Salvatore Dalla Part 2

I realized he was the best for her, his harsh words echoing in my mind. She was right; she didn’t belong in this world of risks and death. I couldn’t drag her into my own misery, and thinking that way, even before I reached the house where I spent happy days with her, I returned to the hangar and flew back to Rome.
“You’re crazy,” self-pity snarled, pulling me back to reality and tearing my thoughts from the daydream. “I hadn’t even remembered that girl.” Speaking about her so impersonally hurt, but it was necessary for them to be quiet.
“Are you sure?” Fabrizio questioned. “Then why haven’t you scheduled a dinner with the capos to announce your engagement? Or better yet, why haven’t you been with any other woman since her?”
“Because I’m too busy; can’t you see? I don’t have time, damn it.”
“Or maybe it’s because…” In a swift motion, Rico lunged over the table, opened the first drawer, and pulled out the necklace I had given Amapola on her graduation day, along with the photo of us kissing. “Because you still haven’t forgotten her,” he finished, pulling the items out of the drawer and jumping away from me.
“Give me that crap back.” I stood up; he was so fast, or I was more distracted than I thought that I didn’t even notice his actions.
“Come and get it.” He waved the items in the air like he did when we were kids.
“Rico.” Fabrizio scolded him but smiled.
“If I reach you, I’ll put a bullet in your forehead,” I warned.
“As long as you improve that damn mood of yours, brother, I don’t mind being the punching bag this time,” he said seriously for a moment before quickly regaining his playful demeanor and shaking the items in the air.
I advanced toward him, but Fabrizio and Amadeu, who were watching the whole mess from their usual spot in the corner of the room, restrained me.
“Let me go, damn it.” In a swift gesture, I pushed the two of them, and they stumbled back as I advanced, but the three of them joined forces and held me together. I could easily handle each of them alone, but together, the three best fighters I knew, after me, made it impossible.
“Now you’re going to listen to us,” Fabrizio began after tying me to a chair.
“When I’m free, I’ll put a bullet in each of your heads.” I looked at Amadeu. “Your mother lost her husband; now she’ll lose her son. You can call her and tell her to start praying.”
“I’m sorry, boss. I’ve never been and will never be disloyal to you, but it’s because I see you sinking deeper that I agreed to make you listen to what your brothers have to say.”
“I’ll kill them anyway,” I warned, and he nodded.
“You know there’s an event in Palermo today, right?” Fabrizio started, and I nodded. “You’re going, not me.”
“Are you crazy?” I shook myself, trying to break free.
“We’re not, little brother,” Rico added. “You love Amapola, and since she left, you haven’t been living; you’re just existing.”
“I don’t have enough feelings to love, and you know that better than anyone,” I cut in. “I let her go because I wanted to, and because she deserves something better than I have to offer.”
“Oh, so it must be because you love her that you’ve put almost twenty men on her tail, right?” Rico spoke arrogantly.
“Salvatore, you’re throwing her into Marco’s arms. Our informants have said he’s getting closer and closer to her. Is that what you want?” Fabrizio questioned.
“Who put her to work with him? You idiots!” I growled angrily at their words, starting to force the rope binding me to the chair. I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was free.
“You said not to put her in anything related to the mafia; you wanted her in a clean job, and she was the one who chose Palermo. That was the best option we found,” Fabrizio explained.
“Very well, then! You thought putting her with the pretty boy, the honest one acting like a gentleman, was the best option?!” I spat the words. “You couldn’t be more idiotic.”
“I think someone’s feeling jealous, aren’t you, little brother?” Rico teased, and I lifted the chair along with me.
“Enough, Rico.” Fabrizio intervened, knowing he was crossing the line. “Salvatore, we want what’s best for you and for her too. Every time I talked to Amapola, she sounded sad. Her voice and her expression in the video calls lost all their shine,” he said.
“Just like you, she’s been working from the moment she wakes up until she goes to sleep. She’s about to break down just like you, brother. This tantrum, this distance between you, isn’t good for either of you. Can’t you see that?” Rico spoke seriously.
“And what do you want me to do? Prevent her from having the dignified life she’s always wanted? Bring her back into this world of misery and death?” I managed to free my hands and stood up, leaving everyone on alert.
“No, brother, none of that. None of the peace you two have fantasized about is worth it if you’re both already dead inside. That’s what we’ve been seeing; you’re dying a little more every day, and I say this not as your consigliere, but as your brother.” I brought my hands to my face, exasperated by Fabrizio’s words.
“I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do.” I took the necklace and the photo from Rico’s hands.
“Neither do we, brother, but go there and find out,” Fabrizio advised.
“Boss,” Amadeu called my attention.
“You too?”
“Just one more thing.”
“Speak.”
“One of my men said that Marco bought a ring this morning, and it’s exactly the right size for Amapola’s ring finger.”