🍋🍊━━━in the morning, the Portofino balconies are crowded by smoke. A gentle waft of the quiet consequences of a long night out. It's a Sunday. The local church is brimming with prayer, a melody of peace carried in the Italian Riviera. The most darling of fresh blooms line the morning market, inviting mothers to pick up a beaming decoration for their home. The waves are crashing against the beaches and the boats are out early, catching fish before the local yachts owned by insignificant millionaires create a ruckus, dispersing good game. Onofrio is settled on the patio of a villa, one of four fortresses of the Portofino excellent made to serve the local Capo. The Giovino Family is largely scattered all over the globe at this time. The eldest brother, Antonio, is currently in Athens, celebrating his 39th birthday. The twins, Carmela and Carmelo, are in China, carrying out the business of vintage film and participating in auctions that will solidify Giovino's place between the highest bidders. The rest, ahh, he may have lost track. The Capo is in America again, which somewhat concerns the consigliere who is instructed to carry out the rest of his ploys at home base. Not for long, of course, as the rest of Italy opens up its maw to spit out a new problem. In reality, the order to travel abroad is born out of this very idea: a little problem hails from up North. A man in Abu Dhabi picks up the phone, an Emirati Prince by the name of Hakeem Al-Noor, and a close friend, delivers the following message:
...ah, yes, my friend. Recall out conversation from a month ago. I was traveling to Japan and thought of you when I exchanged a certain package for my own endeavors. You should come to the next Game, by the way, it will be fun. I am still thinking of a theme if you'd like to contribute! Haha-Where was I? Listen, a friend of mine, well, he's a special agent for the UN. He's got some connections, underground ones. You will never believe what these Humanitarians are up to. He gave me a card with a number. You need an assassin, yes? Good, do you have a notepad? Alright, here you go it's-
Waiting for the phone to ring, Onofrio reclines in his seat, overlooking the azure waves of the calm waters splitting the riviera's horizon. This is not his home. Not really. In Portugal, the ocean is more beautiful. It crashes against the colorful cliffs, splashing children and their worried mothers. They dance until the moonlight grazes their faces. And there, trapped between mosaics of unyielding history, they sing about each other's memories. The phone suddenly halts and in a brief silence, Onofrio sits up in his seat.
"Lucien?" He waits for a confirmation, darting his eyes across the edge of the balcony. Upon confirmation, the mafioso's lips split into a beaming grin as if he stands before the assassin himself. When he stands from his chair, Onofrio Tosto is left sitting there, but a memory. In substitution, Gallows marching across the balcony, gesturing as he speaks. "Buongiorno, Signore, it is so good to catch you on this free minute." The consigliere spins on his heels, canting his head toward the phone he holds against his left ear. "My name is Onofrio Giovino, a friend of mine has spoken so fondly of you, I had to call immediately after our conversation. No kidding," he laughs, draping his arm over the edge. The breeze toys with his curls and the consigliere tilts his head back to enjoy the cascading kiss of the morning sun. Finally, he sheds the introductory necessity.
"I'd like to employ your services. A pretty long job, six months. Details are best discussed in person. I am currently in Europe, is there a mutual location we can agree upon that is convenient and satisfactory? I have means of flying you out or meeting you half way. Name the amenities, please, my treat, I insist." Despite his piercing gaze against the grape vines overtaking the villa's old walls, Gallows is smiling as he waits for the answer on the other line.
