Chapter Eleven
Mira slipped on her gown. She looked at her frizzy hair and felt tired from the sight of it. She showered and tried hard to forget the scene she witnessed. Catalina and Dominic? What had she seen? Mira flipped off the light switch and walked back into the room. Catalina stormed into the room and paced by the bed. Her face was streaked with tears.
“Please! Please don’t tell him. Please! He’ll kill Domi. Please!”
Stunned, Mira froze.
“I can explain. I can…” Catalina gripped her hair on both sides, pulling until her eyes stretched. “It’s not Domi’s fault. He didn’t want it. He never did, but I wouldn’t stop. I’ve loved him since I was two. I’ve always loved him. He’s a brother to Giovanni and Lorenzo. He was raised by them. They will see this as incest, but it isn’t. We aren’t blood related. He’s adopted. It’s not… and… oh my God. Oh my God Gio will find out!”
“Calm down.” Mira hurried to her. She drew her into an embrace. Catalina clung to her, crying into her shoulder. “I didn’t tell Domi you saw us. He is guilty enough. He’d be foolish and confess to my brother. They’d kill him. Please Mira.”
“Okay. I won’t say a word. Listen to me. It’s okay.” She pulled her face from her shoulder and cupped it in her hands. “It will be okay.”
Catalina nodded. Mira guided her to the bed and let her sit. “Are you in love with him?”
“Yes. And he loves me.”
“Then why not go to your brother and tell him?”
“I couldn’t! I can’t! I’m to be married.”
“Marry Dominic?”
Catalina frowned. “It doesn’t work that way. Giovanni is following my father’s orders. He always does what is expected and so do I. That’s how it works. He’s in danger constantly, Mira. The families, well they don’t respect him. He has to do things to keep his respect or it’s the end of us all. And if the families found out about me and Domi, and I backed out on my wedding then Giovanni will be shamed. The entire family would be. Don’t you understand? We can’t be together. Ever.”
“When did this start? When did you two begin this affair?”
Catalina looked away. Mira rubbed her brow. She didn’t know Giovanni long, but she knew one thing. Loyalty was a big thing with him. If she kept a secret like this there could be consequences. She had to know more.
“When he took me to Palermo for Aurora’s wedding. He was my chaperone when I went to meet Franco and his family. I was so upset after the first meeting. Franco is, well he isn’t pleasant on the eyes. Not like my Domi. He’s short, crude, he smells of dirt and cigarettes. He has a gap between his front teeth!” Catalina tapped her front tooth to emphasize the point. “Domi saw I was disappointed. He tried to cheer me up. I was only seventeen. That night he took me to dinner and though we have family in Palermo we aren’t…” She cast her shy gaze to Mira. “We aren’t welcome to stay. Only when Giovanni is there do they show respect. So Domi and I stayed in a hotel. And we talked, drank wine, played cards… it happened.”
“You have to stop the affair with him! If one of Giovanni’s men had seen you. Do you know how risky that is?”
Catalina didn’t look her way this time. She stared straight ahead.
“You have to end it. For good.”
“Will you keep my secret?”
Mira struggled with her answer. It wasn’t her business. She didn’t want to be involved. But she had seen it, and she had to decide what she’d do with that knowledge. “Yes.”
Catalina threw her arms around her neck. “Bless you! Thank you!” She released her. “You want to see my brother, don’t you? I’ll help you go to him.”
“No. He’s working, I won’t bother him.”
“No he isn’t. I spoke to Domi. He’s alone. And if he’s alone, he’s miserable. Something is wrong. Something is going on with the other families. Go to him.”
Mira felt it too. Catalina rose. She went over and found her satin robe. “Wear this. You have to be covered when you go out there. When you see his men tell them that Giovanni sent for you. Stand your ground with his men. Demand respect and look them in the eye when you speak. Prego.” She helped her into her robe. “They’ll let you in.”
“Maybe I should give him space tonight. If he wanted to see me, he’d have sent for me.”
Catalina shook her head fiercely. “He’s never brought any woman home. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You are changing him. He seems… happy. And trust me a happy Giovanni is what we all need. So go to him. Prego. And we will forget this whole matter with Domi, right? It’s over. That was us saying goodbye. We’re done.” Catalina grinned nodding through her lie. Mira knew she was being manipulated. But she relented. “Where is this villa again? How do I get there?”
“Let me show you a different way. To avoid Renaldo and Carmine. They are the worst. The other’s you can manage,” Catalina said. Mira quickly tied down her robe. It was about the length of her dress she wore today, barely touching her knees. She and Catalina crept out into the hall and down to the lower floor unseen. “There, take that path and it will bring you to his door.” Catalina kissed her on both cheeks. “Grazie, for listening and keeping my secret. We’re friends now. Best of friends. Si?”
“Catalina, I….”
“Grazie!” she waved and hurried off. Mira did as instructed and walked a path through a manmade garden that circled the pool. Soon she saw the cottage and realized the name given to it was due to the rust colored paint that covered its stone walls. Wild vines and ivy grew along the windowsills, wild red flowers blooming about. It looked unkempt compared to the rest of the estate. Still it had such an overwhelming masculine quality to it. There were three men smoking outside of it that didn’t seem happy to see her.
One of the guys glanced to the other confused by her arrival but the other just checked her out. Finally another English speaking man spoke. “Signora? Please return to your room.”
“Can you tell him I’m here? Please?” she asked.
Another man leaning against the wall exhaled a stream of smoke. He was taller than the ones glaring at her, but had an intense gaze that made her feel vulnerable in the night. Mira crossed her arms against the hard stare. “And who are you?”
“Mi chiamo Carlo. Back off boys. I’ll tell the boss you’re here,” he winked. She nodded her thanks and waited. Carlo did as promised. He was in the cottage for under five minutes before he opened the door for her to enter. The darkness closed in on her. She wished she could find a light switch. The front door to the cottage closed behind her. After a few minutes her vision adjusted to the shadowy atmosphere. She bumped furniture, walked towards a door to the back of the place and wondered if she should instead climb the stairs. The knob felt cool to the touch. She turned it slowly. Again more darkness. Was he in there?
“Che vuoi da me?” A deep man’s voice said to her left. Mira wasn’t sure but she believed that he asked what she wanted from him. A bright orange glow of a half smoked cigar was all she could see, until the orange red flames dimmed.
“I’ve been waiting, looking for you. Why are you sitting in the dark?” she asked. The moonlight defined his frame, but his face was covered in shadows.
“Why would you walk out here in the middle of the night dressed like that?” He sat upright. Part of his face became clear in the shadows. His hard tone and stare stopped her heart.
“There’s nothing wrong with what I have on.” She looked down at herself. “This robe stops no lower than the dress I wore today.”
“You shouldn’t be parading in front of these men in underwear! Show some got damn respect,” he yelled.
Mira stunned, turned and headed for the door. Reaching for the knob her anger stopped her. She glared back over at him, seeing him. He drank from a bottle instead of a glass. He made no attempt to stop her or explain himself further.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you acting like a mean jackass? How do you say asshole in Italian?”
He chuckled. “Briccone!”
“Yes! That’s what you are. A mean briccone! There’s no reason to attack me the way you did. I came out here out of concern for you, and you all but called me a whore!”
Giovanni rose in the dark, the bottle clutched by the neck in his left hand. The other balled into a fist. He stalked toward her. She stood her ground, with folded arms, though her hands trembled with nervous energy. He stopped with a barely a foot of space between them. He reeked of tobacco and the strongest stench of whiskey she’d ever smelled. “Leave,” he said. “I won’t stop you. Go back to your pampered life. I won’t beg you to stay.” His voice held a shaky uncertainty that she couldn’t help but recognize as weakness. He turned up the bottle drinking more, his gaze never shifting from her.
Mira ran her hand back over the wall to her right, never breaking his stare. Her fingers brushed the switch and flipped it up. The state of him was just the beginning. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot red. Still he managed to glare down at her. She got a good look of the destruction he had to have done to the room. His chair was all that remained upright. Glass and broken furniture was everywhere. A desk that looked to weigh over 200 pounds was flipped over on its side and the walls had stains from bottles of liquor from the bar being smashed against it.
He walked away. She stepped over what she assumed used to be an office chair and almost lost her balance. Shaking her head she walked over to the side of him studying his face. Reaching she touched his hair and he snatched away. “I won’t ask what this is about. It’s none of my business.”
Giovanni took another long swallow from the bottle. Mira reached for it and gently removed it from his hand. “Please stop drinking.”
He glanced down at her.
“Have you decided? Who I am? What I am? Have you decided on whether we can be friends or are we just fucking?”
“You know we’re more than that.” Mira said.
“So you’ve decided to stay?” His eyes stretched.
She opened her mouth to object, but something in his tone and the look he gave her made her waver. He was on the edge in the moment and rejection was something he wouldn’t tolerate. Men were such fragile babies when it came to pride and ego. “Is there a… room here? Some place other than this where we can be alone? Talk?”
“Upstairs,” he sighed, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes.
She stepped to his side and eased her arm around his waist. “Show me.”
Giovanni dropped his arm around her shoulders and together they walked over the destruction to what was once his office.
Giovanni allowed her to hold him steady so they could climb the stairs together. Making it to the landing, he took the lead and her hand to go towards the only two bedrooms in the cottage. One was a disaster, and men would often visit and crash there. But he kept the other tidy and neat. He didn’t realize how tired and drunk he was until he lowered to the bed. He could barely reach for her before his brain became a dull fog and sleep fell on him like an anvil.
Mira frowned. Was he snoring? He’d passed out on her! She looked around the room and realized that this was it. This was his life and she could run now or be caught up in this tangled affair. Releasing a burdened sigh she picked up his long heavy legs and brought them over to the mattress making him lay horizontal. Giovanni moaned saying something in Italian. Mira swore that she’d take damn lessons. She was going to learn this language and soon. Part of her could have sworn he called her out of her name. But she couldn’t be sure. Maybe Catalina could teach her the curse words so she could be a step ahead of him.
She removed his shoes, pants, and struggled with unbuttoning and pulling his long arms out of his shirt. Exhausted she decided to leave him in his t-shirt, underwear and socks.
Hot from the stuffiness of the room she reached up to the cord hanging from the ceiling fan, yanking it. A soft breeze cut through the air as the long blades whipped around in lazy circular moves. Taking off her robe she put it over the chair in the corner of the room before stepping out of her slippers. Mira then went to the window in the room and threw it open to let fresh air inside. She looked down and saw the same three men milling around and shook her head. It was this life that had him drinking himself into a stupor, and made his sister terrified of him enough to keep an affair behind his back. Her head turned to look back at her lover. He had rolled over to his side. Hair that was normally combed back was now covering his brow. He looked like a sleeping giant.
Her heart ached for whatever stole the joy from him that they’d experienced earlier in the day at the vineyard. Stepping away from the open window, she went back to the bed and worked the sheets from under him, moving in close and lifting his arm to allow her further access as she kissed his nose sweetly.
Immediately feeling her next to him his heavy bloodshot eyes opened slightly and he looked at her, half smiling. Grabbing her butt cheek and squeezing he pulled her closer, kissing her. She tasted the whiskey and cigar on his breath and turned her face away. “Sleep it off and we can talk in the morning.”
He began to kiss along the side of her neck pushing her nightie up and slipping his rough hand in her panties. His voice was muffled but she was sure he spoke. Feeling him try to roll her over as his hand moved to the front of her panties massaging her between her legs, she shook her head and struggled underneath him. “Sleep it off.” She refused him.
He let her go and rolled back over to his back with an angry grunt. His hand shot up to his forehead. Mira slid her arm across his chest, snuggling him.
Giovanni fully woke. He lifted his hand from his face and peered down at the top of her head. He raised his other hand and smoothed over her thick hair smiling to himself that she was at his side even now. She was his donna, and didn’t even know it. He desired her, needed to be inside of her, but after the way he treated her he decided not to push it further. Instead he let go of his anger and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Later that night ~
Giovanni felt his stomach clench. He opened his eyes in time to suppress the urge to gag. Mira had rolled over to her side of the bed and was resting peacefully. He sat up, feverish with his own sweat. A wave of nausea overtook him, and he knew he had to get to the bathroom. He rushed in time to spill his guts in the toilet. He’d drunk so much with little other than cheese and sliced fruit on his stomach. He was surprised he hadn’t suffered from alcohol poisoning.
Flushing, he went to the sink grabbing the spare toothbrush and reaching for the toothpaste. As he began to brush his teeth, he felt his stomach settle, and control over his body was restored. He’d done damage like this before, and his body knew how to self-medicate.
“You okay?” a sleepy voice whispered behind him.
Looking up to the mirror, he saw her standing behind him, her hair tussled around her head, rubbing her eyes. She was a vision of beauty as always. Giovanni turned and stared down at her with a sly smile. “What are you doing up? Go back to bed, Bella.”
Mira blinked at him and said nothing. Giovanni saw the questions in her eyes, causing him deep pangs of guilt for yelling at her earlier. Avoiding the tension between them he turned back to the sink to finish brushing and rinsing out his mouth. Grabbing a hand towel from above the toilet he wiped at his face, “I’m sorry for earlier,” he said softly.
“I am too.”
Surprised he looked at her. “Why are you sorry?”
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t comfort you.”
“That’s not true,” he said, tossing the hand towel to the sink.
“It is true. If it weren’t, I wouldn’t have had to come out here to find you,” she said before turning to leave.
Reclining back on the sink, he rubbed the tension from his jaw. Catching the remnants of blood on his hand he looked back at the door she disappeared from. At some time during his rage he cut his hand in the palm. He didn’t want to expose her to his world, but his world was inescapable. Giovanni tried to scrub his hands free of the blood and wash away the violence of the night. He was good at being in control, but he failed at maintaining control when his heart was struck. He didn’t know how to be vulnerable to anyone, especially her. “Fuck.” Drying his hands off he walked back down the hall to the bedroom and found her in bed with the covers pulled up over her. Leaning in the doorframe, he watched her.
“Are you asleep?”
“No,” she answered.
“Can I join you?” he asked.
Mira pulled back the covers and extended her hand to him. He walked over to the bed. Standing at the foot of it, he removed his t-shirt and boxers. He eased in with her, and this time she didn’t resist his touching her. “Should we talk?” he asked.
“I don’t want to argue with you, so I’d rather go to sleep.”
He ran his hand over her back to her bottom and kissed the top of her brow. “Then maybe you can let me hold you,” he said pressing into her and kissing her shoulder. Taking his hand he rubbed her hip pushing up her thin gown. Sliding his hand around and upward he massaged one of her breasts, grinding his stiffening manhood into the back of her.
He felt her go stiff, and knew if he pushed for more, she’d resist. So he willed his erection down and held her. Sleep was a welcome event for them both.
“Bella?”
Morning came. His lips brushed hers, and her lids parted to a room full of light. She squinted against the brightness. The bed felt so warm and soft she literally felt as if she were floating. Her vision cleared and his face normalized. Mira raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. “Mmm,” she said. sparing him her morning breath. He however had brushed his teeth, again, and she could smell his fresh clean male scent. When had he showered? How long had she slept?
“It’s after ten,” he said. “An inspector is here to see you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I went back to the villa and got your things to wear, so you can dress.” He rose from the bed. Clutching the sheet to her breast she looked at him confused. “Why is an inspector here to see me?”
“I think it has something to do with your building.” He buttoned his shirt. “Don’t worry. Fabiana has met with him.” Giovanni leaned over, sitting on the edge of the bed and smiled, his hair disheveled and in his eyes. “Thank you for last night, for coming here. Are we okay?”
She nodded they were. Trying to smooth her hair, embarrassed by her state, she escaped the bed, bringing the sheet with her. He’d picked out a plum colored wrap dress and matching bra and panty set. She glanced over at him. He had to rummage through her things to find it.
“I like you in this. Will you wear it?”
Mira nodded she would. Picking up her clothes she held her tongue. She wasn’t ready for the day, let alone for how overwhelming his needs had become. All of it could wait. She felt anxious over having a visitor, especially concerning her business. She heard him leave the room as she entered the shower. The warm water against her skin, and the rising steam cleared her head. The night had been strange. She hadn’t forgotten what she’d seen between Catalina and Dominic. She hadn’t forgotten what she discovered when she found Giovanni, the blood on his hands, the pain in his voice. None of it. Not since she left Virginia had her life been so complicated. With Fabiana and Kei she always felt protected, almost sheltered in normalcy. Standing next to Giovanni, as his friend and lover, she felt a greater sense of responsibility. What it meant escaped her.
After she showered she dried herself, dressed, and finger combed her hair into a messy French braid. She found Giovanni downstairs. He was in his office with large plastic bags picking up the debris from the angry tantrum he’d thrown in the night. Still the room looked like a horror story.
“Hi?”
He glanced up. He straightened and smiled at her. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. Need help?”
“I have some men coming to finish, just wanted to get up some of the glass,” he said with a sheepish grin.
“I have a question.”
Giovanni glanced her way. Mira stepped forward. “It’s about your sister.”
He smiled. “She’s really happy you are helping her. The dress will be pretty? Right?”
“That woman you hired Giovanni, Clara. She’s not working in Catalina’s best interest.”
Giovanni ran his hands through his hair shaking his head. He really had so much on his mind today he didn’t want to debate the semantics of a wedding. He paid people for this. But seeing her take a genuine interest in his sister and the coordination of this event was endearing so he tried to be patient, “What has she done?”
“She sabotaged the girl’s dress. You should have seen what she tried to force on her.”
“Venuto,” he reached for her hand and pulled her to him.
Giovanni reached for her hand pulling her to him “I think it’s wonderful that you care about my sister and are helping her. I trust you, Bella. And I need a date for the wedding. Will you be my date?”
“I… okay, but, well this woman.”
“You and Catalina listen to Signora Clara. She’s a wise woman. Catalina will have a traditional Sicilian wedding, and Clara will see to it. If she objected to the dress, then there must be a reason. My sister will not flaunt fashion over our faith. I want her to be beautiful, can you make sure she is?”
“I will try. Giovanni, why an arranged marriage? Catalina is so young, why not send her off to school? Or let her fall in love on her own.”
Giovanni frowned. “Where does this question come from? Has my sister said she doesn’t want to marry Franco?”
“No. No. It’s just, I didn’t know arranged marriages were still done. I guess it’s my ignorance.”
He released a gust of a laugh. “Well it’s not always done. But in our family it is. My father arranged this marriage between our families, and Catalina is happy with the choice. Now enough of this.” He kissed her cheek. “You have a visitor waiting.”
****
Fabiana looked up when her friend walked in. She felt her heart sink. Mira smiled sweetly at her, and she looked away. The idea of lying to her made her stomach clench and her heart hurt. She sat silently as Lorenzo introduced the building inspector to Mira and barely listened when they told Mira that their boutique would be closed for the coming weeks until the building is up to code. Her friend asked the usual questions, panic in her voice and face. Fabiana couldn’t speak. She couldn’t say a word.
“Fabiana? What are we going to do?” Mira asked.
She gripped the chair, her gaze lifted to Lorenzo and his stayed on her. She glanced over to Giovanni who watched her as well. She should say to hell with them and call bullshit on it all. Grab her friend and walk out. Last night Lorenzo confessed something to her that had her terrified for him, for them all. He needed her help. To save his life she’d have to risk a friendship that meant more to her than anything in the world. What was she to do?
“Fabiana? What should we do?” Mira repeated.
“Don’t… don’t panic. This is only temporary,” Fabiana’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I made some calls while you were with,” her gaze shifted to the Don and away. “Giovanni. Angelique is going to bring over your designs. He’s agreed to give us space to work here. Until this matter is cleared up.”
“You did? How could you do that if he just told us the building was closed?” Mira frowned.
Fabiana stammered over her answer. “I found out about the problem late in the evening. I um, asked the inspector to come here. I didn’t want to worry you.”
Giovanni took her hand and kissed it. “I want to help. Let me.”
“What about our staff? Where will they be?”
She forced a smile. “Sending half of them to New York and the other half to Milan. We can join them in a few weeks. Setting things up now. See. No problem. We’ll handle it.”
Mira felt it. Something was off. Giovanni kept her hand in his, and Fabiana could barely make eye contact with her. The inspector needed a translator and again she felt like the only person in the room not in on the truth was her.
The inspector picked up his hat and situated it on his head. The man said a few more words in Italian to Giovanni and then left. “Are you okay with this? With us staying here?”
Giovanni smirked and she knew he was. In fact it played right into his request that she stay longer. Mira rubbed her temples, pacing. “This can’t work. This is wrong. It’s wrong.”
“Bella? Look at me.”
She stopped and looked at him. His smile melted her anxiety. “I will do whatever it takes to put this in order. Trust me.”
She glanced to Fabiana and Lorenzo. She had no reason not to trust them. Her gaze returned to Giovanni. Especially him. Her heart had grown fond of him. She nodded. “Well I’m yours.”
He kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. “Yes, you are.”
He then signaled to Lorenzo to follow him and the men walked out. Fabiana rose to leave behind them. “Freeze. Don’t you dare leave.”
Fabiana flashed her a pretty smile. She wore her hair in a slender ponytail. She’d chosen a pair of khaki colored capris and a sheer pink shirt with oversized sleeves that were adorned with tiny sequined beads circling her collar. Her friend smiled and stopped.
“What’s going on? How bad is it? Do we need to find another building to lease? Have you called our solicitor? Teddy?”
“Hey! Slow down!” Fabiana laughed. “It’s a setback. We can manage it. I can manage it. You know me. When I panic then you panic. Okay?”
“Mira! There you are!” Catalina hurried in. She and Fabiana froze. Catalina, in an all-white sundress, looked completely virginal compared to the seductress she saw having her way with her surrogate step-brother. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Signora Clara was on her heels. She scowled at Mira then Fabiana. “I thought we were going to Napoli to your store. So you can finish my dress.”
“Change of plans sweetie.” Fabiana said. “We will have some things brought here. Looks like you have house guests on an extended stay.”
“I don’t understand.” Catalina frowned.
“No worries. I will finish your dress. We can still drive into Naples and check for a few things.” Mira smiled.
“Great!” Catalina clapped. “The driver is out front. Signora Clara is coming too. Come on. Let’s go.”
Mira touched her messy hair and considered running upstairs for a comb and brush. “We’ll meet you out front. Let us get our purses.”
Catalina smiled and flounced out. The old woman shot them both a warning glare, turned up her nose, and followed. Mira rubbed her temples. First she had to deal with the mean tempered Don, who could turn into Casanova in a flash, and now her store doors were closed.
“You really up to doing this dress?”
“I can’t get out of it, now can I?”
Fabiana laughed. “Guess not.”
“Let’s go.”
Her friend grabbed her hand when she passed. “Mira, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
Mira hugged her. “Of course I trust you. Always.”
Giovanni strolled ahead. When they entered the billiard room he stopped. Dominic waited with Flavio Pricci. Thirty years his senior Flavio was a man of great respect and importance in Sicily, and now within the Cammora. As Giovanni’s consigliere he was the third most important man in the family.
“Lorenzo?” Flavio stepped toward him smiling. He was of average height, but very cleanly dressed and groomed. He looked ten years younger than his age, and Giovanni knew personally that Flavio had more women than one man should handle. But he remained a bachelor with no kids or entanglements. His focus was and had always been the family.
“Flavio!” Lorenzo greeted him warmly, kissing both of his cheeks and then giving him a welcoming hug. “I thought you were in Sicily?”
“I was.” He cut him a sly smirk. “Gio summoned me yesterday evening. Said we might have trouble.
“Trouble cousin?” Lorenzo feigned shock. “Is it Calderone?”
Giovanni didn’t answer. He continued to glare.
“Flavio!” Catalina squealed. She rushed into the office, arms flung wide. She crashed into Flavio causing him to lean back in their embrace. He hugged her tight, cupping her face and kissing her brow. Lorenzo watched as Flavio spoke in Italian to her, soft whispers of how beautiful she was becoming, and how proud he was to hear that the wedding plans were progressing. It was enough of a reprieve for him to turn his focus to Giovanni. For the first time since he’d arrived in the billiard room Giovanni was not glaring at him. His heart raced with indecision. Should he confess? Deny? What would be the preemptive move that would save his life?
“I knew you’d be back in time for the wedding.” Catalina gushed.
Mira appeared with Fabiana. Her presence among the women made Flavio’s brow rise. He narrowed his gaze on her. Lorenzo watched, mildly amused. Flavio was old school. Lorenzo suspected he wanted Giovanni free of the entanglements of women, to mold him further into the cold bastard Tomosino was. “You ladies leaving?” Lorenzo asked.
Giovanni winked at Mira and she crossed the room going to him. Flavio tracked her with his eyes and released Catalina to openly stare at her.
“Flavio. Meet Mira Ellison. She’s my guest.” Giovanni said.
Mira extended her hand. “Ciao.”
After a pause he accepted her hand and kissed her knuckles in greeting. He never spoke. Mira shyly stepped back to Giovanni’s side.
“She’s going to design my wedding dress!” Catalina proclaimed.
A light of understanding sharpened the steely grey stare he fixed her with. The old man actually looked relieved. Lorenzo shook his head at the scene.
“Time to go. We have some things to get before we start today. Are you staying for dinner? Please say yes!”
He nodded and patted Catalina’s cheek. Mira said something Lorenzo couldn’t hear to Giovanni and he chuckled. He kissed her in front of everyone before the ladies left.
Giovanni noticed the old man’s reaction to Mira. He’d address it privately. His attention switched to his cousin. Lorenzo met his gaze dead on as if there was nothing to hang his head in shame over. Again anger boiled his gut and made his chest tight. “Leave us. Flavio and I have things to discuss,” he said to the room. Lorenzo looked around, confused at the short reprieve. If Giovanni had learned nothing over the past years, it was that his emotions could never rule him. He let that happen once with the Russians and his men saw his weakness for his father. But his father was gone and that weakness was shelved. He could not and would not show the same irrational rage toward Lorenzo.
One by one the men left as he requested. Lorenzo was the last to draw the doors to the sunroom shut.
“They have not found Giuseppe’s body yet. We need to get to that body and make sure it’s never discovered.”
“So it’s proven. Lorenzo pulled the trigger?” Giovanni lowered to the chair.
“Dominic’s information is solid. I checked with some of the families in Sicily. Lorenzo and Giuseppe did business. No one knows for how long or for what. Your father is turning over in his grave.”
“Good. He can make room for Lorenzo when I bury him.”
“Is that how you would do it? Kill your cousin?”
“Do I have a fucking choice? If he’s betrayed me, this family, he has left me none.”
“If? That is the word you must consider before you act. If he betrayed the family. Lorenzo is a hot head, like his mother. She should have been born a man.” Flavio chuckled. He lowered to the chair across from Giovanni and crossed his legs. The gold tiepin sparkled against his all black attire. His salt and pepper hair extended to his neatly trimmed beard, and his grey eyes were vibrant with life and wisdom. Giovanni trusted him above all else.
Flavio smiled. “You are your father’s son.”
“My father wouldn’t have tolerated this insolence. He wouldn’t have stood for it.”
“Your father was a man of great strength. However, family was the source of that strength. Do you think he could have built all that you have without family?”
Giovanni’s eyes swept the room.
“No.” Flavio uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “He chose you son. The day you were put in his arms he chose you. He didn’t care about your mixed blood. You are his son.”
“He tested me.” Giovanni said bitterly.
“As a father should test a son.” Flavio nodded, and again Giovanni had to accept abuse for love. “He gave you a new name. Battaglia. A family within the Cammora that even the Dons of Sicily bow their heads in respect to. This was no easy feat.”
“Spare me the history lesson. I know it!”
“Do you?” Flavio’s gaze lifted as Giovanni rose and began to pace. “History is what we play our hand from. It’s what guides our future. You are stronger because of the men that are sworn to you. Lorenzo’s actions could work in your favor. If you are wise enough to know how to use it to the family’s advantage.”
Giovanni closed his eyes. He knew Flavio spoke the truth. Still Lorenzo defied him. The only explanation for the alliance to Giuseppe was to feed his greed. How could that go unpunished? Giovanni stopped. He cast his gaze to Flavio. “You want us to go to war with Calderone?”
Flavio smiled. “Think of it. No more begging the old Don for land purchases. You, Gio, can own the triangle. Genoa, Turin, Milan. All of it yours, unchallenged. And I’m speaking of legitimate business, not the squalor. The Cammora has no reach in northern Italy. This is your way.”
“A war will mean lives, bloodshed. For what? To make me as greedy as my cousin?”
Flavio waved it off. “To make you omniscient. It’s time for you to become what your father had been working for. Don Calderone is barely recovering from his stroke. He will act irrationally. He will spill blood first. A war is here, how you win the war is for you to decide.”
“Lorenzo should not go unpunished!” Giovanni slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. Flavio nodded his agreement.
“Lorenzo is impulsive and reckless. He’s never been satisfied with the title of underboss. This was bound to happen. I advised you years ago not to give him the gambling houses or the whores to manage. It was too big of a responsibility and temptation for him.”
“Well, obviously, you were right.” Giovanni mumbled.
“What you must consider is not the betrayal, Giovanni. We can deal with his flagrant disregard for the rules. See the bigger picture.”
Giovanni closed his eyes and sighed. “And what of respect, loyalty, honor? How is omerta held sacred without those three?”
“No kingdom has been built on flowers son. You need a strong foundation, hard muscle, and an unwavering message to all of your enemies that you will control both worlds. Then your enemies will respect you. The men you lead will be loyal to you. And Lorenzo will learn the meaning of honor.”
“What do I do?”
“What you must. Tell him what you must. Tighten his leash, and when things settle we revisit this conversation of respect, loyalty and honor. If he must be dealt with, then you put the family in order first.”
“I want to forgive him, to right this. I don’t know how.” Giovanni said.
Flavio smirked. “It’ll come.”
“Send for him.” Giovanni said. “Make sure the women are gone before he enters.” He removed his gun and put it on the table. Flavio stared at the weapon for a moment, and then lifted his dark gaze to him.
“A cool head, Gio. Remember.”
“I will try.”
He watched the old man leave. Waited until he returned with both Lorenzo and Dominic. Tomosino’s boys, as the three of them were often referred as. His father had a hand in the men they all had become. And it was true he could see the best and worst of his father in him and Lorenzo. Today he’d have to rise above his pride for the greater good. One look at his lying cousin and that became an insufferable task.
“I’ll ask it one time.” Giovanni began. “Careful of your answer. Why did you kill Giuseppe Calderone?”
Lorenzo heard the door open behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know that Nico and the boys had arrived. Things would get ugly before it settled. He eased his hands into his pockets and gave a one shoulder shrug. “I did it for the family.”
Giovanni smirked. “Is that so?”
“You were right to close Isabella’s. We didn’t know that the Albanians had young girls, or if it was Francesco who soiled our business. The family and our honor were jeopardized because of it. You were right cousin and I was wrong. But there’s something you don’t know.” Lorenzo swallowed. He thought of Fabiana’s words to him. Last night he confessed. He told her of how his jealousy got him to drinking in Genoa one night, the night he stumbled into Giuseppe’s club and bitterly told his tale of being rejected by the Don. When he learned that Don Tomosino had no intention of letting Giovanni go, but would bring him back and make him next in the line to lead Battaglia. That night he and Giuseppe commiserated over how they loathed their fathers. And whether it was a joke or boastful bragging, they suggested taking a shot at each other’s Don to free them. Lorenzo didn’t mean it. But Giuseppe hired some Russians to do the job. The bastard set it into motion, and Lorenzo could do nothing to stop it. He confessed this shame to Fabiana and she held him, took his burden and swore to help him through it. Now he had to remember her advice. To not falter, not waver from his truth, but to do anything to keep the nasty details from his cousin.
“Continue.” Giovanni said. “What is it I don’t know?”
“The real threat that I’ve kept from you is the Nigerians. They’ve started moving drugs along the Amalfi, and Giuseppe helped them. He tricked me.”
Giovanni tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.
“I was trying to gain some advantage in Genoa. I had agreed to let Giuseppe import through my line of the coast.”
The Amalfi was hard to move in and out of without being stopped by patrols. Giovanni never had this problem because of the people on his payroll. This gave Lorenzo the freedom to take liberties that he shouldn’t have. A coil of rage tightened his lungs, and Giovanni breathed slow and easy to remain calm and hear the tale. He nodded to Nico, and his enforcer stepped directly behind Lorenzo.
His cousin wiped his jaw, his gaze unsteady as it switched from Giovanni to Flavio, then to Dominic. “Rare antiquities that were being put in the market. Giuseppe wanted to deal with the Nigerians to handle it. Players we don’t know. I believed him, at first. Then I checked a shipment myself. A small bust broke and inside was drugs. When I confronted the worm, he admitted to bringing in drugs. I was outraged. We argued, he insulted Papa, you, and our family. So I killed him.”
“Albanians, Russians, Nigerians, what the fuck is this Gio, the UN of thieves? Why are all these outsiders circling? And why, Lorenzo, did you not think to tell any of this?” Flavio asked.
“I had it under control.”
“You figured.” Giovanni nodded. “You decided for all of us.”
“I made a mistake. I tried to rectify it, Giovanni.”
He rose from his chair. He stood before the gun and Lorenzo. Every man in the room tensed. Lorenzo’s voice broke the stand-off. “I am guilty, but is it worth my life Giovanni? What do you need from me, cousin, for me to gain your forgiveness?”
“It is not worth your life.” Giovanni half smiled. “I couldn’t do that to Catalina. But you have lost all privileges. Including the house in Bellagio. Dominic is now my left hand.”
“Giovanni!” Lorenzo barked. “That is not just!”
His lips curled into an angry snarl. “It is the only justice today for what you have done!” he yelled.
“And? That’s it? I’m an errand boy?”
“You’re alive. Show some gratitude.” Flavio warned.
Lorenzo turned to respond, but Nico delivered a hard punch to his spine. Unexpectedly, Lorenzo's knees buckled, and he dropped on all fours. Renaldo grabbed Lorenzo’s hair and yanked it up as Nico stepped in front of him and started to pound his fists into his face until blood spewed from his nostrils and mouth. Semi-conscious Lorenzo fell over to the floor, and all four men began to kick him in the chest, back, even to the face. Giovanni glanced up to Dominic who had fear in his eyes. He nodded that the beating could cease. Dominic yelled for the men to stop and shoved them several feet away from Lorenzo. He went to his knees, checking on him. Giovanni walked back to his desk and sat behind him.
“Clean him up. Don’t let Catalina see him that way.”
They carried him out. As angry as he was with him, he loved him still. Killing him at the end of this would be the hardest thing he would have to do. Yet the lessons learned from his father and his uncles made him a man capable of it. Lorenzo knew this. They were all on borrowed time.