Chapter 103: Chapter One Hundred and Three

Gloria smiled broadly up at her soon-to-be husband as he walked her the rest of the way to the altar without taking his eyes off her. The gun strapped to her thigh sat heavily against her skin. She tried to ignore it as Father Matthews stepped forward.

“Now that the groom has given his bride a reminder why she wants to marry him,” the father began, much to the amusement of the crowd. Frankie winked down at her, making her smile widen even further. “We can begin.” Father Matthews gave them a nod, then raised his chin to be heard over the crowd. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” called the crowd.

“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and his Son, the Lord Jesus Christ.”

“And with your spirit.”

Then Father Matthews began the lengthy state of prayers he would recite at the request of Frankie’s mother. She wanted the ceremony to be as close to the one they would have received if done within the church. For Frankie and Gloria, it meant a long wait in the heat to get to the good part… and the dinner that came before.

“Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God…” Father Matthews continued.

Frankie’s eyes flitted to the crowd for a moment. Gloria looked over his shoulder at the three men watching the audience as though they expected a bomb to erupt at a word chosen from one of the prayers. Gloria’s smile faltered. Did Frankie feel it too? Did Leo and Conor tell him something as cryptic as Accardi had told her? When she asked why she would need a gun, he refused to answer. It wasn’t until she’d asked the right question.

“It’s my father… you’ve found him?” That made Accardi go quiet, even his heart seemed to stall for a moment as the weight of the silence settled upon her shoulders. “He’s coming… isn’t he?”

Accardi eventually sighed. “We do not know. We can only assume.”

Frankie’s crooked finger touched her chin, bringing her back to the present where the priest continued to speak. She gave him a shaky smile, which he made still by stroking his thumb across her lips. Gloria found herself leaning forward until they were practically embracing each other, the audience before them completely forgotten.

Beautiful, Frankie mouthed, to which she blushed and looked down. Again his crooked finger brought her chin back up. Almost over, he mouthed next.

“Dearly beloved, you have come together into the house of the church…”

Leo moved. Gloria caught the action. A slight shifting of his hand from where he kept them clasped in front to inside his suit jacket where a holster normally sat.

Frankie’s grip on her chin tightened. Gloria looked back at him, her fear climbing. Calm, he mouthed. Whatever happens. Remain calm.

“Frank Juliano Donati the Fourth and Gloria Marie Rubanov, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?” Father Matthews asked.

“I have,” Frankie and Gloria spoke as one. Frankie gave her a look of shock, as if he thought she might back out at the last minute.

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?” Father Matthews asked.

“I am,” they both responded.

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church.”

Frankie lowered his finger from her chin so they could clasp hands.

“I, Frank Juliano Donati the Fourth…” Frankie glared at the front row. “Thanks for the long ass name, Dad,” Frankie couldn’t help but add, making even his father laugh as he swiped a tear from his cheek. Frankie looked back at Gloria and gave her a beaming smile, knowing most women would not take kindly to such an act on their wedding day. “Take you, Gloria Marie Vixen Rubanov, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life.”

He squeezed her hand and Gloria took a deep breath. “I, Gloria...”

“...Marie Rubanov,” a booming voice called from the back of the crowd. “Would be careful about what you speak, as the ‘days of his life are rather numbered.” Before Gloria could find the source, Frankie shifted and she was looking at his back, tense beneath the layers of his suit.

“You are not welcome here, Rubanov,” Frankie spat. Leo, Conor and Accardi simultaneously pulled two guns from their suit jackets. Accardi whistled and snipers appeared on the surrounding rooftops. Men slowly moved out from the bushes, assault rifles pressed firmly to their shoulders.

“Oh, that was made quite clear. I am disappointed in you, daughter.” Ivan’s voice was clearer now and Gloria refused to hide. She ignored Frankie’s protesting hands to step beside him. Ivan Rubanov stood near the back of the crowd in the center of a row of chairs as if he’d been sitting there throughout the entire ceremony. He turned with a smile and ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair as he walked toward the aisle. “I must admit I was rather upset to learn my daughter was getting married. Even more so to hear who she was being bound to. Not receiving an invitation was damaging to my ego and then…” He’d finally reached the aisle and clasped his hands together. “To watch her being given away by a fucking wop.”

Accardi stepped forward, teeth bared, but a single gesture from Frankie stopped him.

“Wow, a dog commanding a man. How intriguing,” Ivan observed of the interaction. “A dog won’t marry my daughter though,” Ivan continued, taking a few steps forward undettered by the numerous rifles pointed at him. “A dog won’t run my family, everything we’ve built. You don’t get to claim what doesn’t belong to you.”

“Are you mafia men given handbooks at birth on what to say in these kind of situations?” Frankie asked Accardi, who looked upward to the sky as if asking God for patience. “Better me, Ivan, than the fucker hiding in his bunker like a child.”

This statement brought Ivan up short. “My opinion of Gloria’s true fiance is neither here nor there…”

“Sergei certainly hasn’t been here or there. He’s been a coward running from every fight presented to him. Me, on the other hand, I am always more than willing to take on a fight.”

Ivan lifted a brow. “Is that a threat or an offer?”

Frankie shrugged. “I always believe it depends on how it’s received.”

“You will not be marrying my daughter,” Ivan growled.

“A threat it is then,” Frankie reasoned. “Did you really think I wouldn’t expect you to show up today?” Frankie asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I counted on it,” Ivan remarked with a cold smile.

“Is that why you came alone? Figured we’d hesitate in killing an old man in front of a priest? You should have known better. I expected more from you, though: explosions, gunfire, the smell of gunpowder and smoke… theatrics. A speech though? How tired,” Frankie guffawed.

Ivan dipped his chin and smirked. “Did I come alone?” he asked. Ivan cupped his hands to his mouth. “Helloooooo!?” Ivan bellowed. Then he cupped his right hand to his ear and tsked when no sound returned. “Pity. I suppose if you refuse to hand over what belongs to me, I’ll have to rely on my bird friends.”

“Go ahead and fuck yourself then, cause ownership transferred over to me months ago.”

Frankie reached behind himself to touch Gloria as if to prepare her, while his other hand went to his pocket. He’d yet to pull a gun. Ivan whistled the tune of a Starling.

“Matteo,” Frankie hissed in warning.

Accardi whistled and rifles adjusted their aim to the areas surrounding the backyard.

“Mom, Dad, down!” Frankie yelled a second before the first of Accardi’s snipers was hit and fell from the roof.

The crowd, which had thus far been quiet while observing the tense confrontation, erupted into chaos. Two more snipers fell at the same time as three men in the surrounding bushes were hit. Screams echoed along the wooden fence caging everyone in.

“Away from the fences!” Frankie ordered.

Accardi’s men threw themselves to the ground while wedding guests ran to the center of the yard as Frankie pulled an object from his pocket and clicked. Explosions rocked the ground at their feet. The fence line erupted in a hailstorm of planked wood, mulch, soil and beautiful flowers. Smoke helped to obscure the yard from the hidden sniper vantage points. Bodies collided as they sought freedom from the haze.

As Gloria was hauled up from the ground she’d fallen to, she pulled her handgun from her thigh. “Mom, Dad, Nora, into the house!” Frankie yelled. “Everyone else, scatter! This isn’t your fight!”

Gloria couldn’t tell if anyone was listening. They didn’t have to, as the moment the fence debris had settled, civilians had run for their cars. Frankie pushed her toward the back door. They ran along the aisle she’d only just walked down. The white linen was now stained black and grey, but luckily no blood had made its mark… yet. A bullet whizzed past her head and she turned to see her father’s men swarming through the side gates, still standing on their metal hinges. Gloria raised her gun and fired, hitting one man between the eyes. Frankie clicked a second button and the flower pots stationed along the gates pinged before becoming engulfed in flame. The next moment they exploded, sending a combination of shrapnel ranging from nails to garden stakes in every direction.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Conor called from the back door.

Gloria glanced around looking for her father but he was nowhere she could see due to the heavy smoke filling the air. She did see Frank Senior and Marge being led inside by Accardi and Leo. Frankie shoved Gloria forward, propelling her into the ‘safety’ of the family home. Frankie waited by the door.

“Come on, come on, Nora,” Frankie growled.

An explosion rocked the yard again and Frankie’s flinch told her it wasn’t one of his. Then he sighed in relief and she knew he saw her. A shot rang out and the piercing scream of a woman broke through the smoke and reverberated across the now silent space.

“Fuck,” Frankie yelled.

“Nora!” Marge screamed.

“Close the fucking door!” Accardi said, shoving Frankie aside to close the door a moment before a hailstorm of gunfire hit the wood, splintering it.

Frankie yanked the light switch from the wall and hit a hidden button. A series of metal clamps sprung from the walls and latched the door tightly shut. Leo, noticing this, ran for the front and shoved Conor to get the side door. Frankie slumped against the back door and shut his eyes.

Gloria watched him for a moment. She noticed his lip was split, his suit jacket was torn and the cuff of his right sleeve was stained red but overall he looked intact. Everyone stood in silence for several minutes as if they all needed time to reconcile what had just happened. A tear slid down her cheek and she restrained herself from saying this was all her fault. Everyone knew it anyway. Saying so would not help their current situation.

“All those repairs,” Frank Senior spoke first.

Frankie opened his eyes and stared across the kitchen at his father, whose suit jacket was coated in dust.

“You were preparing for this… weren’t you?” he asked. “You knew this would happen!”

The accusation hung heavy in the air while Frankie’s chest rose and fell sharply, as if his breathing was trying to match his heart rate. Frank Senior took several harsh steps forward before being stopped by Marge with her arms wrapping around his waist.

“You weren’t helping me fix the house! You were arming it! Preparing! You knew this would happen,” Frank Senior spat. Then his eyes widened and he stepped back as if he’d been struck by a bullet but just now realized it hit a vital organ. “You… you wanted it to happen.”

Frankie took a deep breath and pushed off the door. He threw his suit jacket onto the kitchen table, squared his shoulders and removed the two guns from their holsters. Then he stood up to his father. “Just stay in the house and the fuck out of my way. Once there is an opening, you take the car and you leave. I’ve rigged it so it’s protected and the cops have its description so you won’t be stopped when you hightail it the fuck out of town. Understood?”

Frank Senior pushed Marge away and got into Frankie’s face. “I’m not fucking going anywhere, boy. This is still my house, dammit.”