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blessing to this vile union. If you love me or my son you will annul this marriage for our peace. If you insist on keeping the uomo…you lose a son and grandchild.”
    “You are cruel to say that. I am still grief-stricken over Carlo’s mama, she would not want you to do this!” she shouted.
    Giuseppe scowled. “Do not ever speak about her…do not ever bring her into this.” He shook with such venom he had to exit the car for fear of an explosion. He slammed the door. He heard her piteous wail as he stormed to his car and entered.
    “ Do not do this figlio…I beg of you…do not hurt me more !” she had screamed but he closed the sounds of her pain out. His derision showed in a snort, he had chosen his son’s safety over a mother.
    “Va ora!” he shouted to the driver.
    Not a tear was shed over his decision. His mama could scream like a banshee but until she acquiesced, Carlo would not visit. An Israeli Mafiya consorting with Viyachov was apt to bring poison into their house. Viyachov and his father were rivals. Their feud over a shipment of arms had been long standing. He remembered only snatches and pieces of what occurred, it had happened so long ago, but he did recall his father’s abhorrence of Viyachov. Matteo’s uncle filled in the missing parts since he was present during the exchange.
    Apparently, Viyachov accused his papa of attempting to receive more weapons by alleging he had been shortchanged. Matteo’s uncle said twenty crates of armaments were due but upon delivery there were only eighteen. Yosef had brokered the deal and was paid handsomely. Viyachov denied the accusation despite the bill of lading which clearly showed the numbers.
    His father recognized a conspiracy and had planned to eliminate both men. His papa never liked being taken for a fool. Luzo quickly intervened to broker an agreement, the terms were simple, return the difference of the weapons Carlo had not received and in exchange the Sicilians would refrain from waging war over pettiness. Reluctantly, Viyachov agreed. The men existed in a truce of sorts, but his father was not one to easily forgive. Giuseppe recalled the occasional rants whenever the Russian sought to do business in Sicily. His father refused any further dealings with their lot. Giuseppe supposed this was why he maintained an aversion to the Russian Mafiya.
    The year after this problem with the Russians, a Sicilian Don was apprehended in America for heroin trafficking in what the law enforcement officials termed The Pizza Connection. The network stretched from Sicily to America. During the coordinated crackdown on the operation, internal fighting among Sicilian criminals began. Those involved in the trade seized the opportunity to go after rival factions for control of smuggling and distribution. The timing was ripe for insurgents to rise. The height of the killings began when word reached Sicily that the Don on trial in the United States had cooperated with law enforcement. In exchange he requested immunity from prosecution and placement in their Witness Protection Program.
    Giuseppe’s stomach whined as the car rumbled across an uneven section of a strada. He scoffed at the reminder he had not eaten and missed his mama’s food. Then his thoughts returned to the feuds of violent men.
    The upheaval set about by a rat resulted in shifts of power. His father was not involved in the drug smuggling business, his position remained unaffected. Giacanti’s are not solely mobsters; they’re royalty’s heirs. His father’s illegal activities consisted of money laundering, loan-sharking, and a host of other crimes. His trash collection company was the legitimate front. There wasn’t a necessity to engage in drug trafficking. He had enough money. Besides, his father once said the drug franchise is for the scavengers; those who eat their young. He was right.
    Prostitution he found harmless if a woman was of legal age and chose to become an entrepreneur of her flesh.