Francesco

I looked up at the towering Gothic cathedral, hiding amongst the other taller modern buildings in the city. It looked ancient and so out of place, like it didn’t belong here—just like me.

What business did the devil have with the church, after all? But believe it or not, this used to be my family’s abode. I never understood the pact the mafia had with the church.

It was like the church was a faction of the mafia cloaked in crosses and the statue of the Virgin Mary. Or maybe it was more intertwined than I liked to see it. After all, what was the church without the devil?...