Mafia's Beloved One

It was supposed to be a quiet weekend evening. Aldo sat alone in a chair in the corner. The champagne and oysters on the table remained untouched, just as they were served an hour ago. The sound of the piano moved slowly through the air. The melody seems different today. It is not a famous tune, but it always feels familiar, and Aldo thought he had heard this melody somewhere before.   Glancing up at the stage in the distance, Aldo was able to make out the figure of a young boy. The pianist is not tall but thin against a grand piano. Perhaps because of the light or the atmosphere, Aldo thought the player looked like Gino somehow, who is already dead.   "Oh, it's time to go," a burly, middle-aged man in a black suit told Aldo, gesturing to a watch on his wrist. " It is the family dinner time tonight, with your Mafia brother -- Ronald."   Aldo stopped watching the vague figure of the piano player, turned his head and glanced at the clock, then got up from his seat reluctantly. The man in the suit behind him put on his coat and got ready to go out to get his car.   "Wait a minute," Aldo said, taking a pen out of his coat and writing down some numbers on paper and handing it to the man. "Give it to the pianist on stage."   The man in the suit took the paper and found Aldo’s phone number on it. There was an undetected smile on his face. It's been over six months since Gino's death and it's the first time he's noticed that Aldo is showing interest in other men.   Sensing the smile, Aldo did not deny that he took an interest in the pianist performing on stage -- maybe because of the music or just the figure in dim light. Aldo looked up at the moonlight out of the window with a foreboding that it would not be a peaceful evening.   Aldo's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the crash of a glass breaking, followed by a noise that didn't match the sound of a piano. Aldo followed the chaos around him. A blond man with a familiar face-- oh, he is George, the leader of the fraternity.   "Eat this fish and you'll join the fraternity." George pushed the plate forward.   "Please, George, anything but that. I'm allergic to seafood." Pleaded the boy sitting opposite.   "I know, so I've got this for you. Just eat it. It's okay."  George pulled out an allergy shot and placed it on the table, smiling smugly.   "Please, George, it will kill me."   "What a coward." George got impatient and grabbed the glasses and plates from the table and threw them at the poor boy one after another. The noise caught the attention of others in the restaurant. Everyone looked looked at them at the same time, and the piano stopped.   "Excuse me, sir, I'm afraid you have to leave if you won't stop it now." The restaurant manager stepped in to stop the chaos.   "Oh, really? Are you going to ask him to leave?" George took out a wad of dollars arrogantly and threw them into the air. The bills fluttering on the air just like green butterflies.   "Sir, I think you'd better listen to him and behave yourself," Aldo said, slowly walking up to George, picking up a $100 bill from a soup with his finger and,  to the surprise the crowd, holding the bill to George s mouth and speaking slowly, "Keep your mouth shut."   "Who the hell are you?" George, apparently angered by the insulting gesture, grabbed Aldo by the collar and tried to punch him in the head.   "Show your respect! " Suddenly, out of nowhere, a dozen burly men in dark suits and sunglasses surrounded George with guns. They seems to shoot at any time. The guests ran in all directions with screaming, causing the restaurant to go haywire.   "Be quiet!" One fired a shot into the air, and the restaurant fell silent.   "You... Who the hell are you?"  George immediately gave up and his voice shook.   "Oh, George, you wouldn't want to mess with them!" Another boy, who also looked like a frat boy, shook his head. "I know them. They're all from the Honor, the most famous Mafia group."   "Apologies to Aldo, now!" A black man took a step forward, loaded the g*n, and pointed it at George's head.   "All right, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Come on, man... Calm down... Put the g*n down, will you..." George was already stammered with nervousness.   "Good, you look like a s.hit now." Aldo patted George's cheek with a disdainful smile. Aldo pointed the money on the table. "You've got this," he said, then gesturing to the g*n held to George's head, "but I've got this. Your money will teach you to be a jerk and my g*n will teach you to be a gentleman. A smart person would choose to be a gentleman rather than a jerk, right?"   George nodded, and his shirt soaked with sweat.   "Well, it's getting late. I will go." Aldo straightened his collar and the Mafia pulled back their guns and lined up. Aldo turned around, gave the crowd a sign for forgiveness and walked away as if he were a gentleman. As Aldo approached the door, he was reminded of the boy playing the piano. Aldo wondered if the pianist has been disturbed by the chaos. Then Aldo looked for the boy and found that on one was on the stage.   "The pianist must have run away in fright." Aldo didn‘t stay and stepped to the car.   "Are you going home, my dear Aldo?" The driver asked.   Aldo looked out of the window at the moonlight. The moon was slowly enveloped in a dark cloud. His heart were wrapped by some sad memories, and things that he had tried to forget were slowly coming back to him.   "Go to the Recoleta Cemetery."   The driver followed Aldo's order and drived into the night. At the same time, a mysterious boy gave an order in the dark: "Fallowing Aldo's car."   The mysterious boy is the piano in the restaurant just now. He has given up his tuxedo and is now wearing a sumptuous, traditional Japanese outfit.   The pianist looked like an Asian but more hybrid. He has black hair and eyes with a unique Oriental cold and mysterious atmosphere, but the distinguished nose of the face are as delicate as a Greek sculpture. The mysterious pianist is like a traditional Japanese drink, pickled with cherry blossoms. But he is more like ordinary salted cherry blossoms soak in freshwater while melts into a cup of solid Scotch whisky. The light flavor of cherry blossoms and the spicy flavor of whiskey intermingle, tantalizing and alienating.   The pianist's surname is Fujiwara, a Japanese surname.   "Master Fujiwara, are we driving behind Aldo's car all the way?" "The driver in the front seat asked in accented English, but he is a middle-aged Japanese man.   The piano boy, known as Master Fujiwara, thought for a moment. "No," he said, "Just take a shortcut to get the cemetery first and wait for Aldo."   "Yes," said the driver, a little puzzled, "how do you know he's going to the cemetery?"   Fujiwara looked down at the note with Aldo's phone on it and smiled playfully.   Fujiwara has made the plan and everything was under his control.   Fujiwara knew everything about Aldo, from Aldo's favorite piano melodies to the frat boy test, and knew how to lure him to the bait.   But why did Fujiwara do this? Because his only little brother, Gino, had died six months earlier. According to the autopsy report provided by the medical examiner, Gino had apparent gunshot wounds, but the police attributed the death to a traffic accident and hastily closed the case. No one dared to investigate the case because it involved the Esposito Honor, the largest local Mafia organization in New York. Aldo is the second power-holder from Esposito Honor.   Like the earliest Mafia groups, the Esposito family's ancestors were Italian immigrants from Sicily. They first gained power in New York, Chicago, New Orleans and elsewhere, and then made a fortune in the 1920s by manufacturing, smuggling, and selling alcohol during Prohibition.   The Esposito family is the largest and most powerful of the five Mafia families after several struggles and splits. Unlike the other four families, the Esposito family was headed by a very famous young man named Ronald Esposito. He is only in his thirties, but is known for his decisive and cold manner. It is said that he never made a deal with anyone or was threatened by any organization. As Ronald used to say: "I do only two things: I make a deal with God and I send people to make a deal with God." If there's one person who can shake Ronald's cold heart, it's his younger brother, Aldo Esposito.   When the car pulled up at a cemetery outside New York, Aldo did not get out. He sat in the back seat and lit a cigarette. Aldo rolled down the window and stared at the tombstone in the distance. It has been more than six months since Gino's death, but he still doesn't know how to face Gino's departure in a particular manner, let alone how to visit Gino's in the cemetery.   What is the relationship between Aldo and Gino? A friend? A classmate? A brother's lover? These questions didn't go away with Gino's death, and they only intensify.   Staring into space, Aldo suddenly saw a young boy in a kimono.   Aldo frowned. It seems to be a traditional dress that people in Japan wear, and you could see people in sushi restaurants wearing similar clothes. The  kimono boy carried a bouquet from one cemetery to another, looking for the gravesite of a deceased loved one. Aldo realized it was raining when two men dressed in traditional Japanese clothing walked behind the kimono boy, carrying two large black umbrellas.   "Are there any Japanese buried here?" Aldo was curious.   "No, Aldo. Only Mafia families are buried in this place." The driver replied, "The only Japanese is Gino, but Gino has already changed his name when he died and been buried in the family cemetery as Ronald's lover, so there will not be other Japanese here."   If so, why is a Japanese appearing here? Aldo was trying to remember Gino’s past. Aldo has the vague impression that Gino was being challenged by a fraternity brother when he first met Gino because of his slightly Asian appearance. They became friends when Aldo stepped in to help. Gino seems to have mentioned in a few words that he is a mixed-race person. Gino's father is American, and his mother is a Japanese.   As Aldo pondered, a harmonica wafted up through the damp air in a familiar melody.   "Look, Aldo, it looks like those Japanese stopped at Gino's gravestone."   Aldo looked in the direction the driver was pointing. That's where the harmonica came from. The harmonica melody, and the piano melody in the restaurant, are all familiar. Where ever was this music heard?   In a flash of lightning, the mysterious kimono boy turned his head to reveal half his face. "Gino!" Aldo exclaimed. “Gino! He is Gino!"   The kimono boy smiled approvingly at Aldo's shouts as he hurried away under a black umbrella.   "Wait a minute," Aldo shouted, rushing off the car. "Who are you, who are you?"   As if by magic, the boy was gone by the time Aldo arrived. Aldo looked at the flowers and the harmonica in front of the gravestone. Aldo picked it up and found the note he left in the restaurant for the young pianist.   It turned out they were the same person. The mysterious kimono boy is the pianist in the restaurant.   "Shall we go after them?"   "No," laughed Aldo as he looked at the rain-stunned note, "it looked like someone was playing a funny game with me. I happen to like playing games, too."   "So, where are we going next?"   Aldo pocketed the note, extinguished a cigar in his hand and said: "Go home."