Chapter 4: A Deal with the Devil

The dusty streets of Palermo were a world of contradictions. Beauty and decay lived side by side, with sunlit piazzas and ancient architecture coexisting with crumbling buildings and alleys steeped in shadows. For Dominic Valente, those streets had become both a burden and a proving ground.

At fifteen years old, Dominic's burdens were immense. Since his father died, he had taken on every odd job available to aid his mother, Elena, in supporting their family. Each day was a cycle of toil, exhaustion, and fleeting pride when he handed over his earnings.

Yet beneath his resolve, a quiet fury simmered. The world had stolen his father, and notions of fairness or justice seemed like cruel jokes.

A Chance Encounter

One day, as Dominic hauled crates of supplies for a grocer near the market, he caught the attention of a group of older boys loitering nearby. One of them, a boy with slicked-back hair and a crooked grin, called out to him.

"Hey, ragazzo!" the boy said. "What are you, a mule? Carrying all that for pennies?"

Dominic stopped, glaring at the boy. "What do you care?"

The boy laughed and hopped down. "Relax, kid. Name Is Enzo. Just saying you're working too hard for scraps."

Dominic eyed him but said nothing, turning back to his crates. Enzo wasn't put off. He followed Dominic to the grocer's stall, walking backward with arms spread wide.

"Look at you. A little sweat, a little muscle, and you think you're going to save the world?" Enzo asked, half-teasing, half-curious.

"I'm saving my family," Dominic replied curtly, setting the crates down with a thud.

Enzo tilted his head, examining Dominic. "You're sharper than most. You've got fire in you, piccolo. I like that."

Dominic ignored him, but Enzo's presence lingered in his mind.

A Proposition

The next time Dominic saw Enzo was near the docks. Delivering a package for a merchant, his small frame navigated through the crowds. Enzo spotted him and fell in step beside him.

"You're not getting rid of me this time," Enzo said with a grin.

"I don't have time for games," Dominic replied.

"Good," Enzo said. "Neither do I. Listen, kid, you're wasting your talent. Running around for pennies when you could be earning real money."

Dominic looked at him skeptically. "Doing what?"

"Nothing crazy," Enzo said nonchalantly. "Small jobs. Easy stuff. People like us? We deserve more than scraps. Stick with me, and I'll show you how to get what you're owed."

Dominic hesitated. Enzo's words were tempting but edged with unease. Still, the thought of earning more for his mother and Clara overrode his doubts.

"What do I have to do?" Dominic asked.

Enzo's grin widened. "Now you're talking."

Small-Time Criminal Activities

Enzo wasted no time pulling Dominic into his world. Their first job was simple: stealing fruit from an unattended market stall. For Enzo, it was child's play, but Dominic felt a rush of nerves as they dashed through the crowded square, their loot hidden under their shirts.

"That was easy," Enzo said, tossing Dominic an apple as they ducked into an alley.

"It's wrong," Dominic muttered, though he took a bite.

Enzo laughed. "Wrong? You think the guy we stole from cares about you? The world doesn't play fair, piccolo. You take what you need or get left behind."

Enzo's logic stuck with Dominic, though he tried convincing himself he was doing it only to help his family.

Over the next few weeks, Enzo introduced Dominic to other small-time schemes: sneaking into warehouses for supplies, acting as a lookout during dice games, and running messages for shady people.

"You've got a knack for this," Enzo told him after a successful job. "You're quick, smart, and calm under pressure. That's rare."

Dominic didn't reply, but part of him felt pride. For the first time since his father's death, he felt some control over his life.

Meeting Franco Rinaldi

One day, Enzo brought Dominic to a small café on the neighborhood's edge. The café seemed unremarkable, but Dominic noticed how people moved with quiet respect around the back room.

"This is where the real business happens," Enzo whispered as they entered.

They were greeted by Franco Rinaldi, a man whose authority was unmistakable. Franco, in his late thirties, was stocky, impeccably dressed, with sharp eyes that missed nothing. A cigar smoldered between his fingers as he looked up from his money counting.

"This the kid you've been telling me about?" Franco asked gruffly.

"Dominic Valente," Enzo said, nudging Dominic forward. "He's sharper than anyone I've seen."

Franco studied Dominic for a long moment. "You're young," he said.

"I'm smart," Dominic replied, meeting Franco's gaze without flinching.

A slow smile spread across Franco's face. "I like him."

Franco's Lessons

Seeing potential in Dominic, Franco took him under his wing, starting with small tasks to test his intelligence and loyalty.

"You listen, learn, and keep your mouth shut," Franco told him. "Do that, and you'll go far."

One of Franco's first lessons was about loyalty.

"This life is built on trust," Franco explained one evening in the café's back room. "Break that trust, and you're finished. Simple as that."

Another lesson came when Franco handed Dominic cash to distribute to neighborhood shopkeepers.

"Why are we giving them money?" Dominic asked.

Franco smirked. "We're not giving. We're reminding them who they owe. Power isn't about money, Hawk—it's about control."

The nickname "Hawk" came after Franco noticed Dominic's ability to spot patterns and predict outcomes.

"You see things others don't," Franco said. "That's your strength. Use it."

A Test of Character

One night, Franco called Dominic and Enzo to the café for a job to test Dominic's resolve.

"There's a man who owes me money," Franco said, coldly. "He thinks he can ignore me. I need you two to send a message."

Dominic's stomach churned as Franco handed him a baton. "What kind of message?"

"The kind he won't forget," Franco replied.

Enzo gave Dominic an encouraging nudge. "You've got this, Dom. Just a few hits, and we're done."

They found the man in a dimly lit alley, middle-aged, worn clothes, and face lined with worry.

"Please," the man begged as Dominic approached. "I just need more time."

Dominic hesitated, the baton heavy in his hand. The man's fear reminded him of his own father, standing defenseless during the raid that took his life.

"Do it," Enzo urged, low and urgent.

Dominic clenched his jaw and swung the baton, the impact echoing in the alley. He struck twice more before stepping back, hands trembling.

"That's enough," Enzo said, pulling Dominic away.

Leaving, Dominic felt hollow. He'd passed Franco's test, but at what cost?

Returning to the café, Franco greeted them with a satisfied smile.

"Well done, boys," he said, tossing Dominic cash. "You've got what it takes, Hawk."

Dominic nodded, feeling no pride in the accomplishment.

Franco placed a hand on Dominic's shoulder. "Remember, Hawk: Power comes to those willing to take it. You've got a bright future in this business."

That night, Dominic lay awake in his small bedroom, the weight of his actions pressing down. He'd started a path he couldn't turn back from, thrilling and terrifying him.

His younger sister, Clara, peeked in, her soft voice breaking the silence. "Dominic? Are you okay?"

Dominic forced a smile. "I'm fine, Clara. Go back to bed."

But as Clara left, Dominic wondered if he was lying to himself.

A Test of Loyalty

The following day Dominic Valente sat at a corner table in Franco Rinaldi's café, the dim light casting long shadows over the faded wallpaper. The faint hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes from the main room felt distant, almost muted. Dominic's mind was consumed by the words Franco had spoken just moments earlier.

"I've got a job for you, Hawk," Franco had said, the nickname carrying a weight that Dominic was beginning to understand. "A job that'll show me just how far you're willing to go."

It was a test, that much was clear. Dominic had proven himself capable in the small tasks—deliveries, scouting, running messages—but this was different. Franco's piercing gaze told him this was the moment that would define his future.

Dominic and Enzo were to intercept a shipment of cash being transported by a rival crew. It wasn't just about the money; it was about sending a message. Franco wanted the rival crew to know that crossing him came at a cost.

"You'll have to handle this carefully," Franco had said, pointing to a map spread out on the table. "They'll have a guard or two, but they won't expect someone like you. Get in, take the cash, and leave them a little... reminder."

Dominic's stomach churned at the last part, but he kept his face neutral. "What kind of reminder?" he asked. Franco smiled coldly. "Break something—bones, crates, their confidence. Just make sure they know it was me who sent you."

Dominic glanced at Enzo, whose grin was wide and eager. "We've got this," Enzo said confidently.

Dominic nodded, though a part of him wondered if this was a line he was truly ready to cross.

The Setup

The shipment was scheduled to pass through an abandoned warehouse near the docks late that evening. Dominic and Enzo arrived early, scouting the area and noting the best vantage points.

"You think Franco's watching us?" Enzo asked as they crouched behind a stack of crates.

"Franco's always watching," Dominic replied, his voice low.

Enzo chuckled. "Then let's give him a show."

As the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse, Dominic motioned for Enzo to stay low. Two men entered, carrying a large duffel bag between them. They were armed but relaxed, their body language suggesting they didn't expect trouble.

Dominic's mind raced. A direct confrontation would be risky, but he spotted a loose plank on the walkway above. If they could create a distraction...

"Enzo," Dominic whispered, pointing upward. "Climb up there. When I give the signal, drop that plank. It'll startle them long enough for me to grab the bag."

Enzo nodded and disappeared into the shadows, moving with surprising agility for someone with his bold personality.

Dominic waited until the men were directly beneath the walkway. He signaled Enzo, who kicked the loose plank with a loud crash. The men spun around, their weapons drawn, but their attention was focused upward.

Seizing the moment, Dominic darted forward and snatched the duffel bag. By the time the men realized what had happened, Dominic was already sprinting toward the exit.

"Stop him!" one of the men shouted, firing a shot that ricocheted off a metal beam.

Enzo leaped down from the walkway, landing with a thud in front of the guards. He grinned as he swung a length of pipe, forcing the men to retreat.

"Go, Dom!" Enzo yelled. "I'll catch up!"

Dominic didn't hesitate. He bolted out of the warehouse and into the night, the weight of the bag heavy in his hands. Moments later, Enzo caught up, his face flushed with exhilaration.

"Easy," Enzo said, clapping Dominic on the back. "You're a natural."

When Dominic and Enzo returned to the café, Franco was waiting for them in the back room. He looked up from his cigar, his sharp eyes scanning the boys.

"Well?" Franco asked.

Dominic dropped the duffel bag onto the table, the heavy thud echoing in the room. Franco opened it, inspecting the stacks of cash inside.

"Not bad," Franco said, his tone approving. "But what about the message?"

Dominic hesitated. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone, but Franco's expectation was clear.

Enzo stepped in, his grin never wavering. "We took care of it. They won't forget us."

Franco nodded, satisfied. "Good. Loyalty isn't just about what you say, Hawk. It's about what you're willing to do."

Dominic nodded, though his stomach churned. He had passed the test, but the cost felt heavier than the bag of cash they'd stolen.

At home, Dominic's late-night escapades didn't go unnoticed. His younger sister, Clara, was growing increasingly aware of his absences and the changes in his behavior.

Clara, now eight often sat by the window, her small face pressed against the glass as she waited for her brother to return. She missed the way things used to be, when Dominic was always around to play with her or help her with her homework.

One evening, as Dominic slipped into the house after another job, Clara confronted him.

"Where were you?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Working," Dominic replied, avoiding her gaze.

"Mama says you're doing bad things," Clara said, her eyes filling with tears.

Dominic knelt down, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Clara, listen to me. I'm doing this to help us. To keep us safe."

"But it's wrong," Clara whispered.

Dominic forced a smile. "Sometimes we have to do hard things to protect the people we love."

Clara didn't look convinced, but she didn't press further. Instead, she hugged Dominic tightly, as if afraid he might disappear altogether.

Internal Conflict

As Dominic lay in bed that night, Clara's words echoed in his mind. He told himself that he was doing the right thing, that his actions were necessary to keep his family afloat. But deep down, he couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him.

That night, as Dominic lay in bed, he thought about his family, his choices, and the path he was on. He knew he couldn't turn back, but the weight of his decisions felt heavier than ever.

For the first time, he wondered if he could truly balance the two halves of his life—the brother who protected his family and the rising figure in Palermo's underworld.

As sleep finally claimed him, one thought lingered in his mind: What kind of man am I becoming?