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Mistaken Identity	By : Kanashii Category: S through Z > The Sopranos Views: 1825 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Sopranos, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
The first two weeks were rough on both of them. They lived off the land
on the foothills and slept either in the car or in a small cave where they
built a cooking fire for warmth or to make thin simple soups and pasta or
salads. Furio would often have to run here and there into the town of Capua for
supplies and Aria was sure for other things as well. His shoulder was healing slowly and she knew
it caused him a lot of pain, he had gotten an infection in it, and all they had
left was about 6 days worth of left over antibiotics and minor pain pills from
Aria�s injuries. She too was still healing slowly and the cool nights and
cramped positions in the car were hard on her aching knee. Never once did either
of them complain though. She and Furio worked hand in hand to do what needed to
be done, at nights they would drink wine and he continued with her Italian
lessons. Sometimes he would come back with some fresh pork or meat from the
local town, but she knew he was running out of money fast. A few times he used
his own handgun to try and shoot some rabbits, and once he was able to shoot a
small yearling deer.
Both
were grungy, tired and achy not having any running water but a small local
stream, but yet their love for one another only grew with each passing day.
Many times they made love and embraced for hours or simply cuddled deep into
one another�s arms feeling the strength and love of the other. Nights would
sometimes be the worst though for Aria, for while she had indeed fallen in love
with Furio Giunta and was proud to be his wife, her dreams were often haunted
of her previous life. In her dreams she could clearly remember all the good
times with her husband and son and she often wondered what they were doing now?
She was certain Rick and her son was mourning her disappearance deeply.
One
morning she woke up in Furio�s arms, with his fingers running across her
cheeks, his eyes looking at her intently. �You are crying again.� his eyes
looked at her sadly but yet knowingly.

�What do you mean again?� she tried to play it down, tried to force the
recent dream from her memory.

�You cry many times in you sleep, Aria. Sometimes you call out in you
dreams at nights.� He said soothingly, not with his usual jealous tone.

She tried to shrug it off and turn away, �It�s nothing, you know I love
you Furio.� She said.

�I know that mia amore,� he
said gently not ready to let it drop, �But I also know that ghosts haunt you in
here,� he gently touched her heart, �and in here.� He touched her forehead. �I
not expect you to just forget you other family you had for 11 years. I know it
must be hard on you, I know you willingly chose to stay with me.� He pulled her
close, �and believe me I am deeply touched.� He kissed her and they lay back
quietly a few moments. �I have something
I must tell you.� Furio said levelly, �I promised you trust and so I will trust
in you. I have made contact with someone named Don Turi Buccilla; he is the man
in charge of this area, a rival to the Vittorio famiglia I used to work for.�

Aria sat up now fascinated by this line of talk from Furio; usually he
never discussed any of his underworld activities with her. Furio sat up also,
his arms balanced on his knees as he glanced up into the strong rising sun that
was throwing light over the wooded foothills near the great Mt. Vesuvius.

�Remember I told you, my father, Vincenzo Giunta, who worked for the
late Don Zio Vittorio was shot?� He continued. Aria nodded yes, but said
nothing. �Well, my father was a captain for Don Zio, and the Vittorio�s and the
Buccilla�s have always been in war over territory and such here in Naples.
There are many Don�s and clans and famiglia�s,
but Vittorio and Buccilla are the two strongest. I was around 17 when my father
was shot, he had wanted me to stay out of this thing, you know, the Camorra,
but when he was shot I swore an oath to Don Zio, I wanted to take revenge on
the Buccilla�s over what they did to my father. Believe me I got a lot of
revenge on the Buccilla clan.� He stood up and stretched then went over and
poked the fire back to life so they could boil water for morning coffee.

�So anyway,� he continued again as he squatted down near the fire,
bringing it back to life, � I work many years for the Vittorio�s as enforcer,
bodyguard for the old Don, whatever they want, you know. But now the Vittorio�s
they have turned on me, mainly because once Don Zio grew to old to function
well the famiglia passed on to his
daughter. She is stupido, runs the
clan into the ground.� He huffed a moment watching the flames leaping up on
some sticks he had added.

�You said Don Zio was your father�s brother, your uncle?� Aria asked,
�That means this Annalisa Vittorio is your cousin?�
Furio snorted roughly with a dark look, �Yes,
my cousin. A cousin I would happily put a bullet here,� he pointed to his
forehead, �As you can see, blood ties do not mean much with her, eh?� He finished stoking up the fire and came back
over to hunker down next to his wife as he reached over and pulled her over to
him to caress her body, �So, anyway, what I wanted to tell you was this. I made
contact with Don Turi a few days ago; he said he will see me at his home in two
days. I figure maybe I can get under his protection, maybe get place for us to
live, I need to start earning money, mi
amore, and I can�t do it if I am just sitting around out here, you know?�
Aria
just sat quietly a moment enfolded in his strong embrace, the meaning of his
words swirling around her brain like the smoke from the campfire. �Can�t you
maybe�� she began hesitantly, �I don�t know. Get a job doing something
different, anything that is not with the, you know�� she just couldn�t bring
herself to say the word �mafia� or �camorra�.
�Look
at me,� Furio turned her head towards him, �this thing, this life.� He sighed
deeply a moment, �One just doesn�t leave it. You can try, yes, but you are
always hunted then for things you have done in the past. One needs protection,
is just the way it always is. Especially here in Italy, the life is taken so
much more seriously than say in the U.S.� he stroked her face again, his eyes
almost sad for a moment, �If I could, I would leave it but if I do, I sign my
death sentence. I will have no protection then at all, no clan, no famiglia to watch my back. Do you think
after what happened with Malco that Annalisa would let it go?� his eyes grew
dark a moment, �Merde! She was ready
to give up her own blood to futtuto
Tony Soprano! No, I know how you feel about this, that you worry for me and
believe me I am deeply touched. But Don Turi, he is really our only hope in
this.�

Unconsciously Aria shivered a moment in his embrace; she still had
questions she wanted to ask him. Questions like how did he know Don Turi would
not just kill him outright for past transgressions? Or worse, turn him back
over to Annalisa? But, she knew these were the kinds of questions that Furio
had no answers for and perhaps did not even know himself. A part of her wished
and hoped that they could have gone anywhere, surely there had to be somewhere
in Italy, or in the world that they could disappear to. But she also realized
that Furio was going to do what he had to do. He understood this life, the
risks, the intricacies and she knew nothing about it. She was sure he must have
thought the same questions as she had. After all, Furio was so very protective
of her. She knew he must truly feel there was no other way, than talking to
this Don Turi Buccilla.

She forced a strong smile on her face then, she had promised to be his
partner, had asked for his trust and he had just given it to her with this
intimate information. She had to respect that and believe in him. �Ok, Furio.�
She nuzzled against his neck. �I will wish you the strongest of luck; I am at
your side no matter what. You know that.�

The rain had been falling steadily now for nearly two days, they had no
more food and both of them were nearly out of everything. She sat shivering in
the small cave and watched him as he dug out one of the few clean sets of
clothing he had left. He had tried his best to clean up in the icy stream and
the falling rain. �I still look like crap don�t I?� he tried to laugh lightly,
�I going to see Don Turi looking like a slob, not good first impression, eh?�

�Nonsense.� She assured him, Furio had forgotten his own comb so Aria
sat behind him brushing out his hair and then tying it back for him in the
tight but neat ponytail since it hurt his shoulder still to move his arm over
his head. �There, almost good as new.� She said.

Furio held up the switchblade that Malco had used to stab him, �Think
you good enough to give me a shave with this and some soap?� he asked hopefully
as he had two weeks worth of scruffy beard growing on him.

�No! Assolutamente no!� she
chastised him in Italian. �We�ll end up slicing your face, silly!� she reached
over and grabbed his wrist to stop her stubborn husband who was about to try
anyway.

�Hey, hey!� he held her off with one arm, �No get the clothes dirty!� he
half teased playing back with her, �I look bad enough, I not need to get mud
all over my only clean set of clothes, eh?� he tried to look stern but he
winked at her none-the-less.

�Well when you get back, maybe we will find new and creative ways to
wrestle and get dirty.� She hinted with a sexy and seductive look.

�Donna malefica!� he cursed
her lightly and playfully, �Why you do this to me now?� he grabbed her and put
her in a gentle headlock, kissing her, �Why you get me all eccitare? Get me all hot and passionate, eh?�

�Because.� She relaxed in his hold breathing in his essence, feeling the
strength of him against her as he held her strongly in his arms. �I want you
back safe and sound to me, what did you call it? Salvo?�

�Sano e salvo.� He said and
gently released her, �Safe and sound, yes.� The serious look returned in his
eyes. �I promise you, I come back safe. I not leave you alone.� He dug around
one of the suitcases and pulled out both the guns. �I cannot take any weapons
with me when I go; it would look disrespectful or worse. You hold these, stay
here in the cave, you see anyone come up here who is not me you shoot them
without question. Not even holler out. Man, woman or child you shoot them.�

She picked up the gun for a moment and looked a bit frightened. How
could she shoot a child? Especially if it was just an innocent person walking
around up here?

�Promise me, Aria.� His voice was hard edged, �Assassins here not like
you see back in the U.S. Here anyone is open game to be a killer. Man, woman or
child is how it is with this thing, here.�

She just nodded, �Ok, Ok I promise.� She slid the gun into her own
waistband, it felt far too cold, alien and heavy around her waist, not
comforting at all.

�Little one,� Furio stopped a moment before ducking into the rain, his
grey eyes piercing into her soul, �It going to be Ok, yes? Have faith in me.�

�I do mi marito.� She said and
ducked back further into the cave to wait patiently for his return. Except for
praying there was nothing else she could do.
Furio
had run through the rain and down the hidden Mercedes and started it up. He
glanced in the rearview mirror, �I do
look like shit,� he thought, �I can
only hope Don Turi sees that I am indeed not planning to kill him.� with a
shake of his head he put the car in gear and drove over the winding roads to
the elegant estate that Don Turi owned. What Furio had not told Aria was that
already over the last two weeks he had been talking with Don Turi�s underboss,
already working hard for negotiations for this meeting. If he would have just
driven to Turi Buccilla�s home they would have shot him dead. After all, it had
been Furio who had shot Don Turi�s second son in retaliation for the attempt on
his father Vincenzo. Things like this had to be approached with the finesse of
the finest diplomat.

The windshield wipers beat out a rapid tempo as he pulled down the gravel
driveway leading to Don Turi�s huge farm and estates. Already he could see
several bodyguards with luparas, the
favored modified and deadly shotguns, from Sicily. Three of the guards pointed their weapons at
the car, and Furio shut down the engine, his hands in the air.

They opened the door and one motioned him out while the other two patted
him down roughly from head to feet. �Alright, let�s go.� They motioned to him
once they were satisfied that he was not carrying any weapons. He was lead to
the foyer of the elegant house and inside he already saw the underboss he had
been dealing with, Salvatore Casertano.

�Furio,� the heavyset middle-aged man greeted him with a warm hug, �How
are you doing? I have worked hard to set this up; Don Turi is indeed intrigued
you have come to see him.�

�I thank you for that Salvatore, you are the one who has done so much
for me, and I am indebted to you no matter what.� Furio nodded.

�Our blood ties go way back the Giunta�s and Casertano�s. Your mother of
course was a Casertano before she married your father. I would be remiss in my blood family
obligations if I didn�t at least try this for you. Now come, let�s go talk to
him.� With a thick hand still on Furio�s shoulder in a friendly way the shorter
man with sharp eyes lead him down a to a room that was near a set of elegant
doors that lead to an outdoor garden with an arbor that had grapevines entwined
in it and spectacular views of the foothills and Vesuvius in the distance. Even
on this murky, foggy and rainy day the view was breathtaking.
But
Furio�s sharp eyes had already spotted the man he knew so well, who had for so
many years had been his enemy and the hated enemy of the Vittorio clan. Don
Turi Buccilla. He was a very unimposing man indeed, in his early 70�s with a
bit of a paunch and almost gentle eyes, a thick mustache and wavy grey hair. He
was not dressed in wealthy clothing, but in the simple dress of a hunter or
farmer.

�Furio Giunta, son of Vincenzo, come let me see you face to face.� The
older man spoke to him with an almost grandfatherly voice.

�Don Turi Buccilla.� Furio hugged him gently and then respectfully
kissed him on the cheek. He moved not a muscle as the older man cupped Furio�s
face and gazed deeply into his grey eyes. Furio could tell the older Don had
the slight clouding of cataracts in his brown eyes, but Turi�s eyes were still
as sharp and nimble as the most lethal lion, this was a man used to ruling, a
man who ran his famiglia and clan
with an iron fist and viciously defended what was his.

�You are the one who killed my Carlino,� the Don said referring to
Furio�s execution of his second son, �the one who was Zio�s best shooter and
tracker.�
Furio
knew better than to say anything to Turi�s statement, there was no answer expected
and anything he would say would only seem patronizing. What was done was done;
he could only hope that Salvatore Casertano had convinced Don Turi that Furio�s
intentions now were true and honest ones.

�Salvatore has told me about you in the last few days, has told me your
tale.� The old Don finally released Furio�s face and pointed him to a leather
couch. �Come sit, we will talk.�

�Thank you for your hospitality Don Turi.� Furio said and sat with an
uncomfortable hesitation on the fine leather couch, painfully aware he was
dripping wet and probably looked like some Neanderthal caveman. He looked about
almost helplessly and felt bad about getting rain water on the fine furniture.
His large hands trying to hesitantly catch any dripping water.

�Look at him Salvatore!� Don Turi nodded to his underboss and began
laughing, �the man doesn�t know whether he will even leave here alive and yet
he is worried and ashamed that he is too shabby for my house, that he drips
water on my couch!� the old man began to laugh in deep belly laughs now.

Furio knew this was the move that broke the ice, he was safe, and he was
not going to be killed, at least not now. Don Turi must truly be willing to
give him a chance. Furio knew that Salvatore Casertano had probably already
told Don Turi the entire tale Furio had told him, but still Furio told the tale
again. Told how he had been sent to America by his cousin Annalisa to work for
Tony Soprano, had returned back here, and had been turned on by his old clan
and had killed Malco.

�Bah!� the old Don snorted with disgust as Salvatore began serving them
all wine, �The Soprano�s, the Soprano�s, they are shit, they are nothing. Their
line here is dead, such a weak link they have with the Vittorio�s. My father
remembered Corrado Soprano�s father and he was a useless fuck as well!�
Furio
could not help but chuckle at this, Corrado Soprano was indeed a useless fuck,
as was his nephew Tony. �The states, they have their government now all
cracking down on the famiglia�s over
there, it is almost as bad as when Mussolini cracked down on the Sicilians. �Our
thing� in the states is a dead horse, it is a waste.� Furio shook his head.

�I know, I know.� Don Turi drank deeply of his wine, �It�s why more and
more of our immigrants are setting up in Canada and South America. But, I know
you have more to discuss than just the current state of affairs of �Our thing�
in the states.� Don Turi leveled his gaze at Furio, and Furio could feel the
power of that simple stare. �Do you know why I even agreed to see you at all,
Furio Giunta? Do you know why I did not just have my men kill you instantly in
retaliation when you stepped out of your car?� the old man asked plainly.

�No, Don Turi.� Furio said and he unconsciously felt his blood chill. He
had thought it was because Salvatore Casertano had put in a lot of good
information on him, but he was now thinking it was something far deeper. Some
karmic fate coming back around to him.

�You know Enzo Garasi?� Turi
nodded at him over his wine glass.

�Yes, Enzo, he was dear friend of mine in the states, and his mother
Marie and his sister Sophia.� Furio nodded.

Another smile broke out on the old man�s face, �Enzo Garasi is my
godson. He is under my protection as would my own flesh and blood son�s be. I
sent him to the states about two years ago to get out of this war with Annalisa
Vittorio. Enzo says that you had helped him and his family with money and that
you personally took care of him and many others from Naples on that small
street there in New York.�

Furio could not believe this news he was hearing, that Don Turi was
Enzo�s godfather. �He never told me.� Furio said and knew it sounded stupid the
minute it came out his mouth, but he was so shocked at this news that he didn�t
know what else to say.

�And if he had?� Turi asked him.

�No difference. I took care of him because he was a fellow Neapolitan,
he was a countryman. All of us were illegal immigrants; we had no one else to
turn to.� Furio said in a low almost sad voice. It still pained him how rudely
and almost slavishly that he and other immigrants from Italy were treated by
the arrogant and stupid famiglia�s in
the US.
�Zips, they called us. We were cannon fodder for their petty
idiocies to keep them safe from the law.� Furio kept his temper in check. �Enzo
was in Carmine Lupertazzi�s territory, I didn�t want him or the others caught
up in that nonsense between the Lupertazzi�s, the Castellano�s or the
Soprano�s. Why should they be caught up for something they had no stake in?� Furio
downed the rest of his wine hastily.

�Easy Furio,� Don Turi soothed him a moment, �I know, and that is the
reason I am listening to you now, to your story. Believe it or not, even when
you were my enemy I had a lot of respect for you. Both your father Vincenzo and
Don Zio instilled in you a deep respect of the old ways. You are hardened, yes.
Cold blooded, most definitely. But you were one of Don Zio�s best men, his top.
Why were you never made a capo?�

Furio shook his head again almost embarrassingly, �It wasn�t something I
wanted. I was an enforcer, a soldier. I always preferred to trust in others, to
be in the shadows protecting those I believed in�� Furio halted as his own
innermost realizations seemed to smack him as hard as a fist to the gut.

�And you are here now, because?� Don Turi asked again with that inner
fire and sparkle in his eyes. He was ten steps ahead of Furio, and Furio knew
it.

�Because I have nothing to believe in now, no one to protect, no famiglia I can respect. But even as an
enemy, I always respected you.� He said
slowly, almost hollowly.

�Yes, I know.� Turi said and motioned to Salvatore to refill his and
Furio�s wine glass.
�You would give your life for me
now, wouldn�t you Furio Giunta? If I told you to jump into Vesuvius over there,
to save my life, or Salvatore�s life you would do it unquestioningly wouldn�t
you?� It was not an insulting or sarcastic question, but a brutally honest one
that Furio already knew the answer to as well.

�Yes, I would do it.� Furio looked into the Don�s eyes without
flinching.

Don Turi chuckled briefly and held up his glass toasting Furio.
�Salvatore tells me you have a wife, an American woman. I want to hear that
tale too.�
And
Furio told him the honest truth about Charlene/Aria as well. When he was done
with the long tale he felt drained both physically and emotionally. This man,
Don Turi was as skilled as any inquisitor and Furio felt he had explored parts
of his own soul and heart he had not dared to ever realize. It was as though
Turi Buccilla knew Furio better than he knew himself.

�And you protect her too, don�t you? As fiercely as you did Don Zio, as
fiercely as you have everyone else, eh?� Turi smiled and began to light up a
cigarette with hands that trembled slightly with age. But Furio saw no weakness
in the man, none at all, to him he was one of the strongest men he had even
been in the presence of, perhaps even rivaling Don Zio Vittorio at the height
of his power.

�Yes.� Furio just said. What else could he say?

�Look at me Furio Giunta,� Turi said almost gently, brown eyes meeting
grey eyes, heart reading heart, soul touching soul. �If I asked you to kill
your cousin Annalisa, you would do it and piss on her body and dance on her
grave wouldn�t you?�

�Yes,� the grey eyes burned with a dark and angry intensity that was
unmistakable, �Yes I would.�
�Still
as fiery as ever you are.� Turi drew deeply on his cigarette as he glanced out
behind Furio to the view of his garden and the vistas beyond. �You are indeed an
enforcer and assassin at heart, a bodyguard supreme. I would not ask you to be
something you are not. I will take you in Furio Giunta.� The old Don swung his
intelligent gaze back to the disheveled man on his couch. �Your price for
admittance to my famiglia and my
protection will be Annalisa�s death, you realize this?�

�That is one favor and price I will do for you gladly Don Turi.� Furio
held up his glass to the Don, �A favor that will make me a happy man also.�

�Salute,� the Don sealed the
negotiations with the traditional toast.

�Salute!� Furio and Salvatore
spoke at the same time, returning the toast.

�Now, Furio my new enforcer and assassin, we talk business.� The Don
switched easily into his mode of calm but iron rule. �Just because you are second
cousin to my underboss, Salvatore over there, grants you no special favor with
me. Any favors with blood ties are between you and him.� Furio just nodded at the Don�s words, he knew
that was expected. The Don would owe him no special favors until Furio had
proven his worth to Don Turi personally in the favor he had asked of him.

�Good,� Turi continued. �I give you a six month time frame to do my
favor for me, to take out Annalisa; you do it unsanctioned and unofficially
from me. But it will be done.�
Furio expected this as well. It
would be ridiculous for the Don to officially sanction this execution order or
put any other men on it, it would start an all out bloody war, and there was
already enough petty war between the Vittorio clan and the Buccilla clan. In
fact only Annalisa�s death would open a possibility for future peace between
the two clans, too much blood and vendetta was in the air between them now.
�Of
course,� Furio nodded but said nothing else.
�I
understand when you were younger you worked on some of Don Zio�s farms? What
skills you have there?� Turi asked as offered a cigarette to Furio.

Gratefully Furio accepted and lit up, it had been ages since he had a
good smoke and it relaxed him immediately. �I worked the grape fields and also
some of the gardens, helped make wine when it was time for that. When the
growing season was slow I would work for the rich tourists taking care of their
stables and horses, handyman work, whatever needed to be done.�
Don
Turi nodded seeming deep in thought a moment. �Salvatore says you and your wife
have no place to stay, and perhaps understandable after what just happened with
Malco. As you know I own over 200 acres of prime land here, grapes, orchards, I
even have horses you can clean the stalls if you like.� Turi laughed but again
it was not an insulting gesture, but the gently teasing of one who was
impressed with a future apprentice.

�My cousin who cleans horse shit and garrotes the enemy, what a
combination!� the heavyset underboss had a rich laugh, with Don Turi.
Furio
let them have their fun in breaking his balls for awhile, in many ways it felt
good to be teased, it was not like the rude teasing of the Soprano�s crew, it
was the gentler teasing of true blood ties and a clan he knew would protect him
with their life once he had proven himself to them. Unlike Tony Soprano whom he
had proven himself over and over to and never received one iota of protection
or even a simple thank you. So he good naturedly smiled and chuckled along with
them at his own expense.

�You have good sense of humor, Furio Giunta.� Don Turi finally calmed
down after a few minutes, �Too many men take themselves far too seriously.
Their foolish pride can get them killed, but I also know you are no one�s fool
either.� He once again studied the man who had killed his son, but there was a
definite respect in the old man�s eyes, the way someone might appreciate a fine
oil painting. �I have a caretakers/guest house that is not being used at the
moment; it is fairly deep in the property here, near the western orchards.
Fully furnished, it is not bad.� The Don paused, �You and your wife can live in
it and you can pay for your board by helping out here on my farm and estates.
This gives me and my men time to study you as well, to keep you close here��
Turi pointed to his eye.

This did not bother Furio either; he knew he would be watched closely,
kept an eye on by Turi�s men. One did not accept a former enemy lightly into
their clan and famiglia.
�I am grateful again for your
hospitality, Don Turi.� Furio inclined his head. �You have been most generous
and you have my undying loyalty and oath. I swear this to you on my life, and
the life of my wife Aria.�

Now it was the Don who was deeply impressed and nodded thoughtfully. It
was a dear and steep oath Furio had just laid out at Turi�s feet. He had
basically given the Don permission to kill him and Aria if at any time the Don
felt Furio was not living up to his expectations, and unlike in the states,
such oaths were taken with deadly seriousness here. �I believe you, Furio
Giunta.� The Don stood up as did Furio and they both embraced once again. �You
go get your wife, move in tonight. It is raining out there, and I don�t need
you dripping all over my house.� He said with a twinkle in his eyes.

�Thank you, I will Don Turi� Furio nodded as Salvatore began escorting
him back out.

�He likes you, Furio,� Salvatore Casertano said once they were near the
foyer, �You are safe under his protection for now.�

�Thank you Salvatore for this favor. That is several I owe you for now
as well.� Furio nodded.

Salvatore patted him on his uninjured shoulder, �And I will put that
talent to use, Furio, and I am not talking about farming, eh? In fact in a week
from now I have two jobs I will need you to do, enforcements for people who owe
me money, we will see how you repay me then.� But Salvatore�s pudgy eyes were
also smiling in a kind way; he knew Furio would do a damn fine job of
enforcement. �Now,� Salvatore pulled out a thick wad of money, �I would be
remiss as both underboss and your second cousin if I did not give you some
advance to help you set up your home,� he thrust a large chunk of the money
into Furio�s hand, �and this�� he waved the other half of the large cash wad,
�This is your wedding present, so don�t say I didn�t take care of you, eh?�

�Thank you Salvatore� Furio gave him a hug as well. �Oh by the way��
Casertano spoke up while still in Furio�s fierce hug, �I like that Mercedes
that Malco had, you sell that to me, yes?� he winked.

�Yes, yes!� Furio laughed, �When I come back I sell it to you for 10
euros�

�Bah! Just 10 euros?� Salvatore looked at him.

�Eh, it�s a piece of shit, ever since Malco owned it. But maybe for you
it will be a good car. For me, it is a piece of junk.� Furio winked slyly at
him. The insult to Malco was clear in the crude banter.

Both men laughed at the joke, �Someday Furio, you will learn that
sometimes an enemy�s possessions are the sweetest of all.�

Furio just shook his head. �Not for me, Salvatore.� He put one hand on
Salvatore�s shoulder, �I don�t like ghosts in my life, just tangibles that I
can deal with head on.�

�Turi knows you well Furio.� Salvatore inhaled deeply, nodded and backed
up a bit almost out of respect. �You are not a man to ever be underestimated.�

Furio leaned in close and whispered to Salvatore�s ear for him alone,
�Ah but you see, Don Turi is wise and realizes this. However, Annalisa she has
underestimated me severely.�

At that moment one of the guards came over with a set of keys in his
hand, �This is for the guesthouse.� He said and handed the keys to Furio, �When
you come back with your wife, we will show you where it is.�
Furio barely remembered the drive back to
the cave. His heart was light, his soul was even lighter. Things would be Ok
now, he knew this. He now had a new famiglia
and clan to protect him and he had been able to keep his word to Aria. They
would be safe for now.
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Mistaken Identity