Chapter 121: Meeting His Cousin

All thanks to Clara, the main funeral service was over before Marcel could arrive. Even when he reached the burial scene, the coffin was already being lowered into the ground and he had to push his way to the front. 

Unlike the other families of the victims, this one was quite aware of her husband's activities and that was why the burial was graced by mostly members of the gang with a few family members. Everyone was dressed in black as he was and just when Marcel was close to standing in front, one of the men resisted him crossing over. 

"What the hell?" The man said and turned to glare at who had tried passing through him only to get the shock of his life. 

"B-boss," He stammered, having recognized Marcel. 

Marcel didn't know the man and guessed he was from a lower-ranking member of the gang. He was not obliged to know every member of his gang, especially those at the bottom of the structure, it was the captain's responsibility except that such a person was recommended. He could see the fear in the man's eyes when he finally recognized him. 

"B-boss," The man choked. 

Marcel didn't say anything, he simply pulled him to the side and passed through. It was not customary for him to be at the graveside however, Marcel needed to pay his last respect to his Caporegime who died as a result of his incompetence. 

He was now standing right beside the victim's family who had already begun to scatter soil onto the coffee in the ground while the choir sang.

It was a very beautiful yet sad song that tugged at the heartstrings of people at the scene. They sang about meeting at a better place called heaven but Marcel smiled inwardly, he was sure people like them would rot in hell. 

Why would God accept their souls when they've done so many sins like taking a life, neither were they ready to change? Just like Marcel who was born into the Mafia, other members would never leave because they have no clue what to do or go. 

The Mafia is the only thing Marcel has ever known since he was born. His Dreams? He doesn't have a thing like that. Having his own dreams was a privilege he would never be able to acquire and having hope he would find that was a slow poison that would do nothing but lead to his death. 

Just like his father and fathers before him, Marcel's responsibility would be to grow the Luciano mob and he was sure as hell his seed would continue the task from where he stopped until their influence and activities were thoroughly abolished - which he highly doubted. Darkness can only be subdued but can never be erased. Even if he's convicted and imprisoned, the next generation would carry on from where he stopped. 

Aside from that, even if Marcel wanted out of the Mafia, he couldn't since he was buried waist-deep in their activities. He was his father's heir and current leader of the Luciano clan, and he knew how much sacrifice his father had made to put him there even though he ascended earlier. 

Also, you might leave the Mafia, but the Mafia would never leave you. If his father - and other family members - aka his other cousins - doesn't kill him for betraying the family (and his cousins would do that solely to make sure he has no chance of reclaiming his position) Marcel was sure his rival gangs would do the job. 

He has so many enemies that he can't give up now unless he wants a death sentence. In one word, there was no backing out of the Luciano family and he could only move forward. 

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As expected, his father attended the burial and was standing directly across from him. They stared at each other for a brief second and Marcel could tell the displeasure on his face; he was not happy with all of this. 

If he was younger, Marcel was sure he would receive a good beating for failing to prevent this kind of disaster from happening. As if he had any control over death, he snorted. 

In no time the burial was over and the funeral reception was held at the victim's home, right in their garden to accommodate the many guests that attended. The late captain made a lot of associates hence there were many people in attendance. 

Even though it was a funeral reception, some of the guests used that opportunity to socialize and Marcel heard fellow gang members already making bets on suitable replacements. 

But Marcel didn't join them and went ahead to the living room where the wife and her children were receiving guests one after the other while other family relations kept the guests entertained outside, serving food and drinks. 

"I'm sorry for your loss," Marcel was quick to offer his condolences to the older woman. 

The woman looked him over and recognized him right away. She bowed her head humbly, "I'm more thankful you attended his funeral when he's just an ordinary Captain," She said, having full knowledge of her husband's line of work. 

"He contributed immensely to our family and I would guarantee his life would not be in vain," Marcel promised to catch the killer. 

"No, we all knew the risks when he decided to work for your family, so just let it be. Also, he was not that righteous either," She knew about her husband's affairs and he often used his job as an excuse for it. Perhaps he deserved what came his way and she was free to live a happier life without his tyranny. 

Marcel was just about to say something when his phone beeped with a massage. He would have ignored it but knowing it could be something important - with Elijah still on the loose, who knows what he would do next - Marcel read it immediately. And regretted it. 

Clara was here. 

That he was surprised was an understatement, Marcel was completely dumbfounded. Judging from Clara's pompous personality, he had predicted that she would return home from anger after he abandoned and humiliated her on the highway but that seems not to be the case. What was she doing here? What does she have in mind? Marcel was sure it couldn't be anything good. 

Marcel had to excuse himself and went back outside where he began to search for Clara in the crowd. He couldn't find her and was about to give up, thinking it was a prank only to see her, discussing heartily with his other cousin. 

Damn it.

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