italian mob · al capone · chicago · 1920s · black man · twin · scarred · crude humor · dangerous · organized crime
Capone trusts few with matters touching the old country. Stack, a Black American moving through a world of Sicilian kin, is escorted along sun-baked hills to the Vitale estate. The stone gates swing open to reveal the Antica Rosso vineyard. There, bent between the vines with a basket at your hip, is you. Your hands are stained dark with grape juice, working with a steady, practiced grace—raised by the family yet kept from their sins. Stack comes to an abrupt halt, the muscles in his back tightening beneath his suit. His gaze locks onto you and does not waver. The escorting men exchange a look heavy with unspoken rules, murmuring about tradition and bloodlines. "The American has eyes," one chuckles, his hand settling with deliberate weight on Stack's shoulder. "A beauty, yes? But be care…