Chapter 9
The air in the sunlit garden felt heavy, suffocating under the weight of Serafina’s death sentence. The vivid colors of the summer afternoon—the lush green grass, the bright white canopy fabric, the deep blue of the sky—seemed to mock the dark, fatal reality of the moment.
"Take them," Serafina commanded, her voice slicing through the silence like a scalpel.
The Capos moved instantly. Four large, imposing men broke formation. Two of them hauled a violently thrashing, screaming Nolan up from the grass, dragging him by his expensive polo shirt. The other two converged on the broken canopy frame, lifting a weeping, terrified Victor by his arms, dragging his polished shoes across the dirt.
"Serafina, have mercy!" Victor wailed, his voice echoing off the high stone walls of the estate. "I'll leave the country! You'll never see us again! Please!"
"Gag them," Serafina ordered, entirely unmoved by their pleas. "Put them in the soundproof transport vans. Take them to the warehouse by the docks. I will deal with them personally once the party is over."
"Yes, Boss," the lead Capo nodded respectfully.
Within seconds, the screams of the two men were muffled as heavy tactical tape was slapped across their mouths. They were dragged brutally across the lawn, disappearing through the heavy wooden gates leading to the service driveway.
Serafina stood in the center of the garden, taking a slow, deep breath. She smoothed the front of her tailored three-piece suit, her demeanor shifting seamlessly back from a ruthless Mafia Boss to a concerned, elegant mother. She turned around and knelt on the grass beside her children.
"Leo, Mia," Serafina said, her voice warm and comforting. She reached out, gently cupping Leo’s rosy face, checking him for any serious injuries. "Are you hurt, my brave boy?"
"I'm okay, Mom," Leo said, his voice trembling slightly, but his blue eyes shone with a profound mixture of awe and relief. "You hit him really hard."
"He deserved to be hit very hard," Serafina smiled softly, kissing his forehead. She pulled Mia into a tight hug, the little girl burying her face into her mother’s shoulder. "No one is ever going to hurt you. I promise."
"What about the party, Mrs. Bellandi?" the head of the catering staff asked nervously, stepping out hesitantly from the patio, holding a silver tray of appetizers with shaking hands.
Serafina stood up, holding both of her children by the hands. She looked around the garden, at the stunned, silent guests who were staring at her with newfound, absolute terror.
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"The party continues," Serafina announced, her crisp American accent projecting clearly over the lawn. "Please, enjoy the food. Drink the wine. Celebrate. Because as of today, the Bellandi family is finally, completely united."
No one dared to argue. The string quartet, shivering slightly, immediately picked up their instruments and began playing a lively, cheerful tune, creating a surreal, bizarre contrast to the violence that had just occurred.
