Vittorio arrived at his mansion and was immediately greeted by his mother's voice:
"Vittorio, is that you?"
"One, two, three..." whispered Vittorio as he watched the maid close the door.
Soon, the sound of his mother's high heels indicated her approach. She appeared with a huge smile, indicating that she had planned something for her son during his absence. Vittorio smiled back and let his face be filled with his mother's reception kisses.
"Hello, Mom. What are you planning?" asked the mafioso as he held his mother's arms.
"Planning? Is that how you talk to your mother?" Antonietta scolded, pretending to be offended by her son's question. Finally, she smiled, indicating that he was right. She ran her hand over Vittorio's suit, straightening it as she said, "Giuseppe is in the office. He came to visit us..."
"Did he come to visit us, or give me advice I didn't ask for?" questioned Vittorio, arching one of his eyebrows. "Or did you invite him?"
"I asked him to come and visit us," confessed Antonietta, receiving an eye roll from her son as he walked away. The matriarch of the Amorielle family then hastened her steps to keep up with her son while trying to explain, "Your father always listened to his Consigliere, his advisor, when making decisions..."
"Giuseppe is not my Consigliere," retorted Vittorio, walking towards the office.
"I know, but he is your Goomba, or at least that's what you used to say," Antonietta reminded her son.
Vittorio paused for a moment and then turned to his mother. Yes, she was right. There was a time when Vittorio saw Giuseppe as a Goomba, a mentor to him.
"He was my Goomba, madre," corrected Vittorio. "Now everyone who was there on the night of my father's death... They're all considered suspects and that includes Giuseppe."
"I understand you," agreed Antonietta, although by the tone Vittorio knew that she didn't agree at all. She held onto her son's arm and then asked, "Please, just listen to what he has to say. It's about the vendetta, the revenge against Domenico... Just listen to him, as a friend of our family..."
"Mother...," said Vittorio, shaking his head as he threatened to open the doorknob to the office.
"Do this for me," his mother asked, holding her son's face in her hands. "Can you do me this humble favor?"
"What man is capable of saying no to Dona Antonietta Amorielle?" Vittorio started, receiving a strong kiss on one side of his face.
"Thank you," Antonietta thanked her son.
"Don't thank me yet," said Vittorio enigmatically. "In exchange for this small favor, you'll have to do something for me. You know how it works..."
"Typical of an Amorielle," grumbled Antonietta.
"I need you to invite all the families for a dinner here at our house," Vittorio began, surprising his mother. He smiled at her and continued, "Make it clear that everyone in the family, including the daughters, should come, okay?"
"Of course. When do you want this dinner?" his mother asked, excited.
"I want this dinner for tomorrow. Do you think you can do that?" Vittorio asked.
"Are you asking me? How audacious..." Antonietta commented, shaking her head. She pointed to herself and continued, "Just know that I once prepared a dinner for more than 300 people overnight when the Pope visited your grandfather's house in Italy..."
"Yes, I know. You've told me that story many times," Vittorio interrupted, receiving a loving look from his mother. "What's wrong, mother?"
"Is this the dinner I'm thinking of?" Antonietta asked, curious.
"You'll have your answer tomorrow if you can make it happen," Vittorio replied evasively. He opened the door and said, "Now come in. Let's hear what he has to say."
Antonietta trembled slightly as she saw the door to the office open. Since her husband's death, she had never entered that room of the house. The memories were too painful for her. She took two steps back as her body refused to enter the room. She smiled at her son and then said, "I can't... I have a dinner to prepare. Don Vittorio Amorielle's first dinner. It must be an unforgettable event."
"As you wish," replied Vittorio before entering the office.
Sitting on the leather couch was an old man with white hair and a stubble beard in his old moss-green suit, holding a glass of whiskey in his hands, completely oblivious to the presence of Vittorio, who made a point of slamming the door to attract the attention of his father's old consigliere.
Giuseppe jumped up when he noticed Vittorio's presence. He took only a few steps toward the young man he had watched grow up, and then, as the rule dictated, Vittorio Amorielle lifted his arm slightly toward the old advisor, who held the hand of the new Capo dei Capi – the boss of all bosses of the mafia – and kissed the golden ring with the family's initials on Vittorio's pinky finger.
"Don Vittorio," said Giuseppe before looking up at the young man, whose expression was more serious than he had ever seen.
"Giuseppe Ricci," Vittorio said, pointing to the couch.
"Wow, full name and surname," commented Giuseppe as he straightened his suit to sit in the place designated by his friend's son. Despite receiving a blank expression, the man was not satisfied and continued talking, "Is this how we address each other nowadays?"
"This is how I treat people who try to manipulate my mother to get to me," explained Vittorio as he sat down in his chair.
"Me? Me manipulating Antonietta Amorielle? Vittorio, please...I would never...I would never...know that it was your mother who invited me," argued Giuseppe, nervously.
"Let's get to the point, Giuseppe. What do you have to say about the Vendetta I made against Domenico?" asked Vittorio, leaning back in his chair.
"First thing: Never take credit for a Bump off, a murder," said Giuseppe as he pointed towards Vittorio, angry. "A boss never puts himself in a position that can put him on the Feds' radar."
"Feds?" questioned Vittorio, unable to remember the slang's meaning right away.
"The federal agents, Vittorio," answered Giuseppe, even more annoyed with the young man's ignorance. "We don't want to make the same mistake as years ago."
"You don't have to worry about that," commented Vittorio, who opened the drawer of his desk.
"How not? You spread Domenico's body parts on the Brooklyn Bridge!" exploded Giuseppe. "You should have kept the body on ice, like everyone else does!"
"And you have to be careful with your tone when talking to me, Giuseppe," said Vittorio before taking out his Glock from the drawer and placing it on his desk, making Giuseppe widen his eyes.
"I'm just advising you, Vittorio... I mean, Don Vittorio," explained Giuseppe, nervously raising his hands. "You're young in this, I just want to give you the proper guidance, like I did with your father for many years."
"Giuseppe, you're not my Consigliere," argued Vittorio, who carefully loaded the pistol.
"I know, but I also know that you haven't chosen one for my position yet."
"You yourself said you would retire when my father was gone," continued Vittorio, who now placed the gun on the table. "So, I'm not understanding why you're offering me advice that I didn't ask for..."
"The way you dealt with Domenico caught everyone's attention," Giuseppe informed, his forehead already sweaty.
"I only did to Domenico what he deserved for being a Cascittuni," Vittorio explained as he rummaged through the drawer once again, much to Giuseppe's dismay. He pulled out a black folder and threw it towards Giuseppe, who struggled to catch it. As the man flipped through the pages, the mobster spoke, "I hired someone and they found out that Domenico was giving away all of the family's transactions to the feds and the Grecos. However, I'm sure he wasn't the only conspirator involved in my father's death. This Vendetta was just a warning to all the others involved in that fateful night."
"The message was received loud and clear, Vittorio, believe me. Stop there before the Commission intervenes," Giuseppe pleaded. "Vittorio, what happened to your father was just...business. It's part of the job and he knew that very well. Move on, Vittorio... for your own good."
"Are you a messenger for the Commission or the Greco family, Giuseppe?" Vittorio asked seriously.
"You offend me, Vittorio," Giuseppe retorted sternly.
"You offend me and my father's memory by daring to ask me not to avenge the Grecos!" Vittorio exploded, slamming his hand on the table.
Vittorio stood up from the table with his gun and walked towards Giuseppe, holding the man's head and placing the gun pointed at his forehead.
"You, you lived with my father, you were his right-hand man...he treated you like a blood brother. And you, how dare you ask me not to seek revenge? I should shoot you right now for this audacity!"
"Vittorio, please..."
"Don Vittorio," called Rocco as he entered the office. He tried to disguise his surprise at seeing the boss about to shoot the most honorable man in the family. "The package has been delivered. We need to talk about some adjustments."
"Your visit is over, Giuseppe," said Vittorio, releasing the trembling man.
"Thank you, Don Vittorio," Giuseppe thanked as he jumped off the couch and ended up at the door of the room.
"And Giuseppe..." began Vittorio, forcing the man to turn around. "Send the following message to everyone: I want and will get the heads of all traitors and Tommaso Grecco on a silver platter. No matter what it costs me."