Gun fire.  Lucy woke to the sound of a single shot shattering the night’s peace and it took a full heartbeat before she realized the person who had fired the weapon was in her bedroom!  Lucy leapt from her bed and onto her would-be assassin.

She wrestled the gun from the masked man, punching him once and again.  He struggled and she screamed for her bodyguards who should have heard the gunfire – but they were likely outside on the grounds; after all, who would expect someone inside the home!  How did this guy get past them at all!?!  Lucy feared she had a traitor within her home, but could not let her mind wander to who as the hitman threw a punch past her head and then slammed another into her gut.

The punch was low – fearfully so.  The desperate man must have known she was pregnant – that meant the villain was close to her household… maybe even from within her family.  Lucy doubled over protecting her womb and the man sprinted off into the night; pursued by her bodyguards.

“Frank…”  She called out softly.  “Frank?”  She wept alone on the floor until Angela came running in.

“He left an hour ago when Godfather Varys called … he said not to wake you Ma’am.” 

Lucy nodded.  So – this was something after all.  Something Frank and Varys thought small, but clearly wasn’t.  “Call Tina.  Tell her I need her in early, right now actually.”

“Are you okay?  Did he hurt the baby?”

Lucy shook her head no.  “I’m fine.”  She pulled herself to her feet, the pain abating.  She could hear Katy waking and crying.  “Go see to Katy.  Get her up and dressed.  Let her eat if she likes – I’ll call Tina.”

Tired stared blankly forward as the details of Varys’ death were laid out before her. The words ran together until they almost didn’t make sense at all.  The man before her was speaking English and yet somehow it was impossible to understand.

“Miss Lucy?”  Spider_Sal tilted his thin face to the side.  “Lucky?”

She blinked and swallowed. “Yes.”  She answered weakly and drew a steading breath.  “Thank you for your report Sal.”  She said a bit more confidently.

Spider nodded and put his hat back on, excusing himself to catch a flight for New York. 

“Lenny?” 

The young man ran forward.  “Yes, Ma’am?”

“You and Angela – take Katy and a small bag of her things.  Head for the safehouse and call my grandfather.  Tell him it may become necessary for Katy to come to him.”

“Ma’am…?” Vito stepped forward. 

Lucy held up a finger, knowing Vito would insist they take Katy.  “Take every man loyal to Frank and find him.  For now, your only worry is getting me my husband home safe.”

“Frank’s orders are: my only worries are you and that little girl.”

Lucy swallowed back her rage – she had no time for this age-old debate, “Vito, I know you want to follow Frank’s orders – you’re a good man.  But please, right now I need you to be a good brother-in-law.”

She stepped up to the man and put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard while staring intently into his eyes, “That man just told us that the Godfather Chairman of Chicago is DEAD and his number one hitter… my husband, is yet unaccounted for – something about which I’m sure Geordie is doing everything he can, right NOW.”

“Now – in about five minutes or so I’m going to have men and women knocking at that door asking me what they’re supposed to do, and if we’re at war.”  Lucy put on her father’s cufflinks.  “Do you REALLY wanna be the only one in the room unwilling to follow my orders?”

Vito considered and flatly replied.  “No Ma’am.”

She nodded, silently praising god that for once he was willing to listen to reason.  “Good.  Now bring my husband – my best gun – home so I can put him somewhere useful.”

“Tina!”  Lucy called out to her personal assistant as Vito left the room. 

The blonde bombshell ran into the room with her notepad at the ready.  “Ma’am?”

“Get a message out to our people on the street – anyone allying with Geordie is the enemy of Chicago.  The rogue known as Geordie has two ways this ends: either he comes to me and explains his actions, for which he’d better have one hell of an explanation, or the might of every gun in city is coming for him.”

Tina wrote quickly.  “Got it.”

“Secondly, get every hand in the city on the phone and inform them of what we know… I want all Crew Leaders under protections and informed that we are at war – they need to take all the usual precautions.”

Tina nodded.

“Lastly – get the Godfather Chairman of New York on the phone for me.  If Geordie or his people decide to run I want our friends knowing that we’d appreciate a hand in taking him down.”  Tina nodded one final time and went to work.

Lucy walked over to the window of Alderly Estate and looked out across the sprawling lawn into the darkness and the unknown.  It might be hours before she could do anything that felt remotely useful.  Now – for the sake of everyone – she had to wait for more information.  Without anything better to do, she quietly said prayers for the dead until Godfather Kassidy was on the phone ready to speak to her.

“THIS ENDS NOW!”  Lucy slammed her fists down on the broken table causing it to tremble.  “To the man who brings me the dead body of the man we knew as Geordie – I have this!”

From the outside she was sure her appearance was that of a temper tantrum to some of the people in front of her – but Lucy was past the point of not caring, well past.  Several Godfathers were dead, and many other good men and women with them… Lucy would have this asshole’s head for her mantle or she would join them.

Sineya cautioned not taking her tirade to the streets – there were places for planning and execution of plans; but Lucy wanted this monster to know what it felt like to be hunted as the victims of his crimes felt.  She wanted the terrorists to know the same terror that she felt not yet having heard where her husband was or if he was even still alive.

In the last few hours Lucy had received no less than six offers to join with other crews – some of the Crew Leaders were respected men and women whom she would have been honored to serve… and perhaps that was the better plan for longevity; but she had run from Vegas when she was left in the wake of that devastation – and she had allowed Arya to send her off to live with the enemy during the siege of Philly… she had power now.  She could do something now – she would be damned if she crawled away to hide tonight.  THIS was her home.

“TEN MILLION DOLLARS!”  Lucy called out above the din of the crowd of mobsters as she opened a briefcase to reveal the most money she’d carried anywhere for any reasons.  Some laughed at her impending doom – literally naming a known rogue as her enemy and putting a bounty upon him, but most – most of them cheered. 

“Legend!”

“Bad Ass!”

“So much for Spineless!”

The last made Lucy smirk.  She knew what at least one very vocal detractor liked to shout often enough about her – that she’d left Arya like a coward and wasn’t worthy of leadership because of her lack of loyalty and courage.  The ironic part of that was, at times, she felt that the woman who hated her so much was right.  Maybe she could have done more when Arya made her last stand.  Maybe she should had defied her friend and gone down with her – but she hadn’t and there was little point in lamenting what one couldn’t change now.  All she could ever hope to do is to live in such a way that made her worthy of her friend’s memory.  Tonight – this – she hoped was some small measure of that.

Men and women poured out of the building and into the streets, hunters pointed at their prey.  Ten million was almost every dime she had to her name – but if she didn’t stop Geordie it wouldn’t matter.  She needed every gangster in the six cities hunting this monster; not just the ones with honor or scruples.  Ten million would make some mothers consider turning on their own sons and so, that’s exactly what Lucy would offer.

Lucy closed the case and looked to Sineya.  “I had just finished Godfather Varys’ speech less than ten hours ago.”  She said to the woman sadly.  “If we live – I mean to honor his wishes for the future… Godmother.”  She inclined her head submissively.

Sinyea managed a small smile, but Lucy could see they both were sick with how this had played out.  Chicago did have a chance to grow strong and it had been cut short.  If Sineya could successfully carry them forward into the future was a complete unknown – without Varys’ experience or his extensive network of spies, contacts, and allies – the city of Chicago was in grave peril. 

Neither said another word as they went back to their respective work and the waiting game began anew.

“I wish I coulda helped him.  He didn’t deserve to go out that way – by someone who he’d authorized no less.”  She heard the man on the other end click his tongue in disapproval.  “Chicago is strong though and I respect the work you and the other crew leaders have done there.”

“I appreciate you saying that, but the truth is that Chicago is in no bargaining position right now, Godfather.  This latest hit, the loss of Varys on top of everything else, I don’t know that we come back from this the same way we once were and that has a real effect overall of this thing of ours.  If Chicago isn’t strong and profitable… it has a ripple effect on the bottom line of the six cities.”

“Varys trusted you and I know that he had plans for Sineya, which I continue to support.  So, I don’t want you talking about things like bargaining positions.  Right now, we’re united in this an effort against these rogues.”

Lucy forced a smile as she saw Charlie come in the door, looking as tired as she herself was.  “I appreciate your support, Godfather. I know we’re going to find these bastards and end this soon.”

“I’ve bought off the hits that he’s put on you.”  Godfather Kassidy said over the phone.  “Happy Birthday, by the way.”

“Thank you, Godfather.”  Lucy chuckled the words. She had forgotten that today was – indeed – her birthday until this moment.  “Do your people have eyes on him?”

“Detroit.”  He said.  “He’s got quite a bit of protection now, but we’re wearing them down.”

“I’m putting my affairs in order.  Just in case.” Lucy wasn’t sure why she was confession such at thing to this man she barely knew and trusted only because of the respect her now dead Godfather had for the man.

She could hear him breathing, thinking perhaps? “Chicago is in good hands.”  He said finally.  “Leadership suits you – there’s great protection in having a family… Varys’ people need someone to look to right now and it seems to be you.”

Lucy hadn’t just avoided ever thinking of being a Don – the irony was she’d rejected the idea out right the few times it had come up and been offered to her.  “I’ll think about it.”  She said, honestly.  “Thank you again Godfather.”

“We’ll talk soon.”  The Godfather said and then the line disconnected.

Lucy looked up to Charlie.

“We found Frank.”

Lucy’s phone rang, she smiled brightly at the thought that Frank was okay.  “Fantastic!  Get him here to me would you.”  She picked up her phone.  “Hello?”

“We have a plane waiting for you on the tarmac.”

“Clown.”  Lucy said.

The relief in her voice, over the news of Frank, must have given Clown hope that it was over because he asked, “Did we get him?”

“No, but his bodyguards are pinned down in Detroit.  Where would I be going?”

“Philly.”

Lucy stopped.  That was beyond ironic.  Going to Philly to pick up protection so she could survive another war but this time here in Chicago.  It was like going full circle… right down to not having Frank at her side.  The thought of Frank made her look up and this time she REALLY looked at Charlie’s face.  The lines, the puffiness around her eyes… the pity.

“I’m not coming.”  She said numbly.

“Varys would want you protected Lucy – to keep going forward with his plans for Chicago.  You-”

“Frank’s dead.”  She said to Clown, but with her eyes locked on Charlie it was a question as much as anything.

Charlie nodded slowly.

“I’m so sorry Lucy…”  Clown’s words over the phone seemed so far away now.  Her vision swam.  “You’ll call me if you change your mind?”

“Thank you, Clown.”

“Good Hunting, Lucy.”

She hung up the receiver and Charlie rushed to her side, throwing her arms around her.  Lucy did not move, she did not return the hug.  For a long moment she stood there, as if not moving would somehow ensure that this news wasn’t true – it wasn’t real.  This was the place she’d been standing when he was still alive and if she stood here unmoving; it was still true.

“What do we know?”  She could hear her own voice ask, but she had no idea how as she was sure her mouth hadn’t moved at all.  She was frozen inside – empty, dead, and cold.

Charlie pulled back drying her eyes.  “Apparently he knew Varys died.  I don’t know if he was there with him or not, when the Godfather fell– but Frank did crew up with some Vegas operation called Damnation before he…”  She didn’t want to repeat it.  “It looks like Geordie’s work.”

“I need you to take me to him.”  Again, her voice said in opposition of what her body wanted.

“You… you don’t want to see this Lucy.”  She said, voice trembling.

“I have to.”

“Lucy – you need your senses; the city needs you thinking clearly… and the baby…” 

Lucy looked down at her stomach and let her fingers brush across the space where the last bit of Frank lived in this world.  “He’ll never know his father.”

“You’ll tell him about his father.”  Charlie said through tears.  “We all will.”

“Just like Frank.  Just like me… we never really… um, we never really knew them.”  Lucy swallowed and looked back up to Charlie.  “Take me to my husband.”

This time, her friend just nodded.

Lucy asked her bevy of bodyguards to fan out and surround the building where they had been driven in the Southside of Chicago.  The night had reached its apex – so far from the light that the darkness threatened to swallow everything and a fog, created by the difference in temperature of the air and the lake, flooded the entire city making every shadow a hiding place for a stray gun.

Charlie walked beside her as she entered the building where Capazzo’s crew members had brought Frank’s body for her to see.  Several crates were centrally placed in the large open warehouse, a long board across them and atop them rest a body covered in off-color sheet that was probably hastily chosen to try to show him some respect. 

The dead, however, required no respect.  Lucy had to see this – she had to know for sure that it was him and to memorize and remember what that vile son of a bitch had done so she could fully appreciate how much suffering he was truly due.  How her stomach twisted with the thoughts of all the times she sat with Geordie – laughed with him, and thought of him as her family when all the while he’d been capable of THIS. 

She stopped just before the crates.

“Are you sure, Lucy?  We could have someone clean him up a bit for you first.”

Lucy shook her head, no, then took hold of the sheet and pulled it off violently to reveal the whole of him – head to toe.

Echoes the distant past – memories that seemed more like distant dreams fading upon the morning’s light came to the front of her mind.

“COME ON FRANK!  CATCH ME!”  Lucy squealed watching chubby little Frank Dicaprio chase her across the yard with a stick he called a sword.

The first time she saw him as an adult – she felt… something.

“… My Fiancee Frank Dicaprio.” Nikki Swango showed of her ring but the Diamond didn’t catch Lucy’s eye so much as the handsome man beside her.  He was devastatingly easy on the eyes, dressed to the nines in that suit of his.

Lucy reached out a tentative hand, her finger tips coming to rest on the small bit of cool flesh that had been Frank’s cheek.

Lucy smacked Frank across the face hard, the whole art gallery gasped.  “SHE NEEDED YOU MORE NOW THAN EVER HOW DARE YOU!”  Her hand drew back, flying at his face again.  This time he caught it at the wrist.  He held her in an iron grip and while the look on his face terrified her, a small part of her felt something strangely different.

She let her hand fall away as she came closer, looking down upon his blood-stained form, trying to find something of the tore up sack of meat that resembled the handsome man she once knew. 

Music played and people talked and laughed together loudly.  It made for a fun place, a place where one’s words would be lost and never heard by anyone that wasn’t your companion.  Lucy smiled and looked around until her eyes landed on Frank.   She waved to him and made her way across the room.

He was an impressive figure, the cut of his suit followed the lines of his body making her imagination work over time.  He felt positively modest in his attire when compared to her draped in liquid silver.  She’d bought the dress thinking to wear it for Husky eventually, but that didn’t happen and now it never would.  Of course, here and alone with her best friend’s husband, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was a poor choice to bring it.

Men stood for her as she passed them, some tipped their hats.  Lucy blushed.  She was not use to such fuss.  Stopping at their table, she looked at the floor.  Frank paused only a second before pulling out her chair.  “Thank you.”  She murmured low enough for his ears alone.

Lucy ordered the shrimp and Frank, well it took him a moment to even realize they were being asked for their orders.  Lucy considered maybe she should make other room arrangements… or a pallet on the floor.  The way he looked at her made her feel things she should not feel – things she wanted to feel, but hated herself for wanting.  All through the main course she imagined that he was imaging dancing with her after dinner, his hands on the satin fabric, millimeters from her actual flesh.

That was an unnerving thought.  Her scars.  He’d feel them through the dress if his hands were so mischievous as she was imagining he might be thinking.  No.  Frank was a gentleman.  He wouldn’t be touching her so … sensually on the dance floor, if they danced… would he?

Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the body’s pale pallor, a washed out version of who he had been – as if she was seeing him in the darkness and not the light.

As he said each night, “Good Night Lucy.”  And he switched off the light.

Then, with the light off, Lucy got up.  “Don’t.”  She said, as he reached to turn on the lamp.  “I can find my way.  Stay put.”  She warned him.  She put her pillow between them on the bed, their own Great Wall of China.

“We’re being idiots.  A couple of Wise Guys suffering with that damn chair… and for what?  We’re scared of looking improper?  I know how much you’re trying to respect me, Frank, but you’re respecting us both into an early grave if we have to keep sleeping in that fucking chair!”  She giggled.  The wine was still addling her mind ever so.  “Let’s… let’s just both get some good sleep tonight?”

She climbed back into the bed, the cool sheets and its heavy comforter.  The memory of her afternoon delights floated through her mind.  Rolling on her side she could almost feel Frank behind her.  She couldn’t tell if he was looking at her, or away from her.  In her mind she imagined he was laying there staring at her outline in the dark as well.

She imagined him taking the pillow and tossing off the bed, reaching across the small divide between them and pulling her tight to him, wrapping his body around hers and whispering into her ear until the sun rose in the east.

An hour, perhaps more, passed this way – thoughts … an intense feeling that something might happen and yet nothing did.  All she could hear was her own heart thundering in her chest and his gentle breathing… likely how he sounded in the depths of sleep.  Yet, the thought of him tossing aside the pillow and pulling her into him was powerful, so powerful that she doubted she’d ever sleep if she didn’t at least know for sure that this was all in her head.

Lucy rolled over and found Frank looking at her, a smile grew on his face as he saw her open eyes mirroring his own.  Neither of them spoke.  What could they say?  Awake so long, far longer than was just a restlessness… especially at this hour.  No.  Lucy knew for sure, Frank could feel it too.

They were both lying, they had been for a while now – maybe since that first night they met in Vegas.  They were both trying to ignore an attraction that was clearly there.  A temptation to a sin that the better half of their souls was doing all that it could to dismiss.  Could such people as he and she, Lucy wondered silently, be the kind of people they were trying so hard to convince each other that they were?

Lucy lifted her arm and laid it on the Great Wall between them, half embracing the pillow.  She stared at him and waited.  It only took a moment.  Frank lifted his arm and took her hand.  His calloused thumb brushed firmly across the back of her hand.  The friction between their flesh sent an electric pulse through every part of her.  The pillow, that damnable pillow, he’d throw it soon.  He’d throw it and she’d hate herself tomorrow, but would burn all the world tonight.

Frank gave her hand a long squeeze, pulled it up to his mouth and give one firm but chaste kiss and then closed his eyes.  No second, ‘Good Night Lucy’ or other finality to signal anything that had just happened was anything more than a dream they’d both shared.  She supposed she could have seduced him… but her heart wasn’t in that, even if all the parts of her body desired him more than she ever remembered wanting another man before.

No.  She was a horrible friend, and maybe a whore to boot, but she had lines.  Few, weak, horrible flimsy lines though they were… Frank was such a good man and a good friend.  The terrible part was, it only made her want him more.

Closing her eyes Lucy drifted off to dream, wondering if she and that damn chair hadn’t ruined everything for her, for Frank, and for Nikki forever.

She longed to hold him.  To kiss him… but where… how?

They came to the front; the doors were in sight – and so was the promenade and the waves splashing over the impossibly high sides of the ship.  A life vest was thrust at her by a staff member, Lucy took it but even before Frank could turn to help her into it, another man pulled it from her grip to give to his gal.  Lucy opened her mouth to protest and Frank’s arm crossed into her line of sight.

The offender was lifted clean up off the ground by the impact of Frank’s fist to his jaw.  The man’s body hit the floor hard – it even bounced before coming to rest unconscious at the feet of the masses.  Several people screamed – no one louder than his gal who was already begging Frank to stop, but the staff was so busy trying to make sure everyone was safe that there wasn’t an immediate official response.

Frank’s grin was the thing of nightmares as he moved past Lucy, pushing the man’s gal back into the dining hall.  Somehow, he had snatched the vest back, and was holding it tight in his grip as he stomped ONCE, TWICE, THREE TIMES the man man’s body so viciously that blood came from his nose and mouth.  Frank was saying something, but over the screams and the roar of the storm Lucy couldn’t be sure what she was hearing.

Desperate to get to safety, Lucy and one of the crew finally pulled him back. In truth, Lucy believed that it was her screams of fear that brought Frank out of his blind rage because he looked to her first.  His face flush with melting anger, his eyes glistening with no small bit of concern for her.  He looked her over, rushed to put her vest on her, “It’s okay… it’s okay Luc.  I gotcha… I gotcha” He insisted, as though he was reassuring himself as he frantically put the life vest onto her.

The ship lurched then, and she and Frank fell into the hallway.  Lucy landed atop him.  He held her, in safely in her life jacket, tightly to him.  Their faces came together hard.  Lucy saw stars.  She blinked trying to get herself oriented again.  As the lights flickered back on, she could see a cut on Frank’s forehead.  They’d knocked each other almost senseless.  Behind them the crowds tried to orient themselves as the ship continued to roll, first it went back, lifting her from him.  Frank grabbed her tight so that she wouldn’t slide back towards the danger of the promenade; and then the ship went the other way and she did too.

Lucy braced herself so she wouldn’t slam into his head again, this time she came down on him with far more control.  Their faces connected more gently and were held in position by the force of the vessel for a heartbeat.  The heat from his mouth flooded into hers as he tried to speak words to call her scream – suddenly what was nothing but to bits of flesh meeting accidentally had become the kiss she had been dreaming of.  Afraid of dying, Lucy clung tighter to Frank and silenced her screams allowing her body to be at his and the ship’s mercy.  Perhaps it was only an instant that they kissed like that on the floor – certain death just a few yards away – but it felt like the longest kiss she’d ever known.

The mind fixates upon the most insane things in a moment like this, she could recall telling a young goomba that once.  Perhaps that was why Lucy smoothed his shirt and then began using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the blood from the recognizable parts of his face.

She wiped at her face and blessedly the cut was small, but head wounds – she’d been told, bled worse than any other.  Frank came to the door of the bathroom.  “We should get you into the bed.  You need to rest.”

“It’s a small cut.”  She insisted, trying not to hear the water blasting the window which now felt like a weapon pointed at her rather than something beautiful and desirable.  What if it cracked?  Would they drown?  Who put windows on ships!

“I didn’t mean … Lucy,” Frank stepped into the bathroom.  He took the cloth from her and went about the work of cleaning her face for her.  She stared up at him as he worked.  Eventually, he couldn’t help but notice.  He looked down into her eyes and stepped closer to her.  Their life vests felt as thick as walls now.  A new wall… pillow traded for vests.  This time, however, Frank wasn’t letting a wall stop him.  He leaned down and Lucy felt dread of what living through this might mean as fear of dying was giving way to sense again.

His soft lips touched hers, wet with rain and blood the tang of iron twisted her stomach in knots bigger than those which were already there over the fear of dying.  She stared at him as his hands caressed her cheeks and his lips pulled in her own.  She was frozen.  Fear of this moment, of the sea – of Frank and her after if they did live – all of it made her want to run again. 

Tears poured down her face as Frank pulled back and looked at her.  Hurt and shame warred in his eyes.  She hadn’t responded and to add insult to injury she threw her hand up and smacked him before she’d thought better of it.  It was a reaction; the way you swat a fly you think you feel before you know for sure what you were swinging at.  Nothing was making sense right now – so many emotions and it all felt wrong.

The smack lit something in Frank’s eyes, an expression she couldn’t understand.  Was he thrilled?  Was he angry?  Was he amused?  Was he just as mixed up as she was?  She didn’t want to hurt him, so she tried to explain.

“Frank I’m… it’s just… we can’t…”

He picked her up, putting her over his shoulder like one might a child refusing to go to bed.  She cried out in protest, but she didn’t fight him.  He put her down and now that she was safe, he snatched his pillow from its side with in a singular violent action and moved towards the terrible chair.

“Frank.”  She sobbed.

He looked at her.  The hurt was plain in his eyes now.  “I’m sorry Lucy.  I’ll never kiss you again, not unless you want me to.”

 “I need water… please.  Water, a bucket… and a cloth.” Her sob choked her words. 

Charlie touched her, but she threw off the woman’s attempt at kindness.  “No.”  She said firmly.  “This is my duty – I won’t… I won’t … JUST BRING THE DAMN BUCKET!”

“I tried to find you – you’re our family after all… born just weeks apart, raised together... Frank’s fidanzati in casa.  I was the first person to hold you, even before your father!  I held your mother’s hand as she fought to bring you into this life and yet NO ONE in the Chicago families would tell me anything!  But I never gave up hope that you were still alive precious girl.  If no one was talking, and there was no body, I knew that you must be alive and if God was good, you’d return to us one day.  And now… here you both are… together as you were always meant to be.  È destino mio figlio!  A real and true miracle.  You found her.  Praise Mother Mary, you found her!” 

Frank looked at her anew and she at him – as if somehow this strange turn of events, this unexpected thing found half-way across the world changed everything and nothing in a single complicated action.

She began to undress him, a button at a time.  Each thread clung to him where the bullets had torn through him as though they’d been welded there.  Lucy stiffened her lip.  She would not cry.  She would not.

“Had I known that it was really over between you… I wouldn’t have made you suffer so.”  Lucy’s robe fell away, and she stepped into the beam of moonlight as if it were a cool lake.  One careful foot and then another until her full form was easily visible to Frank from his place in the bed.

She could hear him draw a breath, half expected him to move towards her, but he didn’t.  He simply stared, silent as he promised her to be.

The guest house was particularly chill compared to the main house where everyone else was sleeping, as a result her skin prickled with the sensation of night air wrapping around all her intimate parts.  She shivered ever so.  “I …”  She found her courage again, her heart racing with a mix of arousal and anticipation, “I want you to kiss me Frank.”

Frank was out of the bed in a single smooth motion just as soon as the words he’d been longing to hear passed over her tongue.  His arm grabbing her in the violent motion of a man denied for too long, she gasped in shock.

A hand on the small of her back massaged her skin, seeming to absorb the feel of her softest flesh, his other pulled her lips towards his.  Their tongues danced as they took turns claiming each other’s mouths; her arms around his strong neck, he stood to his full height lifting her from the cold floor.  Lucy wrapped her legs around him and felt his hand slide down her back to her bottom side so that he could carry her to the bed.

“Look… what they’ve done to you.”  She said seeing him naked before her.  Lucy trembled with rage and sorrow.  Charlie put down the bucket and some others of Capazzo’s crew brought the wash rags and towels – others carried off Frank’s clothes.

“Let’s get you cleaned up… Stud.”  She tried to joke, but all his nickname did was remind her of Naples.

Frank rode over and helped show Lucy how to control her horse with the reins and her feet in the stirrups.

“It’s in your knees and thighs.”  He said, smirking.  “Just squeeze and move your hips.”

“Squeeze and move my hips?”  She said with no small amount of amusement at the double entendre.

“You’ve got all the right skills, baby girl.”  He winked playfully and nudged his stallion to a gallop.

Lucy rolled her eyes and mimicked his motion, getting her horse to leap forward unexpectedly fast.  Lucy cried out and her fear turned fast to amusement as the horse tore forward at break neck speed.  “WOO HOO!”  Closing the gap between she and Frank and then, passing him.

Behind her she could hear Frank urge his powerful mount to a run.

The sound of the hoof beats on the earth were like her heart beating inside her chest as wind rushed through her red curls.  She leaned down low in the saddle, hoping not to fall off.

“Pull up the reins!” She could hear Frank behind her.

“Why!?!”  She laughed, “Because my horse is faster than yours?”  Through the trees and around rocks, the horse was like a river breaking out of a dam.  Nothing made it slow down.  Lucy felt like lightening was racing all through her, the saddle was taking some getting used to – her bottom was sore already and she wasn’t used to holding her legs open so far for so long, but this was like flying!

“I’ll catch you Greedy Girl!”  He called out behind her.

“NOT ON THAT FAT OLD HORSE!”  Lucy’s laughter echo’d through the countryside.

This was going to be the last time she’d touch him this way, so intimate and yet, it barely felt like him at all.  She could almost tell herself it wasn’t Frank – like she’d lied to herself about Husky for so long.  But no… she was his wife.  She wouldn’t.  She couldn’t.  This, was forever now.  There was no running from this truth.

"I can't."  She whispered, for not the first time.

"I'll go mad seeing you only on weekends and holidays."

"You talk like you have an office job.  Come on a Wednesday if you like... or I'll come to you.  We'll make it work, somehow; but I can't leave my family.  Not now - not ever.  More than that... I love you Frank, but, I don't want to leave Philly.  I hated Vegas, it's not who I am... I have too much Midwest in me maybe.  This is easier for me.  This place is my home now.  Please understand."

He sighed.  "I do, but allow that I'm a selfish man and I need you, alright?"

She laughed.  "Greedy Man."  She playfully chided him.  Lucy Fazzone, the grand-daughter of Sicilian Immigrants, kissed her best friend's ex-husband passionately on the tarmac of Philadelphia airport having no idea that her life was once again in very real mortal peril. Even as she said goodbye to her lover Frank DiCaprio, men and women from the Chicago families were storming the flop houses, speakeasies and mafia headquarters all across Philadelphia.

She watched his plane taxi and lift into the sky even as the souls of her family began to do the same, ascending to the gates of Heaven and some to the bowels of Hell.

“Why didn’t you wake me up you dumb ass…”  She whispered to him as she went over his right hand with the cloth, careful to avoid his missing pinky finger – such a peculiar thing for a bullet to have taken.  Part of her wanted to be mad at him, maybe that would make this easier, but she had never been good at staying mad with Frank for long.

Lucy looks at Frank with incredulity.  "Are you serious!"  She raises her voice, it's clear now that the hoarseness is from crying and yelling.  "I should shoot you myself Frank DiCaprio rather than waiting for your Godfather to do so!"

She pushes herself awkwardly out of the bed as if to look for her gun.  She is in a man's t-shirt and panties, nothing else.  "You're a Boss!  You don't get to just MOVE to Chicago!  Mobster's don't just move like normal people - you know this!  They kill men for that shit Frank!  They put cement shoes on you and put you in Lake Michigan or they drag your ass through the desert and leave you to be eaten by birds and bugs!"

She throws things around as she searches for her gun or her clothes - who can say what the crazy woman is looking for?  "And what are you gonna do even if you did?"  She walks to Frank, her face right in his, "Ask your EX-WIFE if she'll take you into her crew too?  Will you kiss her ring like I did last night?  Is that what you want!?!"

Tears pool in her eyes, "Begging for left overs... like me!?!  Accepting fucking titles I didn't earn so I'll... I'll be more of a joke than I am already?!?"  She screams out her rage as she kicks over a nearby table.

Frank controls his hot blooded temper as she yells at him.  He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly.

“Lucia stop it,  Stop crying about something that happen when you didn't have any information on what was going on.  Now listen to me yes I'm a boss and I earn money for my Don and he knows I'll come when he calls.  So weather I'm in Vegas or here I fucking earn.  Second I have no intention of going to Nikki.  Why the hell does that still bother you?  After all that we did and went through back home and you still think I want that woman?”

He walks over and picks up the knocked over table shaking his head.

“Where am I Lucia?  Here where was I in Vegas.  Who the hell said you beg who said your a fucking joke?  You reached out to someone you thought was close to you.”

"CRYING!?!"  His accusations of her crying put her over the top.  She threw a pillow at him because it was the first thing she could grab.  "EVEN YOU THINK I'M A CHILD!"  She hurled another.

"AND I KNOW YOU ... DON'T... WANT... TO FUCK HER!"  She said punctuating each word with another hurled item. 

"I'M JUST SICK OF LOSING SO ALL HE GOD DAMN TIME!  I WAS A GOOMBA AND SHE WAS WAITING FUCKING TABLES AND HERE SHE IS RUNNING MY FUCKING TOWN!  MY HOME - THE PLACE WE WERE BORN!  SHE FUCKED HUSKY AND CAST HIM OFF FOR ME TO TAKE UP LIKE SOME PIECE OF TRASH... I LOVED HIM AND SHE NEVER TOLD ME ***YOU*** DIDN'T TELL ME!"

"WHO THINKS THESE THINGS ABOUT ME - WHO SAYS THEM?!?  I DO FRANK!  AREN'T YOU LISTENING!  I THINK I'M A COWARD & A LOSER!  I AM!  I WAS SCARED, OKAY!  IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED ME TO SAY!?!  HE SHOT ME - HE LOOKED ME IN THE EYES AND PULLED THE TRIGGER AND I LOST MY DAMN MIND WITH FEAR!  I RAN BECAUSE I WAS AFRAID - I PUT ASIDE HONOR AND ALL THINGS I SWORE TO DO, BY MY BLOOD AND I RAN!  AND I WAS RELIEVED!  RELIEVED IT WAS ARYA IN THE COFFIN AND NOT ME!!!"

Lucy appears to be running out of steam.  She staggers forward and grabs the bed for balance, trying to catch her breath.  She cradles her broken arm, clearly she's strained it.

Catching the pillow with his face first then his hands. “O FUCKING KAY!  DOES YELLING MAKE IT BETTER!  DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT ANSWERING THAT!”

Looking at her as he was getting angry he squeezes the pillow.  “When we where in Sicily who shot there way out and brought Gina home. How took care of Don Francico and his had his two sons and nephew taken care of in the town square in Enna?  Stop acting like a brat!”

“So fucking what, she is running Chicago, use that shit.  Get close and learn and take your time and get your own Family.   Chicago is a big city and show her who you are!”   He tosses the pillow back at her.

Lucy is smacked hard in the face with the pillow.  For a moment she stares at Frank, perhaps thinking about screaming again but instead she laughs.  She laughs so hard she must sit down on the edge of the bed. 

His chest was an open tomb.  So many holes that one ran into the next – they had literally ripped apart his heart to shreds which, strangely, was exactly how she felt right now.  It felt like every image of the future she had ever dreamed for them was tore from her, right through her skin leaving bloody bits of herself all over the place.

The doorman opened the lobby for them and the two traveled by elevator up to the 10th floor.  Unlocking the door, she walked inside and smiled brightly, "SURPRISE!  I've been having it decorated for a week now.  I went really simple in case you didn't like something... but considering what I've seen of you, I think you're gonna love it."

She raced forward, "The kitchen, look at this - it's a pity I'm not a better cook because this is a lovely oven and these counter tops ... you could cut steel on them."  She danced out into the middle of the open sitting area.  "We can entertain friends here... and over here..."  She ran to the dining table, "It seats eight so... maybe we invite influential people to dinners and such!"

She went to the window where the illuminated skyline of Downtown Chicago could be seen in it's full glory.  "I can see almost all of my city from up here!"  She laughed.  "Look at it Frank!"  Before Frank could put his hands on her she dashed to the bathroom, "This shower is big enough for both of us!  You could sleep in it!"

And off to the bedroom, last, "This is why I didn't buy the top floor one, though it was open - you can't see it so well at night but in the morning the sun will rise just over there and we'll see it across the water!  This corner loft was a perfect choice.  I am beyond giddy.  I've never owned ANYTHING like this Frank.  Tell me you love it!"  She said like a child begging to be indulged with praise.  "You love it as much as I do, right?"

When Lucy finally slowed down enough for Frank to put his hands around her to stop her from running he looked her in the eyes with a smile.  “Yes Lucy I do.”

She never wanted to be here again – this feeling of utter helplessness.  She’d told him they’d die this way… that was how it always happened; but somehow she always hoped she’d be there, at his side so he didn’t have to face it alone.

Friday evening became Saturday morning and then afternoon.  The men brought her food as she kept vigil at Frank's bedside.  Eventually she became so tired that she laid her head down next to his hand and slept in the chair bent over the side of his hospital bed.  Strangely it reminded her of the time on the ocean liner.  Together but so very far apart... and of course the wretched uncomfortable chair.

The moment he stirred, her head - tousled and messy from restless sleep and lack of shower - lifted up to greet him.  "Frank?  Frank can you hear me?"  She was so afraid, she prayed again and again for him to wake and now she prayed he would recover from this horrible thing he'd been through.

Frank woke to see a strange room then he notices a ball of red hair on his hand.  He played with her hair until she woke up and called out his name.  He smiled for a second then pain shot onto his face in less than a second.  He struggled to speak but he managed to get out two words.

“Hi kid.”

He reached for her hand as he laid in pain and pulled her closer to him and softly whispered.  “What happened?  Did you shot me?”

Lucy wanted to laugh at Frank’s joke – but she had nearly lost him and all that kept going through her mind was the fact that she had no say in anything to help him because she wasn’t his wife.

Lucy came to his left side and found his wedding band, still intact.  It took some work to get it off – she was almost rough with him.  His flesh was marked by the ring.  Even though it was gone, the memory of it was imprinted upon him until his skin would eventually rot away and become food for the worms.

Lucy broke with that image in her mind and cried out squeezing the bloody cloth in one hand and Frank’s ring in her other.  She began to whisper her wedding vows – willing a better thought to the front of her mind.

The Archbishop took the rings from Tony and sprinkled them with a bit of water and then hands them to the couple.

“Lucia Teresa Fazzone, receive this ring,” Frank said, looking deep into Lucy’s eyes, putting the ring on her finger.  He wasn’t just repeating some lines he’d memorized.  He was speaking to her and suddenly all the ritual and rote of Church felt different for Lucy.  It was as if she could suddenly feel the eyes of God upon them as Frank swore himself to her, “…as a sign of my undying love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Lucy swallowed her smile and took a deep breath before she put the ring on his hand and met his eyes with a vulnerable honesty she so rarely shares with anyone, “Francisco Nickolas Dicaprio,” She said his name with a devotion she was scarcely aware she was capable of, “Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Let us pray.”  The Archbishop lead them in the universal prayer.  Lucy wanted to steal a glance at Frank but she didn’t dare.  She could almost feel the eyes of Christ upon her as the temptation to give a moment belonging to God, to her husband.  Instead she forced herself to think of her daughter and prayed that God kept her safe and brought them together as a family.

“May I present to the assembled,” The Archbishop concluded, “Mr. and Mrs. Dicaprio.”

Without realizing it, Lucy held her breath, waiting for Frank to lift her veil and kiss her for the first time as his wife.

She washed his legs, legs that had danced with her so many times – would never spin her across the floor again.  Her mind drifted to the Cotton Club in New York… and then to another place she once danced in New York.

People cheered as pretty little Lucy sang bawdy songs at the top of her lungs with rebellious young women and men, sweat beaded on her forehead as she celebrated with strangers the happiest day of her life.  Frank, she noted, looked positively sober by comparison… and his head remained down with a larger number of young men.  Was he gathering his own crew even before they’d weighed anchor and set sail?

Tony and Giuseppe rotated in and danced with her from time to time, reminding her of their ever-watchful eyes.  At some point her gin became water, which she discarded with a disgusted – “BLEH!” much to the amused cheers of the party goers.

Chanting for the end of prohibition began and Lucy was brought another glass.  “TO MY HshUSBAND, THE VERY MOShT HANDShOMEST MAN IN sha WHOLE shWORLD!”  She shouted a toast at one point which everyone raised glasses to, laughing at the very drunk bride.  She watched Frank wink at her and laugh, shaking his head.  She knew those eyes though.  Why had he not come to take her to bed yet?

“Come on Lucy!  We’re gonna jitterbug!”  A girl said pulling out to the floor again.

“WOO!”  Lucy cheered.  She wanted to run off with her new husband, but with him busy she figured there was no harm in dancing for him some more.  This thought turned her dances into temptations for Frank across the room.  She made eyes at him at first, then her dances became a bit more enthusiastic.  She turned her hips more, shook out her hair, even showed him a bit of leg at a couple points until he seemed to be getting the message.

She watched him smash out a perfectly good cigar, shake some hands and seem to agree to something.  He then made his way out to where she was shamefully trying to lure him.

“Mrs. DiCaprio,” He said in a mock scolding tone.  “You’re acting positively scandalous.”

“You shouldn’t letshe getsho drunk.”  She giggled.  He laughed in return.

“Noted for the future.”  He scooped her up then, to the cheers of the remaining people in the room, most of whom were as drunk as Lucy.

“Mr. Dicaprio!”  She squealed and rested her head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head to the side and whispered near her ear, “I’m going to take you back to the room, rip you out of that dress and take full advantage of my very drunk bride.”

Lucy giggled and closed her eyes so the movement of the room didn’t bother her – how strange it was moving so much!  She was sure they weren’t supposed to pull out of port until first light.

Down the hall he carried her, the way they stories said a man would one day carry her over the threshold, only they never mentioned he’d be doing it because she’d be too drunk to walk.  She didn’t even open her eyes for the room, it was probably lovely – but who knew, NOT LUCY!  She was too dizzy, too tired, to open her eyes even for that.  She nuzzled Franks neck and whispered was probably how much she loved him, but Frank likely couldn’t understand a word of her incoherent mutterings.

He put her on the bed and began to undress her before stating he had to use the bathroom and would be right back.  Lucy nodded, yawned, and pulled her legs to her upset stomach.  She’d just rest a moment until Frank was back and then she’d give him the time of her life – she would!

When Frank came back he found the small pale form that was his wife, all curled up on herself, snoring softly upon the bed.

She would make herself a tower and live within it.  If the world was going to come for her again… it would find her waiting. 

Cletus was right.  She needed a crew.

With it she would make those who went rogue pay for their crimes with a viciousness that would be worthy of Frank.  A cool hate… hard like marble, Ivory and pure, like the color of her wedding dress. 

“Frank?!?” Lucia’s sleepy & worried voice called out in the darkness.

His head whipped around so hard it nearly snapped.  Lucia was not only awake, she was sitting up in the bed.  Behind her he could see the silhouette of the hit man.  Frank then realized what his enemy had gone for - his gun.

In horror he called out, “Down!”  Knife in hand he ran straight at the bed, and up onto it.  Springing into the air over Lucia, who had done exactly what he said without hesitation; Frank could see the dim glint of carbon steel in the moonlight.

The assassin was turning with his gun in hand.  The blade, which was sharpened to slit the throat of two made men in their sleep, slid down into the space between the hitman’s neck and shoulder so smoothly and with so little resistance that Frank wouldn’t have known he’d hit at all except for the hilt stopping hard on his collar bone.  The gun clattered to the floor.  Behind him Frank was vaguely aware of Lucia scrambling out of the bed to pick it up.

The gangster wasn’t dead yet – but that was a simple matter now.  His face, neck, and chest were already a wreck of blood, but now – with a sliced carotid artery, blood splashed with every fist thrown down onto the gurgling meat sack that fell beneath Frank.  A pool of blood decorated the floor of their room, but still Frank didn’t stop, not until the THING – not a man but the object of his hate – stopped twitching and making any noises at all.

Frank panted, he felt powerful and full of righteous fury.  His heart was racing....  his heart!  He remembered now that he should be worried about his heart.  This thought made him look back to where Lucia now stood.  She was dressed only in her white lace bra and matching panties and she was holding his gun.

Looking at his cut up, blood-drenched hands, he trembled with rage he couldn’t stop feeling.  He wanted to feel shame kneeling in front of his new bride, covered in the blood of another man, but this is who he was.  This was what he’d do… for her… for their family.  She deserved to know that.

He stood up and lifted his chin, the man who crossed him was now at his feet, and his blood covered Frank from stem to stern.  “Are you okay?”  He asked, still breathing hard, still wanting to scream to the sky that anyone had gotten so close to them!

Lucia crossed the space between them, gun still in hand.  Her mouth captured his without hesitation.  Her demure and pale form smashing up against him, her perfect breasts becoming stained with the still warm crimson issue of their mutual enemy.

She’d lied to herself.  Foolishly so.  She had told herself that she’d risen high enough to not be hit and hurt like this.  Who would dare strike her down after she’d ended Durden, Whitehill, and Enna?  She’d come to be the Right Hand of a powerful Godfather so many feared and respected…

“He’s scapegoating Whitehill for the hitman.”  She said, crumpling the note in her hand and pacing.

“He knows about you being welcomed into Tobias’ rank despite your powerful enemies.  He sees the writing on the wall.  He knows war is coming if he can’t find a scapegoat and shut you down.”

Lucy shook her head in frustration.  “We can’t go back.  He’s just as likely to kill us under a flag of truce and there is no promise that Billy would honor any agreement that Tyler made – Godfather or not.”

“No.”  Frank agreed.  “Most likely we’d be killed coming to the table.  An unfortunate casualty that he could lament to our families; but there is good news.”

“Oh?”  Lucy paused looking to Frank.

“He seems to think you’re going to Ireland to gather allies.”

Lucy brightened.  “He might not know about our daughter.”

Frank nodded and crossed the room and came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.  He kisses the top of her forehead as they look out the window onto the sea.

“He fears what we are building, Lucia.  He fears us enough to try to kill us and then send us letters begging us to come back to the table and talk.  He has no idea what we will be able to bring down upon him and his holdings… but he’s smart enough to realize he needs to be worried.”  He leans down near her ear, “Anyone who tries to come after my family should be worried.”

Lucy leaned her head against his.  Franks hands slipped over her belly, low and suggestive.  Lucy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.  Neither spoke a word, but some things between a husband and wife carried such weight as to not need words.  She’d known he’d shown extreme enthusiasm this last time they made love, even for Frank, he was trying to get her pregnant and now he was letting her know.  Gently.

He loved her, he’d cross the world to find her little girl and bring her home… but like all good men, he hoped for a son of his own blood.  A child to carry on his name and his family’s legacy.  A child who could go forward with the family dynasty they would start finally having united their families after all these years.

She put her hands over his, and together they silently said prayers.  She imprinted the moment in her mind, swearing to God to never forget this instant.  Tyler Durden and Old Man Whitehill be damned, no one was ever going to take her family from her again.

… how could she have ever thought that there wouldn’t come a reckoning for all she’d stolen from fate?  Such joy as she’d been blessed to know, it always came with price and the better the gifts in life… the higher the price.

Lucy nodded and starred out the window until at last their car stopped along side Frank’s.  She jumped out and ran into his arms.  She held him tight and buried her face into his chest.  He kissed the top of her head and rocked her gently, but Lucy didn’t cry.  She couldn’t.

“She wants a pony.”  She says looking up to Frank.  “And a party with a cake… and a silver dress that looks like stars from a store called Flannigan’s in town.”  She hugged him tight.  “She’s so sweet Frank.  God she’s so precious.  Thank you, Frank.”  She murmured.  “Thank you.  Thank you.”  She wanted to say more but all she could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief that this was really happening and her husband had made it happen.  The impossible was possible because of this man who she loved more than almost anything in the world – save perhaps Katy.

Her daughter… HER daughter, Katy Dicaprio.

Lucy dropped the cloth into the bucket.  Charlie had already sent men and had them return with new clothing for Frank.  She looked at the floor.  Chunks of her husband, bits of his brilliant brain and skull… hair… all spread across the place like confetti at a party.

Music suddenly filled the room as her Grandfather turned on the radio.  “Alright everyone – cake is ready!”  He called out.

“Come on Katy!”  Aiden said, already running out to the table in the kitchen.

“Not before we’re properly introduced.”  Frank said coming up to Katy.

“You’re Frank.”  Katy said, displaying her awareness of who he was and that she’d been paying attention.

“And you must be Princess Kathleen.”  He made a sweeping and formal bow, taking off his cap as he did.  This caused Katy to laugh and clap.

“Could I have this dance, your majesty?”

“YES!”  She said making her best attempt at a curtsey.

Frank swept her up in his arms and danced around the room with Katy, twice past Lucy and on the third time Katy spoke to her, “He’s silly.”

“Yes.”  Lucy said, smiling ear to ear as she watched them play.

“OH!  We must not forget Queen Lucia!  Shall we have her dance too, Princess Kathleen?”

Katy thought about it a moment then nodded.

Frank stopped to pull Lucy into this dance.  She was holding Katy.  She was holding her baby!  Tears welled up in her green eyes and the three of them spun their way into the kitchen where Michael was putting down plates of cake and ice cream for everyone.

Lucy tried to lift Frank to dress him but it was far harder than pulling away ripped clothing.  He was just too heavy.  She tried again and again until she was crying tears of frustration and exhaustion.

“Lucy?”  Charlie helped to lift Frank so she could slide on his shirt.  “We can help.”

Capazzo’s men came forward and began to redress the corpse of Lucy’s husband as she finally fell to her knees, screaming wails of a woman who would not be consoled for hours or days or maybe ever.  Lucy cried and screamed until all the poison pain felt as though it had been forcibly ejected from her.  She trembled in Charlie’s arms as the woman brushed her hair away from her face.

“What can I do?” Charlie whispered.

“Sicily.”  She whispered.  “Have my people call Sicily… I need Giuseppe.  Please.”

“Ma’am?”  Lenny came forward. 

Lucy looked to her youngest bodyguard.  “What?”

“I’m real sorry, but you won’t find Giuseppe in Sicily.”

“What do you mean?”  Lucy’s mind immediately went to a place of terror.

“Mr. Dicaprio changed our orders.”  Lenny started meekly.

Lucy laughed a laugh that began as a chortle and slowly became a full belly shaking laugh.

Lenny tried to continue as Lucy laughed over the sound of his voice.  “He’s living in a rural area not far from here – we were told not to bring him back until you asked for him… or if Tony thought you need him.”

The whole thing was fucking hilarious. 

Frank Dicaprio, even in death, was calling the shots and taking care of her still no matter what she wanted or expected.  “Bring him home Lenny… bring him home now.”

How the hell am I supposed to do this without you, Frank?