When I shot Emilio in the head under the pressing gazes of my peers, I barely felt anything other than the usual shredding of my soul. It wasn't the rebirth I imagined it to be. And I didn't suddenly feel like a new person, freed from the many burdens on my shoulders.

I suppose I just didn't hate Emilio enough to be impacted by his death.

Killing him was just something that had to be done. A chore. Another body thrown onto the pile.

Emilio was gone now, but at least I had finally given him what he'd asked for so many year ago.

A quick death.

I tucked my gun into my pants and swallowed thickly at the sight of the stableboy's dead body.

I wondered if he'd felt succeful in his revenge at the end. If he thought he'd punished me enough for my existence over the course of the years we'd spent together. A part of me hoped ruining me had given him at least some satisfaction, but it probably hadn't.

My father grabbed my shoulder and gave it a squeeze, before pulling me into full hug and patting me on the back. "You've done it, mio figlio. All your hard work. It lead you to this moment."

The crowd around me dispersed and the capos began to talk amongst themselves. Two younger boys hurried to drag Emilio's body out of sight, and were most likely tasked with making it disappear.

I looked at my father and nodded, but couldn't help but wonder what the man saw when he looked at me.

The pale, sickly shade of my skin? My narrow, malnourished frame? The dark bags beneath my lifeless eyes?

No, I supposed he didn't see any of those things. My father only saw my sharp suit, and my smoking gun, and all the dead bodies behind me on my path to glory.

"Come," my father said, walking us away from the others. "I have to tell you something."

I glanced back at Camp Corleone for a moment, the place where so much had died, and felt a bitter taste in my mouth at the fact that I was free from it now. I had finally graduated. It was over.

"I had a talk with Alice and her parents," my father said, his fingertips pressing into my back as he guided me exactly where he wanted me to go. "They think it's about time you two get married."

"What?" I asked, blinking rapidly. "But..."

"I know you're not twenty-five yet, but this girl wants you very badly, mio figlio. Giving her time to change her mind would be ludicrous. There aren't many good Italian girls who would consider someone like you, you know that."

"Someone like me... meaning a criminal or an Asian?" I blurted out, both because I was genuinely curious and because I wanted to be spiteful.

"Both," my father said, his tone warning me to behave myself. "I asked her if you managed to please her in the bedroom."

I snapped my head to my father and nearly tripped over my own feet. Of course he would do something so invasive. Why was I surprised? This was my father I was talking to.

"She didn't say yes right away. Leading me to believe your bedroom skills are... lacking."

"What else did you expect..." I murmured, though I didn't mean to sound as disrespectful as I did once the words left my lips.

My father was quiet for a moment, which was a bad thing. "Meet me at this address tonight," he said after a while, handing me a shiny business card, and rubbing my shoulders.

"What kind of event is it?" I asked, scanning the card's back and front. "A meeting? A job?"

"Nothing serious," my father said, looking be up and down. "Nothing concerning the family."

The man licked his chapped lips, and evaded my confused stare. "Just be there at eleven."

____________

I'd never been to a whorehouse before.

I'd heard men mention such a place every now and then, but it just seemed like another heterosexual thing I would simply never understand. Something I didn't have to understand, like periods and boobs.

Whorehouses seemed disgusting to me though, and not just because of the heterosexual behavior typically occuring inside of them. I didn't like the idea of treating women as objects to use. Perhaps it was because I couldn't lust after their bodies like a dog after a piece of meat, but I just... didn't like it.

"Hello? I'm supposed to meet my father here," I said, carefully entering the smoke-filled room. Women walked past me with flirty gazes, and tried to yank at my arm to tempt me. The few men in the establishment glared at me, as though I'd stepped into their territory and threatened to take every woman in there for myself.

There was an older woman who wasn't as scantily clad as the others, and approached me with squinted eyes.

"Your father's name?" The woman asked, sassily crossing her arms over her large chest.

"Park," I answered softly, straightening my back to seem confident in this hellish club.

The woman's eyes lit up as though she suddenly recognised me, even though we'd never actually met before. "It's you!" She said, loudly clapping her hands. "Follow me," she ordered, signing me along with her manicured finger.

"Anna, Janett, Bella, Cecilia, Lia!" The woman yelled loudly, bursting into a room at the back of the establishment.

This room was filled with even more smoke, but I could still see six beautiful young women sitting on the floor, naked, but decorated with the finest jewelry and make-up. They flaunted off their bodies and smiled up at me, but I didn't know where to leave my eyes. Why on earth did my father ask me to meet him here of all places!? What if Alice found out I'd gone to a place like this?

"I'm sorry, but could you place take my to my father, signora?" I said, the smoke making me lightheaded and dizzy.

"Your father isn't here, cutie," the grown woman said, chuckling at me like I'd said something funny.

I blinked, my mind feeling artificially slowed. Was this... was this what I thought it was? Were these girls... for me? Was this room for me?

I didn't waste time asking another question, and made a quick leap for the door, but the thick smoke had turned my limbs to jelly. My legs failed me and the tall, older woman could easily block my way. I fell against her, and she gave me a light push that sent me falling into the arms of the six naked women.

A sea of hands grabbed hold of me, dragging me under and constricting me in every way possible.

"N-no... no.... n-no s-stop..." I slurred, shaking my head left and right.

The older woman lowered to her knees and showed me some kind of white pill, before slipping it between my lips and making me swallow it.

"Your father told us you fear being intimate with women," she said in a soft tone. "So tonight, my girls will show you all the secrets of the female body. They will make you very acquainted."

"Don't... don't do this to m-me... please," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes as my vision blurred.

"It's okay," the woman said, ruffling up my hair with a chuckle. "That pill you just took will make you forget most of tonight. But I can guarantee that you won't be afraid of your fiance anymore. This is your medicine, capo Park, so be a good boy, and take it."

_________

Gaining my consciousness back wasn't as simple as a lightswitch turning back on.

My mind ebbed in and out of reality and all I got were flashes of my surroundings that made no coherent sense.

The whorehouse, the streets at midnight, bloodied hands, a lifeless man at my feet, another lifeless man at my feet, the groans and cries of some other man I'd never met, Gonzales catching me and pressing me into a tight embrace...

When I woke up in my own bed, I was met with my old caretaker's worried expression. Light brown eyes which had seen unspeakable things, blinking down at me with unmistakable sympathy.

"Capo," Gonzales said with a scratchy voice, sitting by my bed as though he'd been right there for hours. "How do you feel, hm?"

I struggled to push myself up, and winced at the pain in my knuckles when I used my hands.

"You went on a rampage," Gonzales muttered under his breath, though I never asked him anything. "Three men are dead, but your father is taking care of that as we speak."

"I don't... I don't remember," I said, cringing at how dry my throat felt. "Gonzales, I don't remember anything..."

The truth was on the tip of the older man's tongue. I could see him ache to tell me everything, but we both knew that doing so would be suicide. "How do you feel?" The man asked me. "Do you feel... different? More like-- like a man?"

What was that supposed to mean?

How was I supposed to answer that?

"G-Gonzales--"

"Ah, congratulations on becoming a made-man, sir," Gonzales said, giving me a curt smile. "It seems you got drunk with Anthony last night and celebrated a little too much."

My eyes fluttered. Drunk? I got drunk? I did feel like I was having the worst hangover in the history of hangovers, but, the amount of alcohol I would have had to drink for me to feel this way had to be an overdose.

"You've worked so hard for this," Gonzales said softly. "It all paid off in the end, I suppose."

My bedroom door was suddenly slammed open, and none other than Anthony rushed into my bedroom. His shiny red hair was styled perfectly, and he wore an olive green suit that not many could pull off as well as him. "Capo! Are you okay?" He asked, panting like he'd been running.

I swallowed thickly, and shared a quick glance with Gonzales.

"You got absolutely wasted at the club last night," Anthony said, rushing to my side. "I lost you in the crowd but Gonzales called and told me you made it home safely."

"Oh," I said, my skepticism fading away completely the moment Anthony backed up Gonzales's earlier statement. It definetly wasn't out of character for me to throw back one too many bottles every now and then. I probably did make a fool out of myself last night. My dependence on alcohol started to feel like an addiction.

"Fuck..." I sighed, shaking my head at myself. "That's it-- I'm going sober."

Anthony nudged my side and giggled. "Yeah, and I'm gonna be the future king of England."

"Uhu? And who's gonna be your queen?" I asked, jokingly pushing the man's shoulder.

"You, obviously," Anthony jested, taking me into a head and arm joke like we were a couple of wrestlers in a ring.

I pushed the man out of bed and we landed on the floor with a thud, kicking my legs and swinging my fists as hard as I could. "Need I remind you I killed three men last night you fucker?"

We laughed like children and wrestled until we were red-faced, pinning each other down only to escape again. I never noticed Gonzales leaving the room, but it was just Anthony and me now, joking around like idiots.

After a while we were both too tired to keep going and laid side by side on our backs, panting like crazy. "You know, Gonzales asked me if I felt different when I woke up."

"You mean more annoying than usual?" Anthony asked, earning him another punch to the gut from me.

We giggled for a bit and sighed contently, but were still too hot and tired to start fighting again.

"I feel better... than I did before," I sighed, combing through my sweaty raven locks.

"Maybe it's your graduation?" Anthony asked. "I sure feel different too."

I hummed, feeling at peace with my life in a way that almost didn't feel natural. "I suppose so..."