Chapter I - Byrne the Candle at Both Ends

June, 19XX

Jack preferred walking. Sitting was not quite as favorable. There was purpose in walking. Direction, intention, objective. Every step would pass earth beneath him and toward his goal. Movement meant productivity, whereas sitting felt like squandered energy and ignored opportunity. This excess of motivation was presently the driving force behind the impatient swinging of his legs whilst sat on a wall overlooking the Philadelphia docks. He had all but given up hope of finding Rubix. Due to Mezzo's oversight, The Pharmacy doors had been left open long enough for the pup to slip out and into the streets of the city. It was unlikely that the most senior canine of the Philadelphia operation would ever allow himself to be recaptured. Rubix would return on his own terms and Jack resigned himself to admitting to Mr. Spaceman that he had lost the dog.

The boy was now a man. Whatever rebellious flare he burnt throughout his youth was beginning to smolder and concentrate into something new. The open air from the docks caught his hair, breathing life into the styled black waves. Sharp features and deep set eyes looked into the breeze and out across the rocking boats. From here he could see the flurry of activity among the migrant boats as they dumped their human cargo out onto the American east coast. The day could still bring reward, was his consideration, the ranks of the Pharmacy will always benefit from some new blood.

He stood, still finding a fit in the snug Italian shoes he had been advised to purchase. They were very attractive, the demanding clap they made against the sidewalk as the heel struck was also an extremely satisfying sound. Jack noted that they were not dog-finding shoes, however. Today was the first day he had dressed to represent the position and influence he held within the Philadelphia outfit. Slender fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt. All this formality would take some getting used to.

A lingering look at the docks forced a decision to make a final effort to locate Rubix before turning in for the night. There will always be new blood and attention should really be on locating the boss's dog. 

Casually pacing back toward the street, Mezzo caught the attention of a young couple.

"Don't suppose you guys have seen a dog, have ya?"

Examining blue eyes met his own. A man, old enough to be considered a kid at first glance, turned to stand square with Jack.

"Yeah, I've seen a few. What's it look like?" Unlike the girl, there was no hesitation in his response, no pause or momentary assessment of what this new encounter meant. It was likely those eyes had already made their assessment.

"If you're paying, I'll find him for you. This goddam day needs some improvement and if chasing some lost pooch around is all on offer, I'll take it."

The girl dropped down from her perch and placed herself between the pair of them. Dressed in a pine green blouse with tanned sleeves and a pair of sturdy leather boots, she now took her opportunity to make an assessment of Jack.

"Might I ask your name, sir?" She spoke well and knew a thing or two about presentation more so than her accomplice.

"We're new in town, I'm Tara. This is my brother, Gavin."

Her brown eyes flickered to Gavin and Jack acknowledged the resemblance. Chestnut hair, similar build and a noticeable familiarity in their reactions. Jack stumbled over his response as the lingering voice of his mother willed him to remain polite and courteous. 

"Mezzo, sorry, I mean Jack. It's Jack Mezzo."

He locked eyes with Tara for a moment, his response to Gavin came before he met the young mans gaze.

"And yeah, I can pay you. Would give anything to make sure that dog is home safe right now."

Mezzo made the assumption they were from out of town. Both were equip in attire suitable for moving through the wilderness than walking the streets of Philadelphia. There was an eagerness in both their demeanor, too, though with wildly different ambition to each other. Gavin had a swagger to him which spoke of confidence. Jack's initial assessment concluded that was assurance in his own abilities rather than arrogance. And Tara, Tara was attentive, Mezzo half expected her to have a crib sheet on interacting 101 smuggled away in her slacks.

"I'm not looking to step on anyone's toes, though. You pair already got representation around here?"

A spark fired from the eyes of the woman. The man began to attempt to visualize the dimensions of Rubix.

"So is this a big dog? Small? Got any identifying features or a collar?"

His sister appeared to suppress the urge to interject, finally speaking up in a pause to Gavin's questions.

"When you say representation, are we talking about..." Great effort went into delivering her query without compromising her confidence "...quality work? Work which might see us get our hands dirty?" She blinked, composure retained, and Jack raised a brow. His hands were held out in response to Gavin, who was making size proposals with his hands of the dog he would be looking for. Jack had his attention drawn however. 

"...Sure, I can find some quality work for you." He observed her, hesitating. He found her assertiveness attractive, she was robust and determined. Traits that sat well with the older man. Perhaps too young, though.

"How about the three of us get a drink and talk over your expectations? Shit knows I could do with getting off my feet, these shoes are killing me."

"What... what about the dog?" Gavin persisted, Jack smiled and shrugged. 

"He's a resourceful mutt, he'll work out the way home."

The trio paced back into the city, the booted twins following the crack of heel on sidewalk.

July, 19XX

Got to quit smoking.

Jack winced as his body convulsed once more. Years of cigarettes had begun to eat at his lungs. What's worse, the whiskey he would normally use to sooth a sore throat was not appropriate for a hospital. Mezzo was difficult to slow down, though. A blend of pride and stubbornness prevented him from voicing his ailments, while a sturdy constitution kept him on his feet. A second cough provoked a pained reaction from the bruising sustained to his ribs. He kept it stifled in light of Gavin's more pressing injuries. 

The more spontaneous half of the Byrne twins was presently laid up in wraps with Jack watching over him with a smirk. Race Street was little over a year old and the current scene was a result of their recent fundraising activity. Jack being entrusted with his own operation was drive enough for the industrious Philadelphian to expand on his current portfolio of business ventures. Gavin's predicament had arisen after he and Jack made a involuntary withdrawal from the bank of Delaware. The pair had escaped, though not without gratuitous flare and explosions.

Jack continued to stand vigil. Anticipating Tara's arrival any second, he looked out of the narrow, meager window. 

"I'm sure you're just relishing in the opportunity to hold your tongue for once, Mr. Byrne. It must be revealing to not always have to be switched on, wary of each and every set of circumstances in each and every room you enter." 

He turned to check the man was indeed still unconscious.

"As you are famous for." Jack smiled.

The years he had spent with the twins before now had been consumed building a strong bond while advancing through the ranks of The Pharmacy together. As Race Street was founded, it was expected throughout the district that it would be the three of them that embarked on the task together. With Tara at his right hand side, Gavin had acted as chief enforcer. A role which came to him naturally. 

"Whatever the future brings us my friend, it'll always be my wish that you do not take up the mantle of leadership. Perhaps one day when your cogitative abilities have been restored I'll tell you again. Right now though? I just want to make sure the words sound right."

He sat himself down at the man's bedside. A challenged brow spoke of his consideration over the next words.

"Never lose your focus, Gavin. If something ever happens to me, I want you to remain the pillar of support that you've brought to Philadelphia for whoever takes up the mantle. You don't need politics to juggle or disputes to diffuse clouding your senses. You're the best version of yourself doing and being what you are now."

Mezzo seemed content with that much and relaxed into the chair.

"But for now, rest. I'll do what I can to keep your mind at ease while you heal up."

23rd December, 19XX

A tremble in his hand forced thought of vulnerability and weakness. Past a certain point, it would be impossible for Jack to mask his ill health. To hide his uncertainties. To ignore pain. He felt the cold greater these days than the years past and found comfort from remaining almost exclusively in the office over the East Cat. The move to South Philly had never really been completed, not so long as Jack had the pier to retreat to. The extension of his territory was more for the younger members, anyway. He didn't mind stepping out of their way once in a while.

The world was advancing on around him. Race Street grew stronger, larger, however as it succeeded, Jack's connection with the people within it lessened. He was too old to stop every goomba on the street and welcome them to the ranks. He was too tired to scrutinize every button man the caporegime's introduced into the family. The notion saddened him.

The firelight flickered, as it did, a warmth encompassed his shuddering hand. 

Tara. The woman looked deep into the old Godfather's eyes and squeezed his wrinkled knuckles. Her role was always knowing without asking, but still eager to be told. Mezzo was too proud to ever open up to her, even after all these years. He would reward her professional efforts with trust and wealth. Her irrefutable loyalty and disciplined patience was a foundation for the entire operation. Personally though? Jack would never tell her how much she meant to him.

"Vincent is settling in well." She softly remarked, leaving his grip to file the papers Mezzo was relentlessly studying. If she didn't prompt him to close up for the night, he would go on until sunrise. "We'll miss Joe, but word is from the old country he's enjoying life now."

Jack nodded. Adonis would indeed be missed.

"Charlie is keeping the streets active and we're hoping all is well for the Christmas Day plans... oh, and Arturo said you wanted to see him." 

Jack looked to her, a question on his expression. She looked back and shook her head, exasperated at his persistence to work.

"I told him you'll see him tomorrow."

Jack rolled his eyes. Tara took the slight without offense, she always did.

"...And William will be settled up with the years financial report by the end of the month." 

Mezzo nodded, a small smile twitching from the corner of his mouth. Bowden was a good man. 

"So stop worrying. You've got good people around you. People you raised, trusted and let loose upon the world. You don't need to be present at every Soldato ceremony or be responsible for knowing the name of each earner. your role is greater than that now."

Tara didn't need to be told what to do, she always just knew. In that moment he contemplated an exchange with her which would likely be what she had been waiting her entire service to him to hear. Instead, he lit a smoke and watched the fire crackle.

Chapter II

The Doctor is In.

August, 19XX

A small office in a heart of the old town of Philadelphia held host to a meeting of the most senior figures in the city. Looking around the table, Jack Mezzo, a young and aspiring crew leader, took comfort and pride in the individuals present which he was considered eligible to associate with. This was his first upper structure meeting since founding Race Street. At his side, Tara sat politely greeting members of the city. Over his shoulder, Kodak Black stood as extended representation for the crew. Jack was keen for the young left hand to be in attendance. Kodak had much to learn, however was eager to do so. Jack had respect for this. 

The door from the Pharmacy below opened and the Doctor took his seat. Rubix followed him, gamboling under his chair before finding a seat himself. The meeting was soon underway.

Mezzo found himself captivated by his Don. There was no senior figure in his life who would offer such authentic engagement. When compared to the other cities, sure, his opinion was biased. Nothing would change the fact though that Jack felt security in Leo Spaceman's service. 

In the early days Mezzo had decided he was committing everything to Spaceman's cause. He carried himself with respect and dignity. He explored options to solutions, never jumping to a conclusion. Jack found he had much to learn from the man and was grateful for the opportunity to do so. It was for this reason that Mezzo felt dissatisfaction that the meeting came to a close. He was in the prime of his life. Driven and ready to learn, to act and to build. He wanted more.

What followed was a rare social appearance by the mafioso. The conclusion of the meeting meant that the gathered heads of Philadelphia's finest terrible crime syndicates would congregate somewhere in the city and indulge themselves in the commodities of their trade. On this occasion - it coincided with the opening night of Star's Observatory on the pier. It was one of the first locations to open as part of Race Street's business investment. Jack should be in attendance.

He arrived late, the meeting still on his mind. Tara was there, greeting him with a flask of whiskey. She wore a deep emerald dress with her shoulders exposed. Had he functioned like any other red blooded male, Jack would certainly have taken a second glance. Perhaps it was the waning thoughts of the meeting and his insistence to work off the clock. Perhaps it was to protect the professional relationship they shared. Or perhaps, she was just too young for him.

Instead of pursuing that particular interest, Mezzo would do the rounds, enjoy a few beverages, then retire for the evening. He returned to his office to find Leo Spaceman waiting for him, a pair of short tumbler glasses and a single malt in hand. The Don poured them both a generous measure then revealed in much greater detail the part Philadelphia played among the seven cities of the United States. They discussed relationships and politics, strengths and weaknesses. 

The trust extended to Jack that night assured him that he would die in the service of this man. If he didn't outlive him, of course. 

Chapter III - William Bowden

Christmas Eve, 19XX

"It's over, Jack."

It was a lie, it wasn't over. Gore was seeping through the wooden frame of the bench and pooling underneath Godfather Mezzo. Louis knew there was nothing to be done. The old man was just too stubborn to die when naturally expected to. The boy sat with his grandfather and watched the evening sun sink toward the horizon. Louis spared himself this moment to be with Jack at the end. He would then take up arms once more to end the fighting.

Jack nodded. He looked to his abdomen and considered for a moment the inconvenience of a hole in his gut. Thoughts quickly returned to work, to what tomorrow would bring, to where Race Street would turn. 

"Bowden... must..."

He looked at Louis and wheezed.

"Until... you..."

Louis was silent, for a moment. He sank forward to rest on his knees while courage gathered. He knew what Jack wanted. He knew he was not ready to lead, himself. It would be William Bowden that took up that mantle. Courage eventually reared and he looked the old man in the eye.

"They shot William this morning. He's dead."

Mezzo nodded once more, there was pain to his stare and an inhalation that masked a sob.

William Bowden had been a true, unwavering soldier. A silent and doting man, Jack had taken him in following disruption on the west coast. He quickly established himself as an intelligent, powerful individual. Powerful not only in his physical abilities, but in his comprehension, in his judgement. Like all his people, Mezzo had no interest in delving into the man's past, who his father was or what he had achieved. It was a exercise of trust.

At times, working with William was as if working with himself, Jack recalled. The man was of the same mindset as him every step of the way. Then there were other times the feeling was the relationship hung over him, waiting for the killing blow. Like an axe, or a guillotine. This was in part attributed to Bowden's stoic and impassive demeanor. In reality it was likely the reluctance to make an incorrect assumption on Jack's part, to put his trust in the wrong person.

It was the first great risk Mezzo took, authorising Billy to set up his own operation on the pier. Purgatory Gym was a joint venture between Bowden and one of the, then little known to Jack, Luciano girls from Detroit. It was the heart of the boxing tournament and a breeding ground for young fighters from across the country. William had stepped into the role and performed exceptionally, so much so that he was named SottoCapo, or Underboss, shortly after his operation was established. He was a calculated fighter, dependable ear and ideal leadership figure.

Jack felt the life spill from his gut and splatter onto the concrete below. His breath labored and eyes fell heavy.

Chapter IV - A Knife in the Woods

It had a history, this place. The Explorers Club, Bella Vista.

Louis Gato had been the first to be brought to the clearing, known among his peers as LG, the line was officially inducted into the ranks of La Cosa Nostra by an old Don from Philadelphia. Back in the old days. Sam Gato had then chosen to bring those worthy of the honor here, as did Jack's Grandfather, Christian Gato. Years of history, men and women of honor. Family. 

You would know you're on the right path when encountering the huge fallen tree on a lone road leading out of the city. Off the side of the path there was an old hut, illuminated by life inside. Chattering voices, expensive smoke and wild ambition. Those due to be inducted into the ranks of the operation would be brought to the clearing out back, encompassed by the deep tree line. The sound of the evening is all that could be heard, insect life, a crackling fire and of course the low exchanges between those in the hut. In the center of the clearing is the table, upon it, a vessel, an knife and a bottle. 

Jack took hold of the knife, the fire dancing within its blade like a trapped soul. He stood with Gavin and Tara, the trio were young, fresh faced and glowing with ambition. Among them also present was William Bowden, Artuturo Strigliori, Roger Coniglio and Bunny. Individuals thus far proving to be fundamental in the success of the Mezzo business. Jack was proud to be part of this ceremony, the anticipation whispered between the gathered few like smoke on the wind. He spoke, his voice deep and direct, clear above the crackle of the bonfire and chirps of the woods.

"You've been invited to this place as you are among the first generation to have proven yourselves to be capable of demonstrating the principals and expectations of a man, or woman, of honor."

Jack looked to the faces. The potential they held was palpable, what would they go on to achieve? What were they capable of?

"Tonight, Race Street welcomes new brothers and sisters to join us in laying the foundations of this operation, this family. You will step forth on your name, you will be bled. You will recite the old words and your mind will be committed to our cause. You will press the outside the silver cup into your wound and your blood will be committed to our cause. You will drink the contents and your body will be committed to our cause."

The group nodded. Jack returned the affirmation of their agreement. 

"Kodak Black, step forward."

Kodak was instrumental in establishing Race Street in the early days. He would go on to provide council and coordination throughout the operation, eventually giving his life for Philadelphia. Now, the young and eager face willingly submitted to the ceremony. Jack pressed the knife into his palm and crimson flowed.

Kodak took hold of the cup.

"As my blood joins that of those who went before me, I join this family with pride. In my days to come I will serve this family with honor. I will climb alongside my brothers & sisters and I will only die with them, on top of the highest peaks"

There was a conservative applause as he drank. Jack then looked to the next.

"ralph_lombino, step forward."

Ralph had been inherited into the crew following the unfortunate circumstances of his previous crew leaders death. He would remain a consistent figure within Philadelphia, Jack suspected he would go on to greater things than just the city. The words were spoken and he was made into the family. 

"Yvette, step forward."

The young lady presented herself before the upper structure and took her cut. Her place in the family would become of great significance, eventually performing as right hand to the underboss of South Philly. She would become a terribly valuable asset that Jack in particular would build a life long bond with. 

Applause followed as her blood was pressed into the decorative etching of the cup, merging with those who had already drank.

"Paul_Manna, step forward."

Another figure within the operation who would pledge and display undying loyalty and remain a consistent figure throughout Jack's life. He took his place at their side.

"Finally, Tiberius. Step forward."

'Sneaky Tibz' was a soldier who remained loyal and energetic until the end. Tiberius would remain forever in the hearts and minds of the operation. He would be the first soldato to leave their ranks, vanishing one night with no conclusion ever being found to his fate.

That night, the group of men and women of honor would drink and be merry. They would form a bond which would never have a deleterious effect on each other or themselves. Jack watched them all, with hope and with confidence, as they talked long into the night.

Chapter V - Isabella Luciano

The East Cat Office, Philadelphia.

August, 19XX

Dimly illuminated as it was, the office above the East Cat offered a challenging working environment. As if the dim lighting was not hindrance enough, the poorly wired electrics resulted in a sporadic flicker. Accompanying it was a persistent hum which became aggravated on every occasion that the electricity decided to fail. Slumped in his chair with pen in hand, Jack paid it little mind. If the man's work ethic could be curbed by such minor inconvenience to his working environment, he'd never get anything done.

The task at hand was diplomacy. Mezzo's role in the world was relatively minimal in the present climate. Not to say that the operation hadn't been running well since founding, business was good, even seeking plans for expansion to a sub-division on the pier. In the grand scheme of things, Jack was still a small fish in a pretty big pond. 

The young man looked at the name on the envelope, penned with his own hand and sealed with an "RS" wax blot.

Salvatore Luciano. The patriarch of the most powerful family in the country, spanning across two cities and holding a significant influential grip across the other five. Jack would be lying if he didn't say he was intimidated by the man. Not many people held the power of life or death over entire districts. He would just need to give the word. 

Mezzo ran a hand over his face and grasped at his cropped brown hair. There was no point fretting over the unknown. What will be, will be. All Jack could do was establish connections with these people and establish mutual interests. He tossed the letter into his pile of outbound mail and took hold of a second. Crimson wax pooled on the fold of envelope and began to settle. After a brief moment, it was disturbed, retreating from the firm press of the stamp. Mezzo lifted it and watched the seal cool.

This one would be delivered by hand.

Godmother Lucania's HQ, Chicago.

August, 19XX

Standing outside the building, Jack found himself hesitating. The voice of his mother was partly responsible, dear Tabitha Gato was in his head again, beseeching him to at least finish his cigarette before entering a Godmothers office. He adhered to the voice, he always did. It would be unwise to reject life lessons which remained so very prominent to the mind as his mothers did. 

Mezzo would, as standard, find himself adorned in a shirt and suspenders, sleeves rolled up and a popped collar. This evening however called for something more socially respectable. A black suit had caught his eye. A fitted jacket and slimline tie finished the look, while his typical heeled brogues with mirrored black surface waited patiently on the sidewalk. Jack exhaled the last column of smoke and discarded his stub. A rummage in the inside pocket of his jacket eventually produced an elaborate invitation. His eyes fell over the typography. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆Isabella's 21^st Birthday bash｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

Where: Marie_Lucania's HQ (shhh no telling!)

when: Tonight

Ends: Whenever we get kicked out!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆Hosted by yours truly Joli Bebe｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

For a moment he considered how such a low level crew leader from a warren overlooking the Delaware river had ended up receiving an invite for such a prestigious occasion. Social events were not his usual calling, though there were a number of birds he could be rid of with this particular stone. A distinctive clap declared his advance up the steps of the HQ as fine Italian shoes struck the concrete. He presented the invitation to the Luciano family security team and proceeded through. It didn't take long for him to find a member of the Chicago outfit's personnel to hand his letter to, they assured Marie would be in receipt of it on her return.

There were a number of significant individuals present at the event. One of which was Don Hope from LA, a genuinely pleasant character who Jack considered a delight to converse with. He offered her his greetings then proceeded through the lounge area. 

He was soon observing one of the most prominent voices on the streets in recent days. Salvatore's daughter, Isabella-Luciano, had been a significant talking point and held a name known across all seven cities. Jack had never been formally introduced to her himself, and was keen to do so. Curiosity surged within him as to the potential such an individual could hold. He wanted to know what kind of a person she really was. Would he find himself with an opportunity to capitalize on, an intelligent, capable, business driven young woman? Or a spoiled socialite that lives in daddy's pocket.

All questions Jack would leave open until he knew the truth. This was not the time to make assumptions.

"Buenosera, signora. My name is Jack Mezzo from Philadelphia."

She appeared to engage almost immediately, despite her attention being pulled in many, almost all, directions. The young woman was dressed in a short black party dress. Her eyes immediately spoke of more than just handouts from the family purse and material worth. She also presented an attractive figure, Jack found his focus dogged with suggestions that had to be forcibly dismissed. His mothers voice then rebuked him for conjuring such sordid thoughts toward someone his junior.

Introductions did not seen to be necessary, as she was already aware of the anecdotes spun out of Jack's corner of the east coast. The exchange lasted a few brief moments, but Jack got what he came for. Isabella Luciano was a resilient, considerate individual. It was something he admired, though Mezzo was artful enough to not assume she was a simple character. There was an esoteric story behind those eyes.

Jack would not live to witness the implications that introduction would have on the Race Street operation. In the years to come, Isabella Luciano would have an immense impact on the small time operation based out on a pier over the Delaware, intertwining her story with many of those close to Mezzo. That story is for another time, though. Presently, the pair would meet again in the weeks following the party, this time with William_Bowden. The product of their discussions would be Purgatory Gym, and the expansion of Race Street.