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[marcello-lomazzo]

“I love spending in Italy. I don’t get to do that very often, but it always feel like home. Even though I am New York born and bred.” He said with a gentle smile, reminiscing the vacations he’d spend in Italy with Dante and his siblings.

“I’m..a...businessman,” Marcello said after a brief hesitation. Saying out loud he was a heir to crime family, a mobster who was into drug dealings, wasn’t probably the best idea, even though the chances of the young man being a loyalist himself was high. 

“What about you?”

Tense Relations, Choppy Waves || Open

Italians are all family, regardless of the last name. Anybody who was anybody, meaning anyone who was truly Italian, knew that. He was glad to see it was still the same out here in America. “I appreciate that. It was a brief blast of being in Roma again,” Alessandro agreed. “What do you do for work, Marcello?” Always a good question to ask someone new if there was a possibility they worked for the same person. The responses were generally the same. Business men. Harbor Masters, politicians, the like. Who knew, maybe they were both Mafioso.

[marcello-lomazzo]

I understand, it’s certainly a nuisance. But your family won’t bother scrolling TMI, nor will our newborn baby, so try not to give a crap about it.

I care.

Not because I think you or anyone else thinks it’s true, but because my family shouldn’t be reading those kinds of things and neither should Aurélie’s. And I don’t want you or our son seeing that kind of stuff either. It’s embarrassing.

[marcello-lomazzo]

He may haven’t grown up in Italy, but Marcello Lomazzo was an Italian down to his core. Since the day he was born, Italian traditions and customs have been engraved in his brain not only by his father, but the whole family. 

Whenever he saw an Italian, his protective instincts always kicked in. This time was no exception. Arms crossed, he leaned on the table next to the young man and watched as the Russian took his leave.

“Marcello Lomazzo and likewise. Seems like you’ve got the situation handled, but back up is never too much.”

Tense Relations, Choppy Waves || Open

The Russian man, who’d been bad mouthing Italians and making comments about the recent events stood frozen, looking between the new threats who had appeared.

“Did I not make myself clear?” Alessandro said quietly, stepping up to the man. After a few tense seconds the man muttered something in Russian and retreated, snatching his coat from the chair he had sat at and making for the door. It took everything in Alessandro to simply let him walk away. He turned to the man he’d never met, who’d backed him up. “Thank you for the help, friend.” Alessandro extended his hand in greeting, his eyes taking in the other man. “Alessandro Coccioletti, I’m new in town. It’s nice to meet you.”

[marcello-lomazzo]

...And if you’re having trouble finding the door, being flown out of the window is always an option.

Tense Relations, Choppy Waves || Open

Judging by your attitude I take it an Italian hasn’t given you much trouble before. But, you see, I’m not from here. I’m a stranger to your American customs, so you’ll have to forgive me for not putting up with your entitlement. Now, are we going to have a problem, or are you going to leave?

[marcello-lomazzo]

Let it go, Ron. Who cares about the stupid tabloid article? 

Nope. Can’t leave me alone for more than a few hours apparently.

[marcello-lomazzo]

It indeed is the rule. So, are you waiting for an invitation written in cursive or what?

Welcome to the club. Cambiamo argomento.

How’s the new place looking? It’s not really a home until you’ve had your best friend over for dinner, and obscene amounts of beer. I’m just saying. Pretty sure it’s that’s a rule. 

[marcello-lomazzo]

You didn’t waste your time while I was in New York, did you?

Wow. Thank God for TMI. So glad I have them to keep me updated on things that I didn’t even know about myself. 

[marcello-lomazzo]

Text @ Ronnie

Ronnie: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Ronnie: I don't know what's funnier to imagine, you agreeing to take the selfie or the face you were making in the selfie.

Ronnie: Hey, now that you're famous, do you think I could get your autograph?

Marcello: She seemed so sweet, I couldn't say now.

Marcello: Get in line, please.

Marcello: BTW I was famous in New York. Can't believe I'm saying that like it's a good thing.

[marcello-lomazzo]

Text @ Ronnie

Marcello: A teenager asked me for a selfie.

Marcello: Then she ran away screaming "I HAVE A SELFIE WITH RONNIE'S HUSBAND."

Marcello: I am having mixed emotions about this.

[marcello-lomazzo]

I know. He might not end up being an Auditore heir, but he will be a Lomazzzo one. 

Anyway, it’s a discussion we might have to go back to in a few decades, definitely not now.

My mother was the youngest of four siblings and my grandfather still chose her as his successor. And I think she’s done a pretty damn good job thus far. She’s given everything and then some to make this family what is it.

Age has absolutely nothing to do with it. And for the record, he won’t just be a Lomazzo.

[marcello-lomazzo]

You don’t have to tell me twice, fratello. My blood still boils from anger.

You might be on to something.

In-keeping with the rest of Launceston, I’m ready to see some Russians bleed. I can understand the Auditore priorities lie elsewhere, but I’m finding it harder to wrangle my impatience. Sasha wasn’t enough. 

[marcello-lomazzo]

He’s the oldest Lomazzo, my legacy.

Don’t say that. He can still do normal stuff like any normal kid would do. Just not sports.

Besides, if we ever make the decision to have more kids and we wind up having a daughter, Nathan won’t have anything to worry about. 

[marcello-lomazzo]

Who am I kidding? He’s the future heir to Lomazzo and Auditore families. Sports won’t be in store for him.

I hope not. Maybe it’s just been my experience, but every male athlete I’ve ever known has been a huge asshole.

[marcello-lomazzo]

Maybe he’ll grow up an athlete.

Either he’s getting bigger or all of my jeans have shrunk in the wash. Not to mention he’s also incredibly keen on waking me up at 6 am every other day with his miniature baby feet savagely kicking my insides. 

[marcello-lomazzo]

Palermo, for the funerals.

Yep, your face confirms it. Where did you go?

[marcello-lomazzo]

What was that? Can’t hear you, my ears have exploded. Don’t ever get on a plane.

I have never been flying, I think I’m too scared… What is it like? Is true your ears really explode?

[marcello-lomazzo]

Launceston syndrome, I guess. 

Didn’t think it was possible, but you look as shit as I feel.