An Arranged Marriage To The Mafia...?

Black.
The colour of darkness, a colour that never emitted reflected light but absorbed it wholely from the visual spectrum.
In Japan it was referred to as a symbol of nobility and age.
In Spain a symbol of power.
In Arabia the colour of dynasty.

In the mafia; it was the colour of death. Of heartache and sorrow, of loss and farewells. It was the colour that drowned the church the day of James Emanuel Antonio Radev's funeral.

An opaque haze roamed across the midday skies, the heavy clouds rolling leisurely over the littered skies all but ready to jeopardise the day and only cause more misery. Mistified water eased its way from the heavens and fell softly over the heavy limestone steps of the towering church, bodies rustled underneath deep charcoal umberllas and from my sober standing place by the door I watched as sunken, sad eyes sympathised and empathised with those who were closest to our dearly departed.

Silence enveloped the grieving crowds as the last of the sombre guests found their seats along hard wooden pews and hung their heads in pure quiet as we, James' closest walked slowly, teary and in pure disbelief down the small centre aisle of the church, our black clad bodies shuffling into our front row reservations.

Oxygen burned inside my lungs with a sharp unbelievable pain the very second I was situated comfortably enough in my reserved seat and I had lifted my gaze momentarily from my folded hands. Rich, deep mahogony with perfect silver trimmings and a flourish of vibrantly clean white flowers upon a stern wooden platform. James' wooden coffin stood tall before the growing pews and the mere sight had me on the brink of errupting in hysterics.

Ethan's much larger hand reached across my lap, his fingers entwined with mine and lightly squeezed the flesh comfortingly as a lone tear cascaded down my pampered cheek.

"Don't." My voice was barely above a whisper as I pryed my hand from his grasp. Every movement, every word, everything Ethan had done since he stumbled through our bedroom door had my head screaming with his antics of the night before; the media had caught him out on his dirtiest little secret at it made my skin crawl in disgust. He was swooning the one girl he should despise the most in the entire world, he was fraternising with the enemy only days after they murdered his brother.

"Amelia." I could hear the sullen tone in his voice and could feel my heart beating with a sudden desire to throw myself into the safety of his warming embrace but the nagging voice in the back of head moved quickly back to the images across the double page story of the newspapers. "It isn't what you think. Please-"

"Not here Ethan." I kept my gaze on his swollen red eyes and only dragged the focus away at the aging voice of the parish priest at the podeum.

"It is a sad day when a mother and father must burry their child. It is a day that any parent should never have to witness and in the case of James Emanuel Antonio Radev it is a pain and heart ache his family should never feel. But it is with heavy hearts and an abundance of sorrow that today we say farewell to a friend, a brother and to a son who lived so shortly and graced our lives in such a small, sweet term. But we must not be over come with the pain of loss and the ache of tragedy such as this, instead we must turn to embrace the life James lived and the joy he brought to our daily lives...."

I felt the involuntary instincts sniffling back a rash sob in the back of my throat and turned a fraction of an inch in my rightful seat towards the left and waited for the second his hand would wrapped warmly around mine to tell me it was alright. But the fluid motion of his unforgettable affection and care never occurred and it only made the pain in my chest swell as my vision flickered from the softly spoken voice of the priest to the empty seat by my left side. This was the seat reserved entirely for James, only James' smiling face wasn't found sitting silently and patiently listening to the surmon and his hand didn't wrap around my in reassurance. James Radev was gone.

"As a child my brother never let anyone beat him, he stood up for everything he cared about and all the things that he found important and there was nothing that meant more to him than his friends and family." Marcus Radev had taken to the podium, his tired eyes struggling to remain dry as he spoke openly of his younger brother. "James stopped at nothing to ensure the ones he loved the most were always with smiles on their faces, dropping everything to fix a problem no matter the prices and potential consequence and it was this love and generosity that has us gathered today....."

I exhaled slowly, savouring the sweet taste of pure oxygen as a hiccup rose from within. James' love was something that words could never describe, it was enough to make anybody feel utterly safe, secure and never alone in a world that continuously crumbled and fell. I alone had been the target of his genorosity enough times to understand Marcus' words in more depth that he was simply speaking. He had gone to undeniable lengths and even taken a bullet to ensure that I wasn't alone or upset and felt as happy and safe as could be.

"No words can explain the sheer heartache and devastation of loss, nothing can reverse the effects of the sudden departure of a beloved individual and no matter to what extent we go to, nothing will bring our fallen back from God's warmth and love." I bowed my head slightly as the priest shared his final words, his hidden message aimed at the vast majority of heavy weights seething with ideas of avengement in their wooden pews. "James was a character of a fine and gentle nature and he rests for eternity in the love and happiness he shared in daily life. His days were short lived and his demise was nothing short of tragic, but it is important to treasure the days he spent on our earth, to remember the charasmatic smiles and mischievious moments he left with us..."

Slowly a screen fell from high above the church's rafters and hung above the deep wooden coffin, its face flashing with the photographs of James' wicked smile, his heart-breaking charm vivid through the shine in his deep brown eyes. I watched heart broken as his face flickered, his life told through classic photos and moments nobody in the entire church would quickly forget. Moments that seemed to disappear all too quickly found the screen frozen with a larger-than life portrait of James, his eyes shimmering with absolute delight, his face calm, relaxed and smiling wider than ever before.

The priest stood, tall and silence for a moment, his eyes wandering over the damp cheeks of the mourning crowd, he watched with comforting glances as tears rolled and sobs errupted from the lips of hundreds of heart broken family and friends. His palms folded together in quiet prayer and the heads of the hundreds of devastated bowed in silence.

My pulse quickened, my eyes burning with the sting of fresh tears and my knees shook within my seemed stockings under the stress of my weight. Slowly my tall, black Jimmy Choo heel fell up the longing stairs, my black silk and lace dress shimmered over my skin and my fingers trembling with the nervousness of what I had to do. As if I would break it, the tips of my shaking fingers glided gently over the polished surface of James' coffin, my breath heavy and caught inbetween witheld sobs. I wavvered over the thought of the body inside, the pale of his skin and blue of his lips. For a moment I stayed entirely still before the mahogony, my voice gone with relentless agony. James was hidden under a layer of carefully placed white flowers, his body battered and bruised with the unforgiving art of our illict world. My mind buzzed with images of the last time I had seen him, smiling and wandering thorugh the kitchen doorway barely a week after he had been gunned down along the strip. Slowly I placed my fingers to the cherry gloss of my lips and shifted the weight of them back to the surface of his coffin with a tear stained whispered farewell.

The dull thud of my heart against my rib cage echoed as I watched Ethan, Marcus, Antonio, my father and the Radev's most trusted allies Vito Deangelo and Frank Constellar lifted the heavy wood from it's podeum before the crowd and was carried down the very centre of the great church, my body waltzing in a silent procession and as the coffin was carried out the remainign guests found their feet in quiet unspoken gratitude.

Outside the darker steps of the church were transformed to a heavy black with the cool wet of rain, light mist rolled and fell from the wide grey blanketed skies as slowly the inside of the church poured along the waiting steps. James' somber coffin was placed, gently, carefully and draped in the love and care of family inside the back of a black hearse while on lookers allowed tears to flow. I stood rigid as the chilling Nevada breeze blew across my face, through my hair pressing the smooth silk of my dress across my legs and drying the salty tears to my cheeks.

Ethan's steps fell before me, his expression soft and eyes filled with emotion. My gut knotted and tore empathy through my veins, standing on the step below me he looked fragile and helpless and it was at that very second I remembered that today was the day he said goodbye to his best friend, he farewelled family. Today Ethan radev burried his brother and all I had thought about was the betrayal he comitted the two days before. My conscience went out to him, my heart poured and shared his pain, but a new pain of his deceit and lies drilled through my blood and I wasn't prepared to push the public humiliation aside. Distance flashes of white lights caught my attention and it was only now I saw the lines of media personelle, cameras, microphones and reporters stood like scanvangers waiting for their million dollar glimpse at the first underworld funeral of the year.

A complacent sigh lifted from my lungs and I allowed Ethan's hand to ease with freedom into my own, his fingers wrapping securely around my small, now gloved hands as we slowly decended the wide steps and faced the world before us. No matter the mistakes and the heart ache I endured at the careless decisions of my fiance we were expected to keep appearance in the face of the public, we were engaged and no matter the tragedy, the scandal, the humiliation we were required to behave as if we were blissfully unaware of the real world.

Ethan's grasp released for a split second and he guided me slowly into the front passanger seat of his car before walking with a slow pace in his steps to the driver's seat and slowly pulled out of the church car park. his headlights were dim in the afternoon sun as we proceeded at a crawling pace along behind the black funeral arcade, tyres drifting to the green lush grass of a cemetery.

James Radev's dark wooden coffin was lowered before only his closest friends and family, his body forever comitted to the Nevada soil, his life lost and soul laid to rest in an abundance of eternity. James was the first victim of the unforgiving world of criminal mafia and he was our most beloved casualty, the moment soil breached across the surface of his caskett our side felt the fatal flaw of revenge burning on the backs of our tongues and it wasn't an aquired taste.