course not,¡± Giovanni spat. ¡°As long as one of my descendants lives, so will I. The Medinas will never die.¡± Death shook his head pityingly. You can do nothing good by remaining. You¡¯ve already failed your family. How much worse are you prepared to let it get? Giovanni glared at the being. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I have made some mistakes. But I am no fool. I will learn from this. Sofia. Sofia¡¯s proved herself to be a deadly woman. I¡¯ll follow her and her children. With this, she¡¯ll have the family¡¯s wealth, and have made a name for herself. She¡¯ll do it better, if I guide her.¡± Then you will continue? You are sure? ¡°I am. I will never turn away from this. The Medina¡¯s will remain on top.¡± Death stared him down, before sighing. As you wish. It will not end well.