A Debt to Fate

Luca's heart thudded loudly in his chest as he walked beside Carlo, each step feeling heavier than the last. The words the boss had spoken echoed in his mind: Once you're in, you're in. The weight of those words sat like a stone in his stomach. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist, a gift from his father that had always felt like a part of him. He remembered his father's weathered face, always steady, always strong.

But now, Luca wasn't so sure. Was this really the life his father would have wanted for him?

But as he walked closer to the car, the cold reality of his family's situation struck him harder than ever. His mother, his little sister, and Enzo all depended on him. He had just lost his job, and there was no way to pay the bills. The thought of letting them down was too much to bear.

He reached the car, the door creaking open as Carlo slid into the driver's seat. Luca followed, the weight of the decision pressing on him, but there was no turning back now.

Carlo started the engine, and the car roared to life. The streets passed by in a blur, the sound of the tires on asphalt a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Luca's heart. Carlo kept his eyes on the road but glanced over at Luca after a few moments.

"So, where you from, kid?" Carlo asked, breaking the silence.

Luca shifted in his seat, trying to steady his nerves. "I live over on Thornhill Avenue, near 32nd Street."

Carlo's expression softened, and he let out a low whistle. "I used to stay there when I was about your age, I think. Small world, huh?"

Luca turned to him, surprised. "Really? I never knew anyone else around there."

"Yeah," Carlo replied with a small, nostalgic smile. "Used to run with a different crowd back then, but that's a long time ago. Before things got… complicated." He shrugged, his gaze turning back to the road.

Luca nodded, absorbing the unexpected bond forming between them. For the first time, he didn't feel like an outsider. Carlo wasn't just some intimidating stranger; he was someone who'd lived a similar life once, someone who understood.

They didn't speak much more as they continued the drive, the cityscape passing by. Soon, the car slowed down as they neared their destination, and Luca could feel his pulse quicken once again. They were approaching the Barzoni's territory.

The car stopped a few blocks from the docks, where a massive warehouse stood at the edge of the water. The scent of salt and oil wafted in the air, mixing with the harsh sounds of trucks unloading crates. The area was buzzing with activity, and Luca could see the Barzoni crew moving quickly, unloading what appeared to be a massive shipment.

Carlo turned to Luca. "Alright, kid. I need you to go take a look. See what you can figure out."

Luca hesitated. "But… What if they see me?"

Carlo grinned. "That's why you're just walking by. You're not looking for trouble, just taking a little stroll. You'll blend right in. Don't overthink it."

Luca nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He stepped out of the car and made his way toward the warehouse, trying to appear casual, though every step felt like a mile. As he walked closer, the scene became clearer. Large crates were being moved into the building, and men were shouting orders. Luca's eyes darted over the scene, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary—just the usual hustle and bustle.

He kept walking, trying to act as though he didn't have a care in the world. When he reached a corner, he casually peeked around, looking for anything that might indicate what the Barzoni's were really up to.

At first, he didn't see much. Just crates, crates, and more crates. But as he tried to move closer, a sharp voice called out from behind him.

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

Luca froze, his heart skipping a beat. He turned around quickly, putting on his best confused expression.

"I… I was just looking for work around the block," Luca stammered, his voice shaky. "I thought this was the place that was hiring."

The man eyed him suspiciously, his hand resting on the gun holstered at his side. "This is no place for a job, kid. Get outta here."

Luca quickly nodded, trying to act nonchalant. "Right. Sorry, didn't mean to bother you." He backed away, walking briskly towards the street.

"Keep moving," the man called after him.

Luca didn't need to be told twice. He hurried back to Carlo's car, his mind racing. As he slid into the passenger seat, he let out a shaky breath.

"Did you see anything?" Carlo asked, looking over at him.

Luca nodded, though his stomach was in knots. "Yeah, they're moving a lot of crates, but I couldn't tell what was in them. It seemed like a normal shipment, but there were a lot of people around. I don't think they were just unloading cargo… it felt like something bigger was going on."

Carlo raised an eyebrow. "Something bigger, huh? Well, it's a start. You did good, kid."

They drove off in silence for a while, Luca's mind still reeling from the close call. But as the car pulled further away from the docks, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

Luca and Carlo drove back to the apartment in silence. The hum of the car engine filled the air, but inside Luca's mind, the noise was deafening. Today had been the hardest day of his life—losing his job in such an explosive manner weighed on him. He glanced down at his father's watch, the ticking a reminder of the man he aspired to be and the man he feared he was becoming.

When they reached the apartment, Carlo parked the car, and the two stepped inside. They walked up to the boss's table, where the man sat with his usual air of authority, sipping from a small glass of whiskey.

Carlo gestured to Luca. "Go on, kid. Tell the boss what you saw."

Luca swallowed hard, steadying his nerves before he began. "I saw them moving a lot of crates, sir. Looked like a big shipment. There were men everywhere, and they were keeping a close eye on things. One of them caught me snooping, but I told him I was looking for work. They bought it and told me to leave."

The boss leaned back, a faint smirk forming on his face as he listened. "Hmmm. You sure about what you saw, kid?"

"Yes, sir," Luca replied, his voice steady despite the knot in his stomach.

The boss turned to Carlo. "Alright, Carlo. Take Salvatore, Marco, Enrico, and Gino with you tonight. Head over there, see what's what. If it's as the boy says, make sure that place goes up in smoke. And I mean smoke. We can't have the Barzoni dogs sniffing around our business. You hear me?"

Carlo nodded. "Got it, boss." He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

The boss turned his attention back to Luca, his piercing gaze softening slightly. "You did good, kid."

"Thank you, sir," Luca said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

The boss raised an eyebrow. "Tell me something, boy. Why'd you decide to give us a call? You could've walked away from all this."

Luca hesitated, then spoke honestly. "My family, sir. Things have been hard for us lately. I lost my job this morning, and we've got bills piling up. I didn't know what else to do."

The boss's expression darkened. "Where were you working?"

"Angelo's Sugar Factory," Luca replied.

The boss let out a dry laugh. "Angelo's, huh? That means your boss was that stronzo Giuseppe Russo, am I right?"

"Yes, sir," Luca said, surprised the boss knew his manager.

"That prick." The boss's lip curled in disdain. "Fired you, didn't he?"

Luca nodded.

"Well, don't worry about that piece of trash. I know the owner of that factory. I'll give him a call. You'll have your job back by tomorrow. That's a promise."

Luca's eyes widened. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much."

The boss opened a drawer, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and counted out a thousand dollars. He handed it to Luca. "Take this. Call it an advance. Per i nostri futuri sforzi insieme—for our future endeavors together. You're a good kid, and fearless. I like that."

Luca hesitated for a moment before accepting the money. "Thank you, sir. Thank you very much."

The boss smiled faintly. "Go on now. Tell your mama I said hi."

As Luca turned to leave, the boss's voice stopped him. "One more thing, boy. This address stays between us. You're a smart kid, so I know you understand what happens if it doesn't."

Luca nodded, his heart pounding. "Yes, sir."

"And remember," the boss added, "you go back to the factory tomorrow. You'll get your job back. If we need you for anything else, Carlo will come find you at work. Alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." The boss waved him off.

Luca stepped out of the building, the cool evening air hitting his face as he made his way to the nearest bus stop. The day had been a whirlwind, from losing his job to being pulled deeper into a world he didn't fully understand.

As he boarded the bus and found a seat, he stared out the window, clutching the thousand dollars in his pocket. Relief and unease battled within him. The money would help his family, but the cost of earning it left a heavy weight on his conscience.

His father's watch ticked steadily, a reminder of time moving forward, no matter how uncertain the path ahead seemed.

Luca stepped off the bus and walked the short distance to his home, his father's watch ticking softly on his wrist. As he pushed the door open, the smell of dinner lingered faintly in the air, though the table was bare. His mother looked up from where she was seated, her hands idly kneading a dishcloth, her face lined with worry. Maria and Leo sat nearby, Maria helping her younger brother with some schoolwork.

Luca entered with a faint smile, trying to mask his unease. "Mama, I've got some good news." He pulled out a wad of bills and placed it on the table. "I made some money today."

His mother's eyes widened. "Dio mio, Luca! How did you get this much?" she asked, her voice a mix of joy and suspicion.

Luca chuckled nervously, avoiding her gaze. "Just some work I picked up. Don't worry about it, Mama." He quickly changed the subject, handing her a portion of the money. "Here, take this. Buy some groceries tomorrow. We need to stock up."

She hesitated, glancing at him. "Luca, I'm happy, but... are you sure everything's alright? You're not—"

"Everything's fine," he interrupted, forcing a reassuring smile. "I promise, Mama."

He turned to Maria and handed her another portion of the money. "This should cover Leo's school fees. Make sure he stays in school, okay?"

Maria's face lit up. "Luca, this is amazing! Thank you."

Even Leo smiled, a rare moment of relief breaking through the family's usual struggles. The mood in the house brightened, but Luca's mother watched him closely, worry etched on her face. She said nothing more, but the questions lingered in her mind.

Later that evening, as the family settled into their nightly routine, Luca sat in the living room, staring blankly at the old television. The local news flickered to life, and a stern-faced reporter began:

"Breaking news from Barzoni territory. An explosion late last night at one of their warehouses has claimed the lives of several men. Authorities suspect foul play, though no suspects have been identified. The Barzoni family has declined to comment."

The image on the screen switched to the smoldering remains of a building, firefighters still dousing the scene.

Luca's stomach churned, and his breathing quickened. His hands clenched the armrest of the worn-out chair as the reality of what he had gotten involved in hit him like a freight train. The men who had died—the families affected—it was all because of the information he provided.

His heart raced. What have I done? The thought looped endlessly in his mind. He tried to convince himself it wasn't his fault, but the guilt wouldn't let go. Every decision since that phone call weighed on him like an anchor pulling him under.

The next morning, Luca awoke after a restless night. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep, but he forced himself to get up and prepare for work. His family needed him to keep it together, no matter how heavy the burden felt.

As he arrived at the factory, Luca expected the worst. His boss, who had fired him the previous day in a fit of rage, was standing outside the building, chatting with some workers. To Luca's shock, the man's face lit up when he saw him.

"Luca, my boy!" the boss said, spreading his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. "How was your night? It's good to see you."

The sudden warmth felt jarring, almost surreal. Luca forced a smile and nodded. "It was fine, boss. Thanks."

"Good, good," the boss said, patting him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get you back to work."

As Luca stepped inside, a chill ran down his spine. It was clear what had happened—Carlo must have paid the boss a visit after their conversation. The sharp shift in the man's behavior was proof enough.

Luca glanced at his coworkers, some stealing quick glances at him but saying nothing. He couldn't tell if they pitied him or feared him. All he knew was that things were different now. The mafia's shadow loomed over his life, and there was no turning back.

Luca worked through the morning at the factory, his mind still plagued by the events of the previous day. Though he tried to focus, every sound, every sudden movement made his heart jump. When the break bell rang, Luca grabbed his jacket, eager to step outside for some air.

"Hey, Luca!" his coworker Matteo called out, catching up to him. "Let's grab something to eat at the deli down the street."

"Sure," Luca replied, forcing a smile. Matteo was one of the few people who had always been kind to him, and Luca figured some company might ease his nerves.

As they walked down the narrow street, the midday sun beat down, and the aroma of fresh bread wafted from the nearby shops. Matteo chatted away about work and his plans for the weekend, but Luca's responses were absentminded. His thoughts were elsewhere, replaying the explosion news and the eerie warmth of his boss that morning.

Just as they approached the deli, the roar of an engine drew Luca's attention. A black car sped toward them, its windows rolled down. Time seemed to slow as Luca noticed the gleam of a gun barrel sticking out.

"Matteo, get down!" Luca shouted, but it was too late.

The first shot rang out, then another. Matteo's body jolted as two bullets struck him squarely in the chest. He collapsed forward, his weight slamming into Luca and pinning him to the ground.

The shooter's car sped off, tires screeching, leaving chaos in its wake.