Pool_1

almost imperceptibly, almost but not actually, backward but pressed on. "I do not talk to Rose and she does not talk to me. It isn't the other woman. Rose and I stopped talking two years ago. I don't know why. I think it's... the business. She.. well she.. what we are is not who she can ever be... It isn't her. I still love her. La rispetto." I respect her, an almost deadly description of a mate as he went hesitatingly on, "But.. it.. I.. This new chance, for me, is not possible, without your blessing. Say no, and you will never hear of it again." Of course, never hearing of it again could have two very different meanings for these men. However, in this context, it really only had the more savory. No Mafia husband could shed a loyal wife - period. Loyalty was the lone deity, above everything. Without loyalty, who could trust you? Small loyalties were tests. Prio could have broken Charles easily with exposure of this perfidy. For sure, Prio's head rushed with a sudden mix of anger, not shown, but then - it rushed even more so with possibilities. Was this the angel of God? Did his own loyalty to a sister mean killing her husband, with whom no relationship remained? Suddenly the finger wagging of Mrs. Franchcesca pointed the way. "Charles," he pressed his left hand on Charles's shoulder with a firm grip, "I will bear your load. I, too, need a favor that only you could grant." Men? Territory? No. These are not favors. These are business. Sabia was hands open in surprised coaxing? Not for a moment had he expected a counter request. Prio had no needs. "I have a second chance, Charles." There were tears welling in his eyes as he spoke, "My son..." placing his right hand on Sabia's other shoulder and pointing at heaven with his left upheld hand, "My son lives!" The Charles Sabia who was never seen in public with even a trace of loss of composure was here wild eyed and signing himself in confused repetition, even getting