1914
One year later

"Ah~ fuck~ Tae~ hmm~"

I dug my nails into the groundskeeper's back as the man fucked me on his old and creaky wooden bed.

Oh, what great fun it was to let loose and ignore the world for just a moment.

I rarely found myself in the muffy setting of the servant's quarters anymore, but every now and then exceptions simply had to be made.

I'd been up all night with a bottle of whiskey and a really good book, having a perfectly fine time until the damn book ended, and my night suddenly turned extremely dull. One thing lead to another, and before I knew it, I was on my back with my legs in the air as none other than Kim Taehyung, my extremely handsome groundskeeper, screwed the living shit out of me.

"Right t-there, yes... yes!" I panted, cocking my head back with a blissful expression as my desires were met so wonderfully well. "Hmm... fuck~"

"Moj aniol... it is midnight," Taehyung whispered in-between his grunts, trying his best to keep the squeaking of his bed to a minimum.

"Excellent... o-observation, mio amore."

The groundskeeper sighed and shot me a look. "Perhaps we should be a bit more quiet, no?"

I reached out to let my fingers graze my friend's cheek, where the soft hairs in his short beard tickled against my skin. I didn't mind the groundskeeper's new look. The facial hair made him look incredibly masculine, and it felt absolutely amazing when he sucked me off. "You want me to be quiet?" I asked, perking a brow at my friend. "Says the man who can cum just from hearing my voice?"

"It happened one time!" Taehyung groaned, pressing my legs further back to get at an even better angle.

"Once is e-enough, mio amore," I sighed, watching with a mischivous expression as the man drilled his cock into me.

The groundskeeper grabbed me by my waist and dragged me closer, snapping his hips with exactly the amount of force I needed.

It didn't take long before the both of us came, and I let out the filthiest, loudest, most obscene moan I could manage, just to tease him.

"You..." Taehyung growled, biting my shoulder and tickling my belly until I burst out into laughter.

"Who cares if they hear," I chuckled, curling up into a ball to hide from the groundskeeper's terrifying fingers. "It's not as though they don't already know about us. Besides, you always tell me they go at it like madmen down here."

Taehyung hummed and stroked his little beard, which was a habit he'd developed only after growing the thing. "That is true."

I remained curled up and hugged myself as the extacy of my orgasm faded away. I was still a little tipsy, but even the alcohol buzz was slowly cooling off. Who knew a whole bottle of Tennessee whiskey could wear off so quickly? "I'm returning to Calabria on Saturday," I said with a scratchy voice, blurting out the one thing on my mind. "I'll be there for a month."

Taehyung hummed, and I didn't expect him to say anything more about it than that. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand and handed me one, before slipping a smoke between his own lips as well.

"I think I might run away," I said after the groundskeeper lit me up, rolling onto my back. "To an island far out in the middle of the ocean."

"In the middle?" Taehyung asked, amuzing me.

"Okay, not in the middle." I took a deep drag and let the nicotine take over from the alcohol. "Maybe Hawaii?"

Taehyung nodded. "That does sound interesting."

"I'll learn how to surf," I went on, blowing clouds of white into the air as I imagined an endless blue sky above me.

"What about the sharks?" Taehyung asked, rolling onto his stomach. "I bet they'd scoop you up in one bite."

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "Alright, well, fine, where would you go if you had all the freedom in the world? What country would you visit?"

Taehyung pouted his lips in deep thought, before drawing from his cigarette with a pensive expression. "Greece."

"That is extremely random."

Taehyung's eyes widened. "No, I want to see the statues. The ones of the Greek Gods. It's fascinating, no? Such old art?"

"Oh, please." I sat up, taking one last drag before slowly expelling the smoke into the air. "Admit it, you just want to jerk off to those little weenies."

A smug grin curled the groundskeeper's lips as he handed me his ashtray. "Art must be appreciated, no matter how small, hm?"

"Idiot," I muttered, putting out my cigarette before rising to my feet and locating my nightshirt.

"I will be ambushed tomorrow at breakfast," Taehyung sighed, throwing his smoke into the ashtray as well. "I never specifically told Jin that I am a faggot."

"That is not a word you should use, Tae," I said, combing my hands through my hair to make it look like I hadn't just been fucked senseless in case I came across a maid.

"A gay," the twenty-one year old man tried again. "A lover of males. A homosexual. A cocksucke--"

"Yes, alright, you've made your point quite clear, thank you."

The groundskeeper stared at me with half-lidded eyes as I opened the door, looking tired from more than just life. "Goodnight, moj aniol," he murmured, sending me a soft, sad smile.

"Goodnight, mio amore~" I sang, shooting the groundskeeper a wink before fleeing into the quiet darkness of the hallway.

____________

I was in the back of my father's car with Anthony, driving to a location in Vibo Valentina no one would tell us anything about.

Anthony's father, Alcalmo, was sitting right next to my father, and the two men were going back and forth in Italian too quickly for me to understand. I started to wonder if it wouldn't be better for me to hire an Italian tutor, but that might spark controversy among the family members.

"How is school, piccolo Park?" Alcalmo asked out of the blue, looking at me through the car's rear-view mirror. "Anthony tells me you're doing well."

I smiled at Alcalmo, because my father always said that a smile could be a man's greatest weapon in the right situation. "School has been fine, sir. The both of us are excelling."

"I was thinking it would be nice if you could take Anthony under your wing every now and then," Alcalmo went on. "He's a wild boy. His mother says he has ADHD but that's fucking horse-shit. He just lacks discipline. A good beating always shuts him right up."

I could see Anthony dive into himself, and recognized the way his self-worth seemed to shrink in the presence of his father. Oh, how lovely it was to be raised by a crime-boss. How capable these men seemed to be at being parents.

My father parked our car in a rather poor-looking neighborhood. There wasn't a part of Italy that I could ever find ugly, but the place sure looked different from my father's luxury villa.

Anthony and I still hadn't been told what was going on, so I decided to brace myself for the very worst of possibilities. It wasn't likely my father would come to a place like this to make any sort of deal.

Alcalmo knocked on a door to a decrepit house, and I was beyond surprised to see none other than Gabriel open the door. He used to be a student back at Camp Corleone along with Anthony and I, until one day he stopped showing up, and Marco told us he quit.

It had only been a year since I'd last seen him, but the boy had grown into a proper young man, and was no longer obese.

"C-capo Park," Gabriel stuttered, the look of pure shock on his face telling me that this was an unannounced visit.

"Gabriel," my father said, shooting the man a smile. "It is good to meet you in person for the first time."

Gabriel seemed petrified, but he was rather quick to invite all of us into his humble abode. "Please, do come in. Mio amore! Prepare drinks, we have guests!"

Anthony and I sat down on the couch in silence after Gabriel guided us into his livingroom. Next to the couch stood a wooden cradle, where a tiny baby wrapped in blue lay squirming in it's sleep.

I smiled at Anthony, and the both of us couldn't help but melt at the child's adorableness. I didn't think I would ever make the greatest father, but the sight of a baby would never not turn me to mush. I reached out to poke the child's pink cheek with my finger, and when the baby wrapped it's sweet little hand around it, my entire world felt complete.

"Gabriel, I am here to have a serious talk with you," my father said as Gabriel's wife handed everyone a glass of lemonade.

"Yes, Capo, anything you need," the man said, looking beyond terrified.

Alcalmo and my father shared a look.

"We've come across rumors, Gabriel," Alcalmo said. "Rumors that say you made a deal to talk to the police. A deal that would bring you lots of money, in exchange for information about Camp Corleone."

"Capo, no!" Gabriel said right away. "Never! I would never do that. Camp Corleone taught me so much about myself. It taught me how to be a man! I have a market-stand and make enough money to support my family! We don't have much, no, but--"

"So my informants are lying, is that what you are saying?" Alcalmo said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Capo, I swear to you on my mother's grave, I made no deal. I never spoke to the police."

I had barely been listening to the conversation between my father, Alcalmo, and Gabriel.

Anthony and I were playing with the squishy baby, awwing non-stop at it's cuteness, until a loud bang went off, and I saw nothing but red.

The young woman screeched, but another bang silenced her, and the only person left shouting after that was Gabriel.

I didn't know what words the man was screaming and yelling, as the faint ringing of Alcalmo's gun had momentarily defeaned me.

Both Anthony and I were covered in blood, and there was so, so much of it.

The fifteen year old boy wouldn't move, and neither would I. It was only when the last bang shook the house, and Gabriel's body sank to the floor, that my father snapped his fingers to demand my attention again.

"Mio figlio, I want you to understand what has happened," he said. "Look at me."

I slowly turned my head to face my father.

"We are ninety percent certain Gabriel spoke to police about Camp Corleone. Ninety percent. Why do you think we still killed his family despite not being one hundred percent sure?"

I blinked excessively, the blood stinging my eyes. "To send a message."

"Esattamente."

"Alright, our job here is done, let's go back home," Alcalmo said, nudging his head for Anthony and I to get up off the couch.

When I looked at Anthony again, the hyper, cheerful boy that was once there was gone. Behind his eyes suddenly lay nothing but darkness, and as he wiped his face in attempt to clean himself of the blood, I knew that he would never feel truly clean again.

We got up from the couch and followed after our fathers, too afraid to speak, too afraid to breathe.

We had witnessed the desimation of an entire family, but neither of us could cry, because this wasn't a tragedy.

This was just another Thursday.