Gavin Byrne stood and looked out at the Detroit river passing him by. The river made him feel old. Lots of things made him feel old, lately. But he'd earned those feelings, just like he'd earned the silver hair and his scars. He took a deep breath as he turned and watched his family approach him. Aurora, his beloved daughter, had recently found a new strength and confidence. Billy, his son-in-law, was someone that Gavin considered a son. The Mastrosimones walked together, with Billy's arm around Aurora. Billy was holding onto the hand of Brigitte, while Aurora carried Gavin, his namesake. They were good kids- a good family. Every day, Gavin wished that his daughter would have to chance to live a life like he and Bella had lived. So far, despite the obstacles they'd faced, the Mastrosimones were succeeding in doing so.

It had been a wonderful day for a family outing, and Gavin couldn't help but grin as he saw Brigitte tug on the leash of her new puppy. Gavin had just given it to her as a birthday present, and the girl was obsessed with it. He hadn't asked Rora and Billy if they wanted a puppy but, well, those were the perks of being Gavin Byrne. 

"Billy, get these three packed up? I'll drive back with Aurora, if you don't mind? There were some things I wanted to run through with her."

"Sure, pops. Just make sure you don't fall asleep in the sun, huh?"

Gavin rolled his eyes at his son-in-law, who jovially punched his shoulder and led the kids away with Charlie, where they climbed into a car and headed home. Gavin and Aurora took a few minutes walking to the other car. 

"So... am I trouble? Or are you in trouble?" asked Aurora with a smirk.

"Neither, for once," said Gavin, "hop in. You can drive, if you'd like. Exercise some of those Hot Rod tendencies of yours..."

A few minutes later, Rora was behind the wheel pushing the car to its limit. Gavin sighed, remembering a ride that ended with a moose... seemed like a million years ago.

"I'm proud of you, Squirt. You're way too hard on yourself, and you've second guessed yourself too much. I'm glad to see that, as you're getting older, you learned the same lesson your mother did: to just do whatever is in your power, and let the chips fall. You've built a lot more than you think. Just... be yourself. Be unapologetically yourself."

"What, are you dying or something?" queried Aurora with a raised eyebrow.

"Not that I know of," smirked Gavin, "just feeling... strangely reflective today. I've been thinking about your mother a lot- even more than usual. Tara. Uncle Will. Jack." He shrugged. "I'm getting old. I don't need an excuse to reminisce and dispense wisdom." 

"No... I suppose you don't."

"Not many people have built a family like you have. Well... other than me." Gavin grinned. "It's a tough line to walk. If you step too far away from the business, then what the hell are you even doing in the business? But if you commit too much to the business... well, then what the hell is the point, if not to pass it on?"

His sky-blue eyes studied Rora's face.

"I know I've taught you a lot of things. I learned a lot in my life. I tried to keep the bad stuff to myself, to pass on what was good to you and Will.  And I know you'll pass those things along to Brigitte and Gav, too. I'm proud of you, Aurora. Very proud."

Gavin smiled at her before he turned to look out the window. The rest of the car ride was spent reminiscing, and Gavin talked much more than he usually did, telling stories about his childhood, about Tara, about Jack, Bella, Will, Stella, and all the people who'd impacted his life. Aurora was always keen when Gavin opened up, and on this particular ride he shared anything she wanted to know. By the time they'd pulled in to the house, Aurora felt like she'd absorbed Gavin's entire life story.

As they pulled in to the driveway, Gavin saw Billy just emerging from the car in front of them; Aurora had caught up during the drive. 

The Mastrosimone-Byrne family walked toward the house, entirely at peace. Until they weren't. 

Gavin, Aurora, Billy, and Charlie all noticed it at the same time: the flash of light in the distance, a glare from binoculars- or a sniper scope from the treeline. 

They all moved instinctively. Billy shielded Brigitte and Gav with his body as he moved toward the house, with Charle immediately stepping forward to cover Billy. Rora darted forward to protect her own children, as she should, and Gavin did the same, lunging in front of Aurora instinctively. 

When the rifle cracked, Gavin felt it before he heard it- and he knew it was bad. He dropped to his knee and forced himself up again as he helped push Aurora toward to the door. He forced himself to keep moving, to stay between Aurora and the shooter, and the second shot hit him in the chest. This time, he dropped to his knee and couldn't stand. With labored breathing, Gavin watched as Billy grabbed Rora and pulled her inside. He could see her screaming, but he couldn't hear the words.

Gavin blinked. At least the kids weren't seeing this. Charlie would have them inside.

Another breath.

He looked down to see the yard. Red. Gavin placed a hand against his stomach and saw it oozing blood. Too much. No... this was probably it. 

A strange sense of calm suddenly permeated him. A numbness, maybe physical. 

As the third shot slammed into the open door where either Rora or Billy had just peaked their head out of, Gavin took a deep breath and rose unsteadily to this feet. As he shuffled toward the shooter, he tried to focus on the task at hand. He could hear Bella's voice in his ear, feel her pushing him forward. 

The fourth shot hit Gavin in the shoulder, spinning him around and dropping him to his feet, but he bounced up almost immediately and began running with his pistol in his hand. His body was going cold, but it made it easier to ignore the pain.

Gavin reached the treeline before the fifth shot could be fired; it was getting harder for him to see, but he emptied his magazine at the shooter and knew that at least one shot hit. 

The gun fell from his hand, and Gavin stumbled backwards, sliding down against the trunk of an old oak tree. He looked up into the leaves, remembering climbing a tree very much like that with Tara in his childhood. Stopping Bella from punching a tree. Teaching Rora and Will how to climb.

He blinked.

"Oh... shit."

As the world grew dark, he looked up into Rora's face. She was talking to him, and he heard "dad", but he couldn't hear much.

"You'll be fine, Rora," he said quietly. "You'll be fine. Family."

Blinking, he gave her a reassuring smirk as he squeezed her hand.

And died. 

Alessandro Bianchi had shot many, many people in his life. He rarely had to shoot them more than once. One primary target, the big Don, had moved to the house too quickly. The other primary target, the woman, had been shielded by the old bastardo. Twice, he thought he'd had her- and twice the man had put himself in his scope. Cursing, he continued to shoot at the old man to at least remove him from the equation. 

As he continued shooting, Alessandro became increasingly convinced that he was dealing with a higher power. The man should not be walking- but he was running. He should not be able to stand, but here he was raising a gun to-

The shot from the old man's gun struck Alessandro between the eyes, freezing his face in an expression of confusion forever. 

______

One Week Earlier

"The boss will see you now, Signore Biachi."

Rising, Alessandro walked into the office of Giancarlo Mattaranzi. One did not keep the Godfather-Chairman of Venice waiting. When Alessandro entered and took the indicated seat, he waited for Mattaranzi to speak, as was wise.

Giancarlo Mattaranzi was not only the head of the Venetian underworld; he was also its most wealthy and influential businessman and benefactor. With the amount that he'd purchased politicians, he had as much control of Venice as the Medicis ever had in Florence. He was, without a doubt, one of the most powerful criminals in the world, with his fingers in every pie in Italy and a dozen others around the continent. 

So yes, Alessandro waited for the older man to speak first. Mattaranzi had grey hairs, but he seemed in decent enough shape; he hadn't lost the fire that had helped him consume Venezia. 

"Alessandro."

"Godfather."

"I have a job for you."

"Name them, and they will die."

"Billy Mastrosimone. Aurora Mastrosimone. Formerly of Las Vegas, Nevada. Now located in Detroit. They were running a crew- a crew that my daughter had joined. They failed to protect her- although they seemed to scurry away with their own lives without much trouble. Eliminate them."

"Of course, Godfather."

"... do not harm their children. They have two. Although I am tempted by the justice in trying to take their daughter away, just as mine was taken... for now, focus your efforts on the two of them. If I change my mind, you'll hear from me."

"Of course, Godfather."

When Alessandro left, Giancarlo Mattaranzi turned and surveyed his city from the large, bulletproof window behind his desk. He had all this... and no one to pass it down to. His beautiful Lia...

Clenching his fist, Mattaranzi returned to his files. Alessandro was one of the most skilled assassins in Italia, but Mattaranzi didn't plan on leaving anything to chance. He had three more appointments today with some of the best killers in Europe, and he planned on sending them all after the Mastrosimones. 

When avenging a loved one, there was no such thing as overkill.

PHILADELPHIA, PA

IN THE NOT SO DISTANT FUTURE

"Representative Byrne!"

"Mr. Byrne!?!"

The blinding flash of bulbs the voices calling out from all directions as he descended the front steps of the halls of power.  Today had been the opening salvo in a war that Will Byrne had been working years to begin waging.  

Will paused as one of the journalists stepped in front of him, blocking his path to his car.  "MR. BYRNE!"  The man's boldness had to be admired.  "In the wake of your proposal today, House Resolution 124, it's a move against organized crime in the state of Pennsylvania..."

"It's only the beginning,"  Will said confidently, adjusting his suit jacket and attempting to move forward.

"Yes, but, one has to question if you're the right person to be pushing for these changes in state policy.  After all, sources still maintain that your late father is tied to no less than six unsolved murders and your mother was allegedly known as Godmother of the notorious Race Street Operation here in Philadelphia.  What do you say to this?"

For a moment the crowd went silent.  It was a professional misstep to speak ill of the dead... especially if the reporter really feared that William's family was the mafia.  People who did shit like that disappeared all the time on his mother's watch.  Will's icy blue eyes stared down the fedora-wearing reporter.

"She wasn't ..."  He said firmly, unshaken by the accusations.  "... allegedly the Godmother of Philadelphia, Isabella Byrne WAS the Godfather Chairman of Philadelphia." 

If it had been chaos a moment ago, it was pure madness now as a thousand voices seemed to shout questions at him all at once.  Camera bulbs flashed so frequently that Will couldn't see.  His face would be on the front page of every paper on the east coast tomorrow morning.  'State Rep. Admits Mother Was Crime Lord.'

But William wasn't ashamed... he was heartbroken and he was pissed off, but the anger was a slow burn that had been going for years now and no two-bit reporter was going to get him to lose is temper today.  Not on a day he'd been planning for so many years now. 

"And it is because I lost her, my father, my aunt, countless family friends and distant relatives to mob violence that I'm uniquely qualified to speak on this matter.  Who do you suggest would be better to speak out against the evils of organized crime than a man who was once a young boy watching in horror as his mother was executed right before his very eyes?"

Will leaned in on the reporter, his eyes narrowed.  "I was dragged out of her arms, screaming ... screaming for justice.  Today I begin my quest for that justice.  Today we put the world on notice that our city, this whole state, is no longer a place for criminals to do their 'business.'  For those who choose this path in life I say to you... 'your days are numbered.'  No more will we stand by silently as men and women exploit the pain and suffering of our country in the wake of this Great Depression for their own gains!  Truth and Justice will out, this is the promise of our great nation and it is to this noble ideal which I have dedicated my life.  If only someone had done it sooner... perhaps I would still have a family here beside me."

Will pushed forward to his car.  Another reporter called out a question that caused him to nearly miss a step, "MR. BYRNE WHAT ABOUT THE ALLEGATIONS THAT YOUR SISTER AND HER HUSBAND, OF DETROIT'S FIRST LEGION CRIME FAMILY, WERE NOT KILLED IN THE RECENT MOB WAR?!  ARE YOU PREPARED TO TAKE DOWN YOUR OWN SISTER?"

William didn't like being wrong, especially about his temper.  It was rare that someone triggered it without him expecting it... but when it happened, he was as dangerous as any man who had ever come from his mother or father's bloodlines.  Of course, he could never let any member of the press know this.

Will turned to the voice who had yelled over the crowd, a rare female reporter met his gaze unflinching.  "What's your name - what paper are you from?"

"Angie Blanco, freelance writer occasionally associated with the Chicago Sun-Times."

"Miss Blanco... I sincerely doubt my sister is alive.  No one has found evidence to support that and I'm to understand the damage to the city and the businesses there were devastating."

"But if she is... what would you say to her?"

He could feel every reporter holding their breath as they waited for him to give the quote that would make them a mint in paper sales, "Never Return."

"MR BYRNE?!"

"REPRESENTATIVE..."

Will's bodyguard opened the car door and he got inside.  He'd take no further questions today.  If Rora was still alive... he hoped she heard his message loud and clear.  Nothing was left for her here now.  If she got out.  If she and Billy were alive, he prayed they'd gotten the kids far away from this place... somewhere no one would think to look for them... and that they would stay there to live the lives Mom and Dad always wanted for them.  Together in peace.  Safe.

As for him, the Dragon still had much work to do to protect and avenge his family ...

NEWFOUNDLAND, CANADA

Gavin scampered up into the thick lower limbs of the great oak and rested there silent as the grave.  He could hear the crunching of leaves and could track the movement beneath him without looking just from the sound.  Below, Tara paid no heed to stealth and tore about searching for Gavin's hiding place.  She giggled sure she would find him in the old log but sighed when she did not spot him there.  She paused a moment to gather some white flowers for her mother and then darted over to the big rock that looked like their dog Mr. Wuffles ... but Gavin was not there either.

"GAVIN?  TARA?"  Their mother's voice called out.  Gavin lept from the tree hitting the ground at a run, his long legs taking strides his little sister couldn't keep up with.  

"NO FAIR!"  She squealed chasing him.

Gavin laughed.  "CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!"  He taunted over his shoulder.

"BRIGITTE!  BRING THE TWINS INSIDE IT'S TIME FOR DINNER."  Aurora called out loudly.

Gavin sprinted past his older sister where she was sitting on a blanket reading to the toddlers Jack and Isabella.  The book was a gift from the city that their father sometimes made long trips to in order to bring supplies from the outside world - just as he had today.  

Gavin tore into the house, past his mother who was fixing her hair on the porch to where Billy Mastrosimone was already seated at the table.  The giant of a man was dressed in well worn-out jeans and a simple white t-shirt.  On the back of the chair was his jacket which Gavin's mother would mend for his father every time it got hung up on something out in the woods.  

Billy smirked at his wife as she walked back into the house and brought a pot pie in a cast-iron pot off the fire and over to the table.  The devilish smirk became a bright thing of joy at the sight of the teen, Brigitte, who put the twins down into a small gated area of the floor to play safely. 

There was a time which Brigitte could recall when they'd first moved here  ... after Neil's death and her kidnapping - after Grampa Gavin was murdered and the war in Detroit, where they ate more pancakes than anything else.  However, in the past ten years, Brigitte's mother had become quite the resourceful cook learning to turn almost any wild game into a feast.

Her father had also changed.  No longer the lumbering force of nature loudly trampling the undergrowth as he tried to move through the forest without killing himself... he was now a masterful hunter, not unlike his wife & Brigitte's late grampa. 

"Did you get it?"  Brigitte asked her father kissing his cheek.  

"I did."  Billy pulled a large duffle bag out from under the table and from it pulled two new records.  Brigitte beamed.  "Two?"

He shrugged but he was smiling like the cat who ate the canary.

Brigitte threw her arms around her father and squeezed him tight.  "Oh, thank you, Papa!"

"What did I get?"  Gavin asked sitting down at the table already grabbing for biscuits, receiving a swat on the hand from his mother for his troubles.  

"We say grace at this table before we eat, Mister, you know better."  She chided her tween son.

Billy reached into his sack and pulled out two books and put them on the table in front of Gavin.  His face lit up at the sight of the titles.  "Thanks Dad!"

"Do I get something?"  Tara meekly asked trying to peek into her father's bag.  Billy hadn't even noticed the girl slipping over and getting into it!  He laughed in response.

"Everyone has something..."  he pulled out a small box and gave it to her.  The little girl tore into it with zeal and pulled out bits of fabric and thread.  "I can make dresses for my dolls!  Look Gavin!  Brigitte!  They'll be fancy city dresses!"

Jazz music suddenly shattered the peace of the cabin as Brigitte's record started.  "And I've got the music they're playing in the club where your dolls go out dancing!"

"Dancing?"  Billy said standing up and moving towards his wife who just put down a pitcher of water in the middle of the table.  Grabbing her hand he pulled her away into the middle of the room.  "You mean like this?!?"

Billy laughed as he twirled Aurora across the wooden floor.  The children laughed and joined them.  Still in the bag, under the table, there were other gifts... for the twins, and for his wife.  Most were practical things, but others were things that kept them tied to their past... and thinking of the future: weapons and information.

Their people hadn't yet figured out who was behind the hit that was very much still active on them ... even after the Detroit takedown, but one day they would get a name and when they did... their whole lives would change again.  For now, they were no one of importance, living in the middle of nowhere, on the same earth where the Byrne's story had begun. 

Like their forefathers in Sicily, they had returned to the earth that Aurora's father & his sister had been born & were raised upon.  Here Aurora had given birth to most of their own children and here, away from the rest of the world, she finally felt she was at home once more.