The Don's Doctor

Barone's Uprising

Vincent's POV

Windows rattle with the force of the door slamming. The bundle of money on the floor seems to be judging me. I did the right thing. Clearly, she’s too good for me, too pure to be part of this world, or so I thought, before she nearly smashed the door off its hinges. Kneeling down, I intend to pick up the money, instead I find my thumbs digging into my temples. It’s the tactic I use to keep the red boarders at bay. Crouching in this position, I come to the realisation that I am angry at myself. Surprisingly, I’m angry at myself for making her angry, and worse, this has been the first time I have been able to chase my emotion to the source. I feel in control because of my new self-awareness. Pushing the epiphany to the side, I put the cash back in my pocket, and head upstairs to see my sister.

Every oil painting is judging me, as I stride towards our private living quarters. My father loved these paintings, investing in them over the course of his life. He enjoyed their message. A reminder to be moral as often as our world would let him be. There are no such opportunities anymore. My mother liked the paintings because she was deeply religious. Until the weekend she died, we all went to church every Sunday, we hadn’t been since she had been taken from us.

Viviana is in the nursery, strapping the harness to herself. Trying to notice what was different, it takes me a moment to realise that Valentino isn’t crying. His curious eyes are looking everywhere, and little bubbles of spit are soaking his chin and mouth, but he looks happy, and his fists aren’t clenched together like the usually are.

“The doctor gave me some advice. It’s working.” Viviana scolds me, as she goes to pick up her son, answering the question I haven’t verbalised yet.

“I’m going for a walk around the grounds. Chiara pointed out that I need to destress as well, a change of scenery from these four walls can only be a good thing for me and Valentino. Colic is one of those things, and it will go eventually, but me feeling like a prisoner in my own home ends today. No more interrogations, no more feeling trapped as if I have made a huge mistake. That might be your perception of your nephew, but my son is a gift that I needed at the right time in my life. Tomorrow, I might go baby clothes shopping, so that my son will wear one outfit that I chose for him myself.” She brushes pass me, as if I was a huge annoyance, and leaves me standing in the nursery shocked at what has just happened.

Annoyed as I am that I am losing control over my own household, with Renzo unable to stop the doctor wandering, and my sister deciding that she will no longer be following a single rule that I have put in place for her safety, I know exactly who is to blame: Chiara. I wish that I could hate her for it, and be glad that she has left, but I am amazed by her influence. I wonder if she has induced me to be more rational, because I have just let my sister walk away without raising one angry word at her. Perhaps she is the cure to what was ailing our family, if she is than I am already impressed by her results.

Vibrations in my pocket brings me back to the real world. There is no reason for me to speak, Renzo knows I will never leave myself open to the possibility of being recorded, so I wait for his summary.

“Quiet so far, but a few of our associates are saying that the smaller families have had a meeting this morning, and that Barone walked into it with the glass still in his face. All the bosses were seen shaking hands at the end, so it would appear that an agreement has been made. It was done in public so it is safe to interpret it as a message of friendship and alliance between them with their collective forces aimed at us. Talk on the streets is that recruitment drive has begun, with one thousand pounds being offered to anyone who joins today, but where that money has come from is unknown. I’m trying to get one of the more obscure soldiers to join, so we will have some reliable information shortly.”

There’s a few men I can think of that would be suitable for the responsibility of spying for us, and I would ensure they were paid well enough to accept the risks. After last night, I had memorised the names of the people we employed. It would have to be someone single with very little family, or family members who had been involved with us for a long time. This approach was another positive change that I could accredit Chiara with. Tullio had been impressive the other night, and he had no commitments that would cause him to hesitate feeding information back to us. I’d have to ask Marco to organise the practicalities of it. Tullio was from his network, and he could arrange ways to receive the information from him. They could meet at the safe house on boarder of mine and Barone’s neighbourhoods.

The more pressing issue is who is providing the money for Barone’s uprising? The serpent in our camp had camouflaged himself too well to be seen. If he was the banker for this rebellion, catching him would be easier. We would simply follow the money trail. My capos were paid well, I was a generous man mainly because it retained loyalty, but not well enough to pay out a thousand pounds for each turncoat. Our deceiver had made their first huge mistake.

“I’m still watching our person of interest,” Renzo continues, as if he knows my thoughts have strayed to her again. “She’s back at her works, but I think she is visiting her father, because she paid for parking rather than staying in the staff designated spaces.”

Smiling, I wish I could see the world as black and white as she did. Imagine being concerned about not taking advantage of a free parking space, because you went to work in a different capacity. The differences between our moral codes were vast, I would have parked in an ambulance bay, and given it no concerning thoughts. I guess I will be think it over from now on.

“Oh s**t…”

“What?” I answer without thinking, but it is the least of my worries.

“Our crystal studded friend just walked into the hospital. This isn’t the closest one to him, but how the hell could he know about her?”

“It doesn’t matter, get in there now and have your eyes on her at all times!” I yell, before hanging up.

Sprinting to the underground garage, I grab the nearest key to hand, and watch as the Ferrari surges to life. It’s a race to get the hospital and make sure she is ok. My heart is pounding erratically. Pure panic courses through my body, and I feed off it, urging it to transmute into adrenaline to get me to her faster. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to her, the guilt I feel is sickening.

I never should have made her leave the house this morning.