Chapter VI: Johnnie Walker
2170 Words
The cloudy night brought a twilight feel long before the sun was ready to set. The colors of the forest become less bright as if one is viewing them through dark glasses. The breeze has a dampness to it that wasn't there a short while ago; it's cooler and fresher too. Arcangelo didn't have to be somewhere yet, giving him plenty of time to daydream and admire the heavens above, brilliant shafts of light bolting through the ever-changing cloud layer.
The night-time falls like a film noir curtain, bringing spies from the shadows and the dames that shun the sunlight hours. From his window frame curls cigarette smoke, arcing lazily into the black. This isn't a city of starlight or moonbeams, it is cracking tarmac under storm-cloud and thick air drenched with the promise of rain.
The wind whistled through the trees during this time of night, the interior of the estate completely silent as most of the inhabitants were sleeping. The only sound that was actually there was that of the clocks ticking. That is until a soft note broke the silence.
That note, followed by another and another before a symphony was swimming through the air.
Arcangelo sat on the bench as he played away at the piano, his fingers dancing over the keys as the sound of the music brought a soothing, almost peaceful air, to the Mafia estate. Playing with one hand, he grabbed the glass with the other and finished the contents, placing it down on the surface again as he resumed playing.
"Want a drink?" Vincent's voice arose behind him.
"Yeah,"
"What do you want?"
"Johnnie Walker Platinum."
"Platinum coming right up." He murmured under his breath as he grabbed a fresh crystal glass from the decanter table, placing two ice pieces into it before pouring the amber liquid inside.
Arcangelo stopped playing as he turned around with his back against the grand piano. Grabbing hold of the glass, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees with the glass placed against his forehead.
"You look tired," Vincent noted as Arcangelo couldn't help but scoff at his words.
"I'm exhausted,"
"Then rest," He suggested as he took a sip from his amber liquid.
"Can't. Too many things to do,"
"That's what I am here for. Take the burden off you,"
"Nah, man. You have a family waiting for you every night. I don't want to take you away from them."
"Hey, if it wasn't for our friendship, I wouldn't have this family." Vincent rebuffed, raising his glass. "The only reason I fell in love with your sister was that I spent so much time around you and she was there all the time, and if it hadn't been for you, I'd be just like you. Alone, drunk, and miserable." He joked light-heartedly as Arcangelo gave him a half-hearted glare.
"I'm not alone." Arcangelo denied. "And neither am I drunk or miserable. I am very content with my life and it takes a lot more than one drink to get me drunk."
"Still, man. Don't you think it's time to dip your feet back into that pool?" Vincent inquired in concern as he leaned forward in his seat. "I mean, come on, it's been four years."
"It's not that simple."
"It is! Arcangelo, brother. Come on man, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known."
"That's the thing!" Arcangelo exclaimed. "I should have known! Because of my carelessness, my nephew suffered the price! He shouldn't have to pay for my sins."
"Arcangelo, it wasn't your job. It was Onof-"
"-Shut up!" He snapped before Vincent could complete his sentence. "Not another word! Not. One. Word."
Vincent closed his mouth and raised his hands in surrender, watching his best friend down the contents of his drink in one go.
They both sat in silence for a moment before Arcangelo rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache forming as he was trying to fit the pieces together in his mind, but something just didn't seem right.
"How is the girl doing?" Vincent asked in attempts to stir up a conversation. "I heard you left without security detail when you figured out they were targeting her."
"I couldn't risk being late." Arcangelo shook his head. "Not again."
His best friend nodded in understanding as another silence lapped between the two. Both of them finished their drinks as Vincent watched Arcangelo remove his blazer, followed by his waistcoat before he rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tattoo on his arm. Running a hand through his hair, he disheveled his tresses before leaning against the wooden surface of the grand piano at his back.
"You know," Vincent chuckled at a memory as he placed away his glass. "Alyna told me that guys become 'ten thousand times hotter' when they do that."
"Do what?" Arcangelo inquired with an amused smile.
"You know, roll up their sleeves." He laughed in response. "Girls find that to be quite the turn-on apparently."
They both laughed at the statement since they didn't do it to impress girls, they did it to allow more freedom for movement, but apparently, girls like it.
"Hey, want another drink?" Arcangelo asked as he stood from his place, grabbing his glass from the piano.
"Who am I to say no to Johnnie Walker?" Vincent smiled as he handed his glass over to him.
Arcangelo made his way over to the decanter, pouring two glasses of Johnnie Walker scotch with ice before returning back to the sofas. Making his way over to Vincent, he noticed a thoughtful expression on his best friend's face as he took the glass from him.
"What's on your mind, Vinnie?" He asked as he settled down beside him, taking a gulp of his drink, enjoying the swirl of taste across his tongue as he took out a Cuban cigar and lit it, taking a drag before exhaling into the air above their heads.
"Don't kill me," Vincent spoke slowly as he also lit a Cuban cigar. "But what do you think about her?"
"About whom?"
"Rosalie."
"What's there to think about her?" Arcangelo shrugged. "She saved my life and I got her in danger because of it and now that's she's in trouble, she's under my protection. It's purely business, Vinnie."
"No, it would have been business if she had something to offer you in exchange for your protection."
"She saved my life." Arcangelo scoffed. "If it wasn't for her, I would have been dead. I owe her."
"But all that aside, what do you think about her?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Like...I heard she is absolutely gorgeous. Is it true?"
"I don't know, man. I guess she's kinda pretty."
"Kinda?" Vincent scoffed in disbelief as he looked at his best friend disapprovingly. "Are you sure you're not secretly gay? Because if you were, I'd be pretty chill with it. Whatever gets your motor going."
Arcangelo looked at him with a deadpanned look before taking the cigar out of his mouth.
"Oh s**t, the secrets out, I'm hella gay for you, man," Arcangelo spoke jokingly as he leaned closer to Vincent making kissing faces as his best friend laughed and pushed him away, his face a light pink. Both of them chuckling as they leaned back in their seats, taking a drag from their cigars as the smell and smoke infiltrated the room.
They smoked in silence as they enjoyed each other's familiar presence, something calm and old between the rushed and dangerous lifestyle they led.
Arcangelo's mind swam with thoughts as he couldn't let it go, he needed to put the pieces together. It's been three weeks and he still couldn't figure it out..
Taking the cigar between his fingers he sat up as he rubbed his temples.
"I don't get it."
"What?"
"The Bandits," Arcangelo spoke as if though it were meant to clear everything. "They had the name before they had the face."
"What?"
"Look, they found out Rosalie's name before they had an image of how she looked or how she might have been connected to me. Someone must have tipped them off."
"Are you saying there is a mole in the estate?" Vincent asked to clarify as he also sat up straight, looking at his best friend in confusion.
"It's not possible." Arcangelo groaned at how it wasn't making any sense.
"How so?"
"I can't have a mole in the estate because I never spoke of her, I never took her name. Not to anyone." He stated as he opened his mouth to resume his sentence before a sudden thought struck him, the pieces fitting in. "I...I didn't tell anyone of her name...besides you."
"W-what?! You can't possibly be-" Vincent stammered in disbelief as he stared at Arcangelo's ice cold eye staring him down, his friend long being replaced by his boss. "You know I wouldn't! You know me! I would never do something against you!"
"Not deliberately."
"Deliberately? I wouldn't do it even if I was drunk! I would never betray you!" Vincent exclaimed as he stood to his feet, toppling the glass of scotch. "Arcangelo! Come on, you can't possibly think I would betray you!"
"I don't know, things have become very different since you got married." Arcangelo shrugged nonchalantly as he also stood up form his place, casually slipping his hands into his pockets as he walked over to the window.
"Arcangelo, you can't possibly mean that." Vincent chuckled humourlessly. "It's still me, I'm still Vincent, I haven't changed!"
"Are you sure? Because the Vincent I knew wouldn't disobey a direct order and go and almost choke the life out of an innocent university student--who, just so coincidently, happened to have saved my life."
"I couldn't have been sure!"
"But I was."
Vincent stammered over his words as he looked at his best friend in disbelief, not believing that he was actually accusing him of treason.
"Where did you go after I told you to go home that night?"
"What does this have to do-"
"Answer me, Vincent or so help me God for I will have your head mounted on a spike."
Swallowing thickly, Vincent thought back to that night before responding.
"Bar." He spoke in recollection. "I went to a bar to get myself a drink."
"And let me guess, one drink turned into several and you started babbling," Arcangelo spoke coldly as Vincent tensed, never having been on the receiving end of that voice and bone-chilling glare. "You started talking and somewhere in the middle Rosalie came up and all the wrong people heard about her."
"I-I-"
"You f*****g i***t!" Arcangelo hissed as he grabbed Vincent by the front of his suit, pulling him closer as he glared down at him, the anger tangible as Vincent didn't know how to respond. "Because of your foolishness, a young girl got marked! She is going to die! Only because she saved me!"
With his teeth gritted and eyes ablaze with fire, Arcangelo pushed Vincent away from him, causing him to stumble and trip over a folding in the rug.
"Get out!" He exclaimed at the man lying on the floor. "You're no brother of mine!"
"A-Arcangelo, calm down-"
"-You have given her a f*****g death sentence! An innocent! And we promised her to protect the innocent!" Arcangelo yelled as Vincent clambered back. "You broke that oath we made. Get the f**k out of my sight before I put a bullet through your head."
"Arcangelo, please, listen to me!"
"No!" Arcangelo growled. "Vincenzo Ettore Moretti, I, Arcangelo Iva-" He started to say when Vincent intervened by throwing the scotch in his face.
The suddenness having Arcangelo stumble back in surprise as he stood dumbfounded, his shirt covered by the liquid.
"I was in the basement bar! I was here! I talked to the other guys! I didn't mention Rosalie, I swear on Claudia's life that I never uttered Rosalie's name!" Vincent rushed out, his hands shaking as he stared at his best friend with wide eyes. "Please...please...don't sever ties with me, don't treat me like a stranger...Arcangelo...you know me..."
Vincent stared at his best friend with panic, never have imagined something like this to happen. An inaudible choke escaped him as he stumbled to his feet wanting to make things right between his best friend and him, knowing that Arcangelo deserved the truth. They were brothers in arm. Partners in crime. Two halves to one whole. It all just couldn't end like that.
Not in the blink of an eye.
"Vincent," Arcangelo growled lowly as he swiped his hand over his face. "Don't f*****g throw drinks in my face again. You know how much I detest it."
A forced laugh escaped Vincent as he stared at his friend uncertainly, fidgeting in his place, waiting for him to continue.
"W-what now?"
"Well, whoever is the snitch wanted me to suspect you," Arcangelo stated with a devious glint in his eyes as the other man swallowed thickly.
"What...What do you mean?
"Let's give him what he wants,"
- Writer
