IntroductionA Chapter by Jade Renee BaconMeet Diana Caparotti, the daughter of a notorious mob leader named Carlo Caparotti and the target of one of the biggest scandals in Chicago history.My name is Diana Caparotti. I grew up in Chicago, Illinois on the east side, facing the harbour, in a two story house with my father, Carlo, and my mother, Rita. I was an only child and grew up with everything I wanted. I would ask and it would be given to me, without hesitation. You could say my family had money, which we did, but what we really had was power.
I lived a mostly normal life, except for the fact that my father owned the city. Yes, I was the daughter of the ring leader of what the police had come to call "the mob". Which, was a silly name is you asked me. We weren't exactly a group of people that carried around torches and pitchforks, chasing after people we thought were monsters. No, people came to us for help, or to fuel addictions, money, and sometimes we would get rid of pests (like your girl's extra mister).
We were people that would take care of you like you were a member of the family... for the right price.
I spent most of my life in that two story house, staring out at the harbour of Lake Michigan. I was usually confined to the house, unless we were attending a party or my father would permit me to visit friends, which he was wary of because he worried one of his "competitors" would snatch me up and he'd never see me again. Which was his fear, not mine. If I was to be kidnapped, it'd have been more adventure than sitting in my room all day. Which I was definitely up for, considering I was sick of those four walls, but the rest of the house wasn't any better.
We had a large yard, cut off from our neighbors by large iron rods my father called a fence. Our front year was just the same, but a bit more open up towards the road, where we could see who was pulling in. We had a large garage that held several cars. There was a walkway from the garage to the house made out of stone and upon walking towards the house you would see the large windows, but with curtains always pulled or shutters closed. The front door was made of oak and had a shiny knocker on it with a lion's head set in the stance of a roar. Overall the house was made of tan bricks and a gray and white mixed shingled roof. It had black accents and had pointed, castle like tops over separate rooms. We had a tall chimney from the fire place in my father's den and another chimney from the fire place in the parlour for entertaining. My favorite room of all though had to be our dining hall. It was the largest room in the house and could fit a couple hundred people comfortably for our weekly parties. I loved the space in there and sometimes I would sit in there alone and clear my head, just to escape my room.
I had a room that faced the backyard and tall green shrubs. My father hoped it would keep boys from trying to sneak in, but I never had a problem sneaking them over the fence and up the trellis. They'd crawl in through my window and my father (nor his guards) were any the wiser.
I was pretty rebellious against my father, considering he was barely ever around and my mother was usually drinking cocktails and playing cards with her girlfriends. I never saw either of them very much, I suppose. I liked it that way though. I could do what I wanted and the only person I had to answer to was myself, and my "bodyguard", Reggie. Reggie really had no say on what I did and he rarely ever told my father anything unless he was worried about me; like the time I tried cocaine with Maria (my best friend) down at the local club. My father actually came out of his office to yell at me for that one, rather than having Reggie relay his "disappointment" to me like usual.
So, I was independent to a point, but I'd be damed if I would let my father rule me past the age of eighteen. But here I was, at the age of seventeen, trapped in that house, desperate to get out. My only escape from that house and that existence, was Antonio. Antonio Fratto. The son of my father's right hand man, Emanuel Fratto. © 2013 Jade Renee BaconAuthor's Note
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