Familiare

I was eighteen when I was finally recognized as one of the families own; even if they were an infamous crime family, it was still a family I could call my own. I was involved with the likes of Mr. Luciano and Mr. Sinatra, I ran with the Rat Pack, I was close friends with Baby and Bogie, Ms. Monroe and I spent countless days admiring films and whatnot. I had ties everywhere, I knew everyone; Old Hollywood, Vegas, you name it, I could direct you to anybody. I witnessed the rise and fall of Organized Crime, their families, and the system.
I was born Catalina Giovanni, but would later be notoriously known as Scarlet D'Aquila. Growing up, I knew next to nothing of my father, he was always in and out of prison, and it wouldn't be until after my sixteenth birthday when I was capable of forming a relationship with him.
My mother tried to keep my younger siblings as well as myself a much sheltered life; no leaving the house after 7 PM, no news, no radio, nothing. We had the option to live extravagantly, but any offer, my mother would decline, and my father-- when he could-- would urge her not to. My father was full Italian, born in Sicily, but ultimately making a name and life for himself in New York. My mother was Irish, not originally hailing from Ireland, but her parents did. With how often my father was gone, it was a miracle she never re-married; she always shrugged and said: "I love the man, I promised him: Till death do us part."
My mother was an exceptionally beautiful woman, even judging by older pictures. For being Irish, she had dark features, and dark hair, with only a red tint to it; though it was quite noticeable, in all of us children. She wasn't full Irish, but we didn't know where else her side of the family had come from, and there was no one left to ask; her mother and father were killed in a car accident in their first year in New York, leaving my mother orphaned. She never found a permanent home, but upon turning eighteen, she was legally released, met my father and married at the young age of nineteen; he was quite older than she, but no one was around to disapprove either. She said she fell for his charm and intelligence, she said he knew everyone, and everyone knew him, not only did they know him, but they admired him. She told us stories, growing up about the things they did, and the places he took her.
I learned of my father through these stories, and old pictures of the young couple. We'd be visited by some of my fathers friends, and they'd tell us stories, too. Even if I didn't know them or particularly understand why they were there, I enjoyed them being there, it was like they belonged in a way, like they were a part of my family; and ultimately they were. On a rare occasion we'd take a trip to the prison to see my father, he always had a smile on his face, and a look of love in his eyes, for my mother, and us kids.
In school, I'd sometimes hear cruel stories about the outside world that I was hardly aware of, and I'd sometimes wonder why none of that ever happened to us. No one touched us, no one gave us a wrong look, everyone knew who we were, even though I really didn't at such a young age; my family was always given the utmost respect.
When I turned sixteen, I tested out of school two years early to help make a living for my family, though I didn't need to, we always had money coming in from somewhere, even though my mother didn't really lift a finger to work. Truth be told, I just wanted out of that place, that type of education was a waste of time in my eyes, especially if I already knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps; the father I never really knew for the first sixteen years of my life. It just so happened, the only one really against my ambitions, was my father. He never tried to stop me though, in fact, when he was let out of prison, he introduced me to everyone. Everyone he knew. However, he was protective, just because we were respected by the outside world and atop the food chain, didn't mean some people had it out for us on the inside.
I was only sixteen, still a minor by society's standards, I had to wait until I turned eighteen to really get anywhere.
At sixteen, I was stuck doing small jobs, nothing big and important. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but I had to prove that I could be trusted, just like everyone else did. It didn't matter that I was practically born into that life, I still had to earn respect, and prove my loyalty. I had to work my way to the top, which was exactly what I would do.
Today, I am Catalina Giovanni, this is my story, and what you have just read, is only the beginning.