A lot has happened in the time since Marco’s last entry. His cousin Johnny gunned down in the war of Detroit, his Nana was in an assisted living facility not too far from him. But at this point, that’s ancient history.

It wasn’t long after Johnny’s death that Marco was summonsed to appear before luciano_lucky, in his home of all places. In this thing of ours, being let into ANYONE’s home (let alone the boss’), you did one of two things;

-You fucked up big time, or you did something remarkably good. And Marco was about to find out where his fate laid once again with the Godfather. Déjà vu is a cold, calculating bitch.

Marco entered Lucky’s home, guided by what he assumed to be paid help upstairs to the Boss’ den. He knocked on the door, and he waited.

“You may enter”

Came from the other side of the door, the sound slightly muffled. Marco opened the door, revealing Lucky, sitting at his desk.

“Take a seat Marcellino, we need to talk.”

Marco sits down, unsure of whether to strike up conversation or not. Before he could even fathom what to do next, Lucky began.

“Marcellino, time and time again since working for me you’ve proved useful and loyal. Those two things will never go unnoticed in my family. First of all, I’d like to offer my condolences about your cousin Johnny, I understand the two of you were quite close. It was an unfortunate thing that happened over there in Detroit. But in this life, this thing of ours, you’ve about an eighty five percent chance of going out the same way. You could’ve jumped ship then, taken off when shit hit the fan, but here we are. When I sent you to Philly to take care of that thing for me for a friend of mine, you did it, no questions asked. You’re a top earner and a loyal associate to this family. I’ve brought you here today because it’s time for you to not only become a friend of mine, but a friend of ours. You’ve well and truly earned your button and the right to call yourself a part of this family. OUR family.”

And now, the made man ceremony begun.

Marco raised his trigger finger, Lucky drew blood from it, his finger dripping on a picture of Saint Peter. Marco then took the picture, lit the picture and turned it between his two hands reciting the oath. Once that was over and done with, Marco was reborn-as a made man.

In the weeks after, he felt untouchable, bulletproof, on top of the world. He was commanding his own crew of underlings, recruiting for the family, money was gushing in, life couldn’t have been better.

Internally, there’d been some altering to the family hierarchy, Marco wasn’t entirely sure what. Guys were being made, some being moved up, some even moving on. But amongst the LA re-rank, he too was included in the change. Only what felt like moments after being made, Marco was promoted to Caporegime. The task at hand was simple, be at the soldiers’ beck and call for any queries or assistance and take kickbacks for your services, although, the workload definitely kept him on his toes. Standing from where he was, he viewed La Cosa Nostra from a new light, a new set of eyes. This thing of ours that those before us have taken years and their own lives to construct, was a working industry, just like all those other honest earning, tax paying schmuck corporations. Only difference being, we were the law for those who couldn’t live under the law. A community for those who live by their own rules. And we were the ones who wrote the laws within, and the ones who enforced them.

After some time in his role, former left hand man of the family Scratchy was given the appropriate authorisation to branch off from Lucky and start his own family under the LA outfit. The whole family was pleased and proud of Scratchy for being given the responsibility and trust that he’d earned to take on such a role that very few of us live to fulfil. Back at HQ, that left a seat at the top of the table empty. That’s when things changed once again, this being the biggest one of all.

It was a cold winter night, Marco was in bed, asleep. He was woken by the phone in his apartment ringing. In a half asleep, confused and dazed state, he answers it.

“Marco, meet me down at that joint a few blocks from here, the place by the other place, it’s urgent.”

It was Lucky, Marco knew exactly what place it was. He grabbed his coat and headed out. After arriving, Lucky and him sat down and had a drink.

“As you know, Scratchy has gone to set up his own shop here in LA, I need someone who knows the business and someone I can trust to take his place as part of not only the head of the table, but as part of the head of the city. And I can’t think of a better person to do it than you. You start tomorrow. Get in nice and early and I’ll go over the books with you.”

This was a lot to take in considering only twenty minutes previous, Marco was out like a light. But nonetheless, he understood and he wore the badge with pride.

“Saluti mi Padrino. The pleasure is mine.”

Now the rest of the story has yet to write itself, but this so far concludes the story of once two bit tough guy turned king of the block, Marcellino Romano. A name now set in stone in the LA outfit.

Isa stopped to listen to Mr. Romano. He spoke with confidence. She could sense how proud and honored he was at this very moment. When he was finished Isa walked up to Mr. Romano and shook his hand. 

"Congratulations Mr. Romano! And best wishes to you and yours with your new responsibilities. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to come out here to introduce yourself." 

Before leaving she hands him a bottle of her favorite wine and gives him a hug.