Chapter VII: The Ball Part 2

               Standing by the bouncers, sipping what looked like some sort of cocktail, was none other than Frank Moreno. He wasn't in his regular tropical tourist look—he looked sharp as ever, just like any other gentlemen inside the party.  He glanced over each person that passed. The bouncers were doing their jobs, checking the invitations, frisking the guests. Some were a bit too happy copping a feel as their sleazy hands wandered over silken feminine skin.

                To entertain himself, Frank played a little game inside his mind. Every time a dame walked by, he’d rate her beauty. One being the lowest and ten being the ultimate babe.  Flocks of women dressed in their finest clothes—some were alone, others were with dates. Most of them had their faces covered with powder, their lips red like strawberries and perfume that could make someone’s head spin. One by one, Frank graded them. Five, five, a three, a gorgeous eight, a hot nine, some sixes and a few three’s that had faces only their mothers could love and no amount of make-up can cover.  A big-breasted blondie walked in, Frank couldn’t help but stare—so did the guards.

                Right after that blonde dame passed the sleazy fellows, Frank heard something.

                “I’m sorry sir, you can’t enter the party without an invitation.”

                Frank turned to the commotion to see one bouncer talking to a young couple and not letting them pass.  He recognized them immediately.

                “Ease up, guy. They’re V.I.P’s,” Frank told the bouncer. He then turned to his old friend and his new fiancé.  “Matty, Marian, Glad you could make it!” Frank then took a good look at Marian, who was blooming like a rose.  Her pinkish-white skin, slightly red cheeks, bangs that fell to one side of her face and those eyes. Marian was a Chinita, her brown eyes were much like her Chinese mother.  But most of all, her smile is what captivated Frank—it was the smile of a happy woman. Someone who had reached cloud nine. Matthew was all she needed in the world, and it seemed their love was stronger than ever. “Now that’s a fuckin’ ten.”

Marian had no idea what Frank meant. Matt shared a look with Frank, Frank had a look on his face telling Matt how much of a lucky bastard he was.

                They entered the party and took in the scenery. It had been a while since they saw something grand. Leave it to Alphonse Santino to have such a classy feast.

               

“By the way, you guys are late. This was my fifth glass!” Frank humorously complained to the couple while waving around his empty margarita glass as they walked.

               

“Traffic was awful, Frank. You wouldn’t believe it.” Matt answered.

               

“It’s Manila, genius! Traffic is always awful!” Frank laughed. “You should’ve just left earlier. If I’m not mistaken, it takes like, an hour and a half to drive from Cavite to Manila, right?”

               

“We would’ve arrived earlier if somebody hadn’t spent three hours choosing what to wear,” said Matt. Marian then glared at him, he raised his shoulders. “What?”

               

“Well, if somebody told me earlier that he’ll be coming home and I’ll be attending his father’s party tonight, I would’ve had enough time to pick a cute dress!” Marian retorted.

               

Frank laughed again. “Touché.”

               

Fine, you win, I’m sorry.” Matt rolled his eyes and everyone had a good laugh.

               

Soon, they were seated. A bunch of round tables covered and white cloth and decorated with all sorts of flowers and little candles were scattered, surrounding the stage but leaving an empty space in front for people who would like to dance. The trio was seated closest to the stage, they could feel the bass pumping with the beats of their hearts.

               

“I’m going to look for you father. You guys stay put, enjoy the evenin’ alright?” Frank told the couple, patted his buddy on the shoulder and went off.

               

The band played a couple of songs and the two listened. Marian’s fingers crept on the table, slowly headed for Matt’s hand that was resting near a wine glass. Soon, they held hands. Matt was busy listening to the band while Marian looked at her fingers, seemingly distraught.

               

“Hey babe,” she said. “When are you going to buy me a ring?”

               

Matt smiled at her, “What? You proposed to me, shouldn’t you buy me a ring?” he then laughed.

               

Marian just flashed him the “you gotta be freakin’ kidding me” look and turned Matt’s laugh into a nervous whimper.

               

“I’m just kidding, babe. I’ll get you that ring. That way, you can show all your friends you’re engaged.”

               

The look on her face didn’t change. Matthew was a smooth man, able to reason and talk his way out of trouble—Marian was the only exception to that skill.

               

“I was just kidding, you dummy! You really think I need to tell the whole world I’m getting married? I’m not that shallow.” Marian let out an angry sigh. Matthew was stumped.

               

Suddenly, the band played their own rendition of “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman” by Bryan Adams. The couple immediately looked at each other. Maybe it was a matter of fate, or just mere coincidence that their song played—the very first song they danced to more than five years ago.

               

Frustrated, Marian grabbed Matthew by the sleeves of his suit and dashed towards the dance floor.

               

“Come on, you big idiot, let’s dance.” she said.

They entered the dance floor, the lights dimmed as if on cue, and they slow-danced to the song. Marian held her lover’s hand as his other hand barely sat on her waist. They were going back and forth, holding each other close.

“You’re an Idiot, you know that?” she whispered, just enough so Matt could hear him.

                “I can’t help it, babe,” he replied in the same frequency. “My brain goes stupid when I’m with you.”

                Marian chuckled, even though it was just under her breath. That smile on her face made Matt smile too. “Right. You really are stupid.” Marian kept quiet for a while as the danced to the chorus. It was her favorite part. After that, she spoke. “I can’t believe I’m engaged to Matthew Santino.” she said with a smile.

                “I can’t believe I’m engaged,” Matthew chuckled. “I didn’t think I deserve someone like you.”

                “How come, sweetie?”

               

                “I… I’m not a good person. In fact, I’m one of the worst,” Matt sighed. Real emotions coursed through his voice. “You know what I was before. You know what I had done. They called me cold-blooded, a killing machine, death incarnate, heartless… Sure, I regret that now but… what will happen if I still went down that road? Where would I be? Will I have you? Will I still be alive? It’s just… I-I don’t know.  I don’t want to be that Matthew Santino anymore.”

               

                Marian placed her head on her lover’s chest. “Well, they’re wrong. I could hear your heart beating right here,” She then flashed him the sweetest of smiles. “I remember the first time I met you. You were so shy you kept stuttering every time we talk. Then you showed me a side of you I’d never dreamt of—such a sweet and caring side. I fell for the sweet side of Matthew Santino, and stayed for the rest. I don’t really care about your past, I only care about the future—our future.”

                She couldn’t see it, but Matt’s cheeks were flushed. “You really mean that?”

                “Idiot, why did you think I waited five years for?” she laughed. They both did.

                “I love you so much, Marian Garcia,” His eyes were deep and affectionate as he said those words.

                “I know, I’m adorable.” Marian laughed. Matthew sighed for she ruined the sweet moment. Yet, he was glad. That kind of Attitude and outlook in life is the reason Matthew loved her. It was the reason why he wanted to legitimate. It’s what kept him sane despite the bloodshed. Still, after that hearty laugh, Marian replied.  I love you too, Matt. Whether it’s Santino or Cross, you’ll always be my sweet Matty.”

                They danced for the remainder of the song. That last riff, the disappearance of the music and the switch to a new song snapped them back to reality. That moment of peace they had was over, Frank was behind them already.

               

                “Hey lovebirds,” Frank said as tapped Matt’s shoulders. “The Don will see you now, Matt.”

                “Just me?” Matt asked, confused. “I thought he’d see us both?”

                “Change of plans, buddy. The boss wants to see you alone, have some father and son moment or some crap.” Frank explained.

                Matt sighed and looked at his dame. She had a reassuring smile.

                “Don’t worry, babe. It’s okay,” she told him. “I’ll just eat while you’re gone. I’m starving!”

                “Alright,” Matt pecked Marian at the forehead. “I’ll be back in sec,” Matt turned to Frank. “Come on, lead the way.”

                Frank was leading Matt towards unfamiliar territory but filled with familiar faces. That peaceful encounter was truly over. As Matt passed familiar faces, visions from his past came back like a bad nightmare.

                One-eyed Sam, in barong tagalog, playing a tune with his guitar saw Matt and Frank pass by. He was a man in his early forties, salt-and-pepper hair and wrinkly forehead. The reason they call him one-eyed was he always wore an eye-patch on his left eye. He lost its vision during the first mob war the Santino family was involved in.

                “Well if ain’t mister death himself,” he said. One-eyed Sam nodded out of respect and the two kept walking straight.

                The memories of One-eyed Sam weren’t too pleasant. He is a known strangler, a musical artist with a bad temper. Once in his gig, a customer boo’d from the crowd. He stopped playing his guitar, went straight for the guy and beat him to death with his Les Paul. He was a soldier just like Matthew, albeit a more destructive one since he adored violence. His country songs were always riddled with hidden meanings, secret executions he called art. A true psychopath.

                Next, they passed the kitchen.  He only caught a glimpse of the man wearing a chef’s attire. It looked like he was having some sort of argument between his subordinates. Still, he knew who it was. Ricardo Macapagal, also known as the butcher. Ricardo owns a butcher shop near Alphonse’s villa and their main supplier of meat.

That was just a front act. Ricardo got his name “the butcher” not because of his day job, it’s because of what he does at night—or rather, under the Santino employment. Ricardo is the resident garbage-man and torturer. If the Santino family needs a body hidden and never to be seen again, Rodrigo is the man.  He might be the only guy who had seen more blood and guts than Matt. Rodrigo had a strange relationship with dead flesh-- either disposing of it or making it dead. He’s also a big sadist. The memory of Rodrigo cutting of a guy’s arm while having a crooked smile on his face flashed on Matt’s mind. Make no mistake though, he’s good cook too.

                Matt and Frank entered the elevator and Frank pushed the button that headed for the highest floor.  But before the elevator door closed, a woman in red entered. Her hair was dyed red and her skin white. Matt’s eyes widened as he recognized the dame in red. It was all a blast from the horrible past. She was known as Veronica—the Black Widow. A master of Seduction, she uses her feminine wiles to lure her prey and go in for the kill. Not only that, she’s a hired assassin more often under the Santino payroll. Matt never had the unfortunate pleasure of working with her since she always tend to work alone. But his experience with her wasn’t that pleasant either. Five years ago, a few days before Matt’s departure, the Black Widow snuck inside his room to make a move on him. The Black widow was attracted to him, told him they were alike—killers in cold blood and she wanted him because of his power. He declined and demanded her to leave the room. But before she did, she uttered words that Matt hadn’t forgotten yet.

               

                With her soft voice, she spoke “Careful, sweetheart. I remember your face.” with a succusbus-like smile and left.

                               

                Veronica seemed to be pre-occupied with thoughts—that or she doesn’t recognize Matt anymore.  Three floors passed and the Black Widow had reached her floor and left. That left Matt and Frank alone.

                Of all these people from the past, no one was more devious than the man he was about to meet.

                Top floor reached, the door opened.

                “Go on ahead. He’s waiting for you at his suite. Second room to the right.” Frank told Matt.

                “You’re not coming?”

                “Like I said, Father and son crap.”

               

                Matt stepped out of the elevator, leaving a waving Frank behind who bid him good luck. The hallway gave off an old and regal feel.  The light shone orange and the windows were decorated with brown mahogany. When he reached the room, room 706, Matt knocked on the heavy wooden door. From the other side, he heard his father’s voice.

                “Come in, it’s open!”

                The door creaked open as Matt peered in the room. It was the first time he saw his father in five years. Alphonse was facing the window, overlooking the streets below where the guests of his after-party kept pouring in.  The same orange glow shone inside the room, it came from the chandeliers.  From the stereo, an old jazz tune played. It was a romantic song Matt didn’t know but heard a lot during his stay at Alphonse’s house when he was still a kid.

                “How was the party?” Alphonse asked, not turning around.

               

                “Pretty nice, pop,” Matt replied. “The band was pretty good too.”

                Alphonse chuckled. “Really? Your brother seems to think otherwise.”

                “We have the same taste in music, pop. His is a little bit… well, different.”

                “Nothing wrong with being a little bit different, son,” Alphonse turned around, facing his son. With open arms he walked towards Matt. “Matty, look at you! Look how you’ve grown!” He gave the prodigal son a warm and tender embrace. “You look good. A real man now!”

                “Thanks pop,” a shy smile imprinted on Matt’s face as he responded to his father’s compliment.

                “So… how’s life?”

                With a content smile, Matt responded eagerly. “Life’s pretty good, pop. Never thought I could be as happy as I am right now.”

                “Good, that’s good.” Alphonse paused for a while, as if contemplating on something. “Ah! You want a drink? Wait here.”

                Alphonse rushed to the mini-fridge by the foot of his bed. He grabbed a chilled wine bottle and poured it into two glasses. One for Matt and one for the old man. Before Matt could say he was good, Alphonse was already shoving the wine glass at his son’s hand. They drank.

                “So, when did you come home?” Alphonse suddenly asked.

                This was the part of the conversation Matthew dreaded. A conversation full of lies with his father.

               

                “Yesterday morning.” Matt answered.

               

                It felt weird answering his father’s question. Why ask something he already knew? Of course he already asked Frank the basic details. Why ask Matt again? Doesn’t he trust his son?

                “Oh, really?” Alphonse seemed surprised. “Where did you go after that? Why not straight home? To see your father and brother?”

                “I uh, I had some business to attend to.” Matt awkwardly replied.

                “Something or someone?” pried his father.”

                “Jesus Christ pop, could we stop these games?” Matt finally had enough. “Of course you know these things. You have eyes and ears everywhere!  Don’t you trust me or something?”

                Alphonse sighed. “Sorry, Matthew I just… just a force of habit” It seemed like Alphonse was truly apologetic.

                “It’s okay, pop.  I’m just tired of the lies and deceit.” Matt sighed.

                “I’m real sorry, son,” Alphonse placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder.  “So… why did you want to see your old man?”

                “First of all, how are ya, pop? I’ve been hearing things. Bad things about your health. That’s one of the main reasons I’ve decided to go back home.”

                “I’m an old man, Matty. I have lived this life the best that I could,” Alphonse backed away and sat by the edge of the king-sized bed. “ In fact, I’m already in borrowed time. I don’t want to cause alarm but yes, I’m sick. There’s nothing to do anymore. I just want to leave something behind for you and your brother. Something that will overshadow all those years that I’ve mistreated you. Make up for lost time, you know?”

                “Pop, we know a lot of doctors outside-“ Matthew tried to

               

                “No son, there’s no point in trying,” Despite his pessimistic words, Alphonse’s expression was quite content. “You know death, right? You’ve dealt with more than a few. There’s no point in denying the inevitable. “

                “How long have you got, pop?”

                “Long enough.”

                “Yeah, but how many years.”

                “Enough.”

                “I mean how-“

               

                “How’s Marian?”

                It was obvious that Alphonse was dodging the question. Somehow, Matt couldn’t blame him. And somewhere deep inside, he doesn’t want to know either.

                “S-she’s fine, pop. In fact, she part of the reason why I came here to talk to you.”

                “The other great reason, eh?” Alphonse chuckled.  “So… what about her?”

                “We’re getting married pop, and I want your blessing.”

                Alphonse was taken aback. He had given up on this idea in a long time—to be a grandfather, his sons having a family and being happy. This was a scenario that ran through his mind a hundred times. Matt or even Jack, bringing home a beautiful lady and introducing them to him.

                “You okay pop? You want some water or something?” Matt asked his father who hasn’t realized he had been quiet for some time now.

                “I’m- I’m great! This is great news! When’s the wedding?” an overjoyed Alphonse asked.

                “We haven’t planned it out yet— but maybe in few months or so.”

                “You know what, boy? Don’t worry about a damn thing. I’ll take care of the wedding. Just tell me what you like, it’s yours,” Alphonse shook his son’s hand. “Congratulations, my boy. You may not know it yet but this is one of the greatest achievements you will ever obtain!”

                “Believe me pop, I know.”

               

                “Have you given her a ring yet?”

                “Funny thing, we were just talking about that earlier. I haven’t given her one yet.” Matthew scratched his head out of embarrassment

                “I have just the thing!”

                The Don then proceeded to take off two rings that were on his fingers. On his left hand was a gold ring adorned with an enormous finely-cut ruby. Around the huge chunk of rock were smaller jewels that glistened with the light. On his right hand, he took off another ring—it looked similar with the ruby ring, the only difference is the stone in this ring was sapphire blue.

                “Let me tell you a story, son, this happened when me and my wife were about to get married,” Alphonse began. “On the night I asked her to marry me, I gave her this sapphire ring to her since she loved the color blue. At first she was seemed happy then suddenly, she looked at me. Her eyes stared down my hand and she grabbed it and asked “Where’s your ring?” I told her I didn’t have one since it’s only customary to have the future bride wear an engagement ring and the groom doesn’t need it. She frowned at me and said no. First, I was all confused and heart-broken. I was just rejected by the love of my life. Then, she told me something. She said “Al, dear, why am I only the one wearing a ring? The ring only tells people that I’m engaged to you, you should wear a ring too to show you’re engaged to me. Let’s tell the world that you’re mine, and I’m yours!” With her angel-like voice, it couldn’t have been clearer. The next day, I bought myself this ruby ring and showed it to her. She told me it was perfect, and finally agreed to my proposal.” Tears were already running down Alphonse’s eyes. “If I could only go back in time, relive everything again. When she passed, I kept both rings to show that she still owns my heart. No other woman would. But that’s the past now—it’s time these rings left me and tell a different story. Hopefully, something good. I want you to have it.”

                “Pop… I don’t know what to say… thank you.” Matt was touched with his father’s story. There was something at the back of his mind screaming that this could all be a lie the most sinister Don he had known concocted to get his sympathy but somehow, he managed to block it all out. When Matt took the rings from his father’s open hands, Alphonse gave his son another tender embrace.

                “I’m so sorry, Matthew… for everything.” He whispered at his hear.

                “It’s okay pop, really.” the son reassured his father by tapping him on the shoulder.

                “Well, I need a minute alone. You go on ahead and go back down. Enjoy the rest of the party, and give one ring to Marian. I’ll be with you shortly.” Alphonse said. He then turned around to face the windows again, just like when Matt first entered the room. And Matt, with eager news for her fiancé, started heading downstairs.

                This love story will have a goddamn happy ending, even if it kills me. Matthew thought as he held the rings inside his clenched hand.

                There was something Matthew forgot—something sinister. Those rings aren’t just some love story props. They were rings of a Don.

                TO BE CONTINUED