Chapter Fifteen
Mira walked inside. Rather she floated now after the day she’d had with the Battaglia’s. Even when alone, she found herself constantly smiling. She suffered a dull ache of desire at the thought of the night he promised her. She agreed to let him handle some business affairs and to pack a bag. Where they were headed, she didn’t know. However, he made it quite clear what he intended to do once he had her alone.
A sly smile tugged the corner of her mouth.
“Signorina?” A voice said behind her. He cleared his throat in a resonant way, and she paused. A very distinguished man with stern grey eyes stepped into view. “Flavio Pricci. I work for Giovanni,” he said politely, touching his silk tie and smoothing it flat to his chest. He wore a dark grey suit with a black shirt and tie. He had the most compelling grey eyes.
“Ciao Flavio. Yes. I met you a few days ago.”
“Can we share a cup of cappuccino, talk?” he gestured to the open parlor that faced the back of the estate. Mira glanced inside. A staff member had prepared a tray and was setting things in order. It appeared Flavio had been waiting for her. The challenge in his unwavering stare made it impossible to refuse.
“Sure,” she said.
“Prego…” he nodded for her to take the lead. She felt his melting grey eyes tracking her as she passed him by. Rooms like this one were everywhere on the lower floor. Walls of windows that were pushed open to allow a constant cool breeze, and comfortable furnishings sparsely placed. Mira took a seat on a whicker sofa with large plush peach pillows and waited for him to join her. There was a remote detached feel to his manner when he did. As if this was a business meeting and not the casual conversation she expected. The young man in all white who had set up the cappuccino left without being instructed to and closed the door behind him. This too she noticed since no doors were closed on the lower level. She traveled from one room to the next uninhibited.
“Lovely ceremony today.” Mira said.
Flavio stared at her for a pause then gave her a perfunctory nod. “The Battaglia’s are a close family, very respected. Catalina’s wedding had to be special. I hear thanks to you it was.”
“I don’t follow?” Mira frowned.
“The dress. Quite lovely work.”
Mira hadn’t realized that Flavio knew she made the dress. How involved was he in the details of the family, and why did he stare at her so critically? She reached for her cup and added some sugar to ease her discomfort. “So you work for Giovanni?”
“I’ve been with the family for many years. His father and I were close—associates. I worked for him and now I do the same service for Giovanni.”
“As? If I’m not being too forward in asking.”
“Attorney, consultant, advisor.”
“Oh.” She sipped the coffee. The hot dark liquid seared her tongue, but she ignored it. The sting was enough to sharpen her senses. She felt the need to be alert around him.
“I’m curious about you, Mira,” Flavio crossed his left leg over his right. “I’ve read how well you’ve done with your business in Milano. You are quite accomplished now that you’ve launched your clothes here, more so than in the States. Forgive my limited English. I don’t want to sound rude.”
“Go on?” Mira said curiously.
“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be attending to that business?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The nature of your relationship with Gio? Friendship? Lovers? Exactly how long do you intend to stay?”
“That’s none of your business.” Mira frowned.
Flavio sighed. “Unfortunately, it is my business. Everything about Giovanni Battaglia is my business. That is who I am. If you haven’t seen by now, then I suspect you have guessed he is very important to this family. I assumed his fondness with you would pass, but he’s distracted. I have you to thank for this.”
“How dare you? Giovanni is a grown man, and I’m his friend. He invited me here, and he and I will decide how long I stay. If he’s distracted from your business, then you need to take that up with him.”
“You know what he is. Don’t you?” Flavio’s smoky grey glare narrowed and she felt chilled by the malicious darkness she could see in his stare.
“What he is, is a good man, a friend…”
Flavio smirked.
Her voice faltered. Mira considered walking out on the conversation. The air of authority Flavio exuded kept her seated. However, he would not intimidate her. First Catalina shares what it was to be a girlfriend to a Mafia boss in hope she’d stay. Now she had this man seeking to run her off. It was a wonder Giovanni had any normalcy in his life at all. “Of course you know. Or you think you know. I want to clear up the mystery for you.”
“No thank you.” Mira stood. “I think I’ll go find Giovanni and tell him about this conversation.” She walked toward the door.
“Pity your store had to close. I hear it’s why you’ve had some of your things moved in here.” Flavio reached for his coffee.
Mira stopped and looked down at him. “Yes, Giovanni was quite generous.”
“Generous?” Flavio chuckled. “That’s an interesting word. Don’t you find it strange that the very building he wanted unobstructed access to has been closed twice without any legal documentation? On the word of some inspector who could speak no English?”
“How do you know about that?”
“It’s my point, Mira. I know everything. It’s you cara that has been kept in the dark.”
The news weighed her to the spot. Giovanni setting her up hurt, but for him to pull this off it would mean that Fabiana played a part in the deception too. “You’re lying,” she said.
“Am I? Are you sure? Have you spoken to your attorneys, your solicitor, anyone outside of these walls since you arrived? The building meets code, it always has. You can return to it as soon as you like. I suggest, you open your eyes and realize this is not a world you belong in.”
She opened the door to walk out, seething with rage.
“Signorina Mira.” Flavio called after her. She stopped and glanced back at him. He still sat with his back to her sipping his cappuccino. “I wouldn’t confront Giovanni with what you know. After all you do know what kind of man he is.”
Mira left the bastard. Her heart hammered in her chest. How could Fabiana do this? Why?
Lorenzo paced. Angry, ashamed, and bitter he ignored the murderous glare Carlo fixed on him. He had no time to deal with the rift between them. He and Carlo kept no secrets, but this thing with Calderone he had done solo. He knew his friend was hurt and confused by his actions. All of it would have to wait. Angelo Calderone had a bullet with his name on it, and he itched to pull the trigger to unleash it. How dare he come to their home on Catalina’s wedding day and disrespect his family this way? How dare he? He paced more. They’d been waiting for an eternity. He was on edge.
“Where’s Domi?” Lorenzo checked his watch.
Carlo twirled the toothpick in his mouth but didn’t answer. Nico and the others sat around in silence. They all watched him. The door opened and more of the top capus in the family entered. Dominic wasn’t among them. He was now underboss, so he should be leading the troops to the General. It burned Lorenzo’s guts that Dominic had details Lorenzo felt he should rightfully know.
“Is it true?” Carlo asked.
Lorenzo paused. He looked up at his friend. “Is what true?”
“That all this time you were Giuseppe’s cowardly puttana!”
“Vaffanculo!” Lorenzo seethed, his teeth clenched.
Carlo chuckled and a few others did as well, furthering his humiliation. He took a step toward Carlo, and his friend rose from his lean against the wall. The dark malevolent smile spreading across Carlo’s lips indicated he thirsted for the fight. Giovanni and Dominic entered the room and both paused at the rigid stance of both men. The others fell silent.
Giovanni’s gaze volleyed between Carlo and Lorenzo. Both men backed away. He turned his attention to Dominic. “Where’s Flavio?”
“He should be here shortly.”
“Find him now. Everyone needs to hear what I have to say.”
“We need to talk!” Mira took hold of Fabiana’s arm. She dragged her from what appeared to be a polite conversation between Fabiana, Aurora, and a few other women in the Battaglia family. She marched toward the only door available to them, the double stone and wood carved ones that led out of the front of the estate. Battaglia family members were saying their goodbyes and loading up in their cars.
“What on earth is wrong with you? Ow! That hurts!” Fabiana backed away on the gravel circular drive with a look of confused intolerance on her face. Mira struggled with her anger. She was caught between tears and outright rage. She marched down the front steps and Fabiana backed away. The few men outside around the parked cars all stared at them.
“You lied to me didn’t you? Didn’t you? You’ve been lying to me for weeks!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Never, ever would I believe you would do something like this. Which is probably why it was so easy to feed me this bullshit.”
“Would you calm down and tell me what has you so crazy right now? What have I done?”
“Did you or did you not conspire with Giovanni and Lorenzo to convince me that the Italian Republic had my store closed?”
Fabiana’s eyes stretched. “Who told you that?”
“Answer me dammit! It was all a lie. Was that man who came here an officer of the courts or just some clown in a suit? What did Giovanni give you to sell us out of our business so he could get access to those cellars? What? Did my fucking him become part of the deal too?”
“Stop.” Fabiana shouted, she looked around at the others watching then stepped in close to Mira. She spoke with a lowered but exact manner that made Mira a bit wary too. “Don’t say another word. We can’t have this conversation out here. People are watching. Do you understand me?”
Mira summoned control, but the angry disappointment caused tears to fall. Fabiana spun and looked around at those watching. She marched to one car to yank open the door then another, but most if not all were locked. Ahead was a tow truck, on the back of it a shiny sports car that was dropped from its platform. Fabiana grabbed Mira’s hand and dragged her to the car. The men looked a bit confused when Fabiana began to speak to them in an angry loud manner. They exchanged looks, unsure of her request. Fabiana snatched the keys from one and opened the door. “Get in Mira. Now.”
“Where are we going?” Mira demanded.
“Get the hell in so we can talk. In private.”
Mira got in the car, and Fabiana slammed the door then walked around the car and got in on the other side. The men stood outside observing. The younger one eventually signed whatever paperwork before him and walked off.
“I want to explain.”
Mira dropped her head back and sighed. “I’m such an idiot. This man was playing me from day one. He told me he wanted that store, and I just fell in bed with him, believed his bullshit.” She glanced over. “Why Fabiana? Why lie to me?”
“I didn’t know the first time the store was closed that Giovanni Battaglia ordered it. That he tricked us when he did the favor for reopening it. I really thought they were trying to help us. I swear that to you.”
Mira exhaled a pained breath. “That’s right. It was a lie from the beginning.”
“Things got complicated. We were given a lease that put us between two very powerful families. The Sicilian businessman I told you about, Mancini, he wasn’t supposed to give us that building. Lorenzo explained it to me. It’s Cammora territory and it’s used for… for things you don’t want to know. They couldn’t let us stay in there and conduct business.”
“Business. So you know their business now?” Mira asked.
Fabiana burst into tears. “I’m sorry. Okay? I should have told you. I felt like shit. I only did this because we were in the middle. To not do what they wanted just wasn’t an option.”
“Why would we care about what they want? What is it you aren’t telling me?”
“Lorenzo has killed a man.”
As if struck Mira drew back, the right side of her body pressed to the door, “What?”
“A man named Giuseppe Calderone. He confessed it to me. He killed a man and now he’s in trouble with a very powerful Mafia family and his own. I’ve been trying to help him.”
“How the hell could you? How deep are you in this?”
“We’re in this. Trust me Giovanni Battaglia is far worse than Lorenzo, Mira. Whatever Lorenzo has done, it comes down to those cellars and the deliveries they take in and out of them from the Amalfi coast. He’s not going to tell me the dirty details but you can put it together. We can’t have people that work for us in that kind of danger. I… I had to do something, that kept it contained. To remove us from it altogether.”
“Then why not come to me? Why let me think this man cares about me when he was just using me? For Christ’s sake, I moved my things in here. We shouldn’t be here!”
Fabiana shook her head sadly. “I love Lorenzo. That’s why. And you already said you’ve fallen for Giovanni.”
“Stop it!”
“It’s true! I love him. And I think he loves me. It’s how they are. Secrecy and lies is who they are. When you said we should leave for New York I figured it would be best, especially since we now have to go. Lorenzo told me this morning that things here are going to get intense. So it’s time to go.” Fabiana nodded, wiping at her tears. “I figured I wouldn’t have to tell you all of this. Let them work through their shit, and we could see them outside of this world. Maybe…”
“Stop it. You did this for Lorenzo. Plain and simple. And now that you know he’s killed someone you’re in danger too. Do you think that man is going to let you walk out of here with that knowledge? He didn’t tell you that secret without some motives. He sure as hell isn’t going to let you in and out of his life with that kind of information. You put us in the middle of this and now we’re in so deep neither of us will be able to walk away.” Mira put her hand to her forehead. “Want to know what scares me?”
Fabiana’s teary gaze slipped to her.
“I think you knew from day one what they were into. I think you brought us here on purpose.” Mira closed her eyes. “Trapped here with them is exactly where you want us to be.”
Giovanni laid it all out for everyone. Sharing with his men his failures was not an easy task. Flavio arrived half way through his announcement. Even the old man couldn’t counsel him against what he was to do next. “We’re closing in ranks. Collect every dime that’s owed. The gambling houses in Naples are too close as well. Be prepared for anything. Angelo Calderone hasn’t made the first move so…”
“We have to.” Carlo nodded. “We know what this is.”
“Do you?” Giovanni said. “Because every one of our business interests is to be heavily armed. The Calderone’s like to firebomb, and plant bombs. It’s how they strike.”
“Boss? Scusi?”
The men parted to reveal the young one who had entered. Carmine was only eighteen, and a protégé of Carlo’s. He’d seen the boy around a few times. Carlo’s face deepened into a red angry scowl. He appeared incensed over his arrival. Only high-ranking men in the family were to attend this meeting.
“There’s trouble.” Carmine said, to the men glaring at him.
“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” Giovanni asked, sitting upright from his slouch in his chair.
“The women. They’re out front—fighting.”
Lorenzo looked up from the chair he was seated in and his eyes met with Giovanni’s. Carlo threw his hands up and began cursing, shoving the kid toward the door. The other men laughed.
“Wait!” Giovanni ordered. “Let him finish. What women?”
“Your women.” Carmine said, pointing to him and Lorenzo. “They’re fighting inside your Ferrari,” he leveled his finger now at Lorenzo.
“My car is in with the mechanic.” Lorenzo said.
“It was brought back. I signed for it.” Carmine said.
Lorenzo shook his head. “No, that’s not possible. I spoke to Gino and he said it would be weeks before he could look at it…”
Giovanni frowned. Lorenzo glanced to him with a confused furrow to his brow. Without a word they both bolted out of the room.
“How could you say that to me?”
“From day one you knew what Lorenzo was. Didn’t you?”
“I suspected but—.”
“You knew! And when he offered to dig in to our affairs you rejected it. Why did you change your mind? A wink, a kiss, what the hell made you think dealing with him wouldn’t lead us here?”
“Mira, please, don’t be angry with me. I made a call, a bad call…”
Mira’s hand shot up to silence her. She then wiped the tears from her face. “We’re leaving. Now. I don’t care what the hell your motives are for helping him, and betraying me. We’ll deal with it in New York. I’m getting you the hell out of here before something bad happens. Now dammit!” she opened the car door and tossed angry words back at Fabiana. “I can’t trust you. When we get back to the states I don’t want you managing Mirabella’s business affairs anymore.”
“What?” Fabiana gasped.
“I know you’re a partner, and we’ll work it out, but if you could do this to us, it means I don’t know you at all.”
“I love you.” Fabiana pleaded. “I made a mistake.”
“Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing. It’s time I start taking control, hell for both our sakes.” Mira got out of the car and slammed the door. She began to walk away but her legs felt like she had anklets carved out of lead strapped to them. She was possibly too harsh, too quick to judge, but dammit lies weren’t a part of their friendship. She glanced back hoping her friend was behind her. Fabiana remained in the car. Her head pressed to the steering wheel as she wept. Mira lost her conviction at the sight of her pain. Fabiana was in trouble. Lorenzo confessed to murdering someone, and she was helping him, how? Was she going as far as to cover it up?
Dammit. In all her anger she hadn’t truly digested what her friend told her. “Fabiana!” she said about to approach the car. Loud shots erupted behind her. Confused, Mira’s head turned to see Giovanni and Lorenzo running full speed out of the villa toward her. Mira froze, not sure of why they were coming after her, she panicked. Was it because she knew about what Lorenzo had done?
She turned and started to run toward the car away from the men in pursuit of her when a bright flash exploded in front of her face, a hot white light that blinded and rendered her deaf by its force. Her body felt as if it were on fire. In a wave of heat she was airborne for what felt like an eternity. She sailed backward then crashed hard. Darkness.
They didn’t have to speak a word to each other. They knew. They knew! Giovanni and Lorenzo ran through the house shoving family members and staff out of the way. The men were behind them, still they couldn’t run faster, and they both tried. They nearly crashed through the door together. Outside in the sunlight the cars were parked in an intricate arrangement making his head spin. Precious moments ticked by before his sweeping gaze located her. Mira was walking toward Lorenzo’s car. He yelled her name. He shouted for her to get away from the car, but didn’t realize he did so in Italian. Her head turned. In that brief moment of recognition, he thought he saw fear in her pretty eyes. He yelled again, with Lorenzo yelling for Fabiana. His Bella shocked him by running away from him. He chased after her but it was too late. The car exploded. She was thrown across the lot and landed hard on her back. The explosion knocked them all on their asses. The roof and hood of the car shot through the air, caught in a bright orange and reddish yellow fireball. Every window of every car in his drive was blown out and shards of glass rained on them. Giovanni, stunned, struggled to rise on his hands and knees. He could hear Lorenzo’s groaning at his side. His head lifted, and he noticed Mira lying still on her back, just four feet in front of him.
He literally crawled to her as Lorenzo called out for Fabiana over and over. Men running with extinguishers rushed the car. Something was wrong with his hearing. It made all sounds a bit muffled at first, and then the noise level skyrocketed sending a piercing pain through his skull. One of his men shouted that the other woman was in the car. His cousin ran for the fire, and they had to tackle him to the ground. He yelled Fabiana’s name over and over.
Giovanni reached Mira. Her eyes were closed, her face red and swollen, her lip bleeding and blood spilled from one of her nostrils. The sight of her sent a shock wave of guilt and grief through him. “Bambina, Mirabella, wake… wake…” Giovanni shook her hard. She didn’t budge. He gathered her in his arms and pressed her face to his chest shouting for help.
“Now, Gio! Take her in now!” Flavio yelled at him. He hadn’t realized that Flavio had spoken to him. Apparently several were trying to take her from his arms and carry her inside. He clung to her desperately, confused. “Listen to me. There may be more bombs, get her inside! Now!”
With the help of another, he managed to rise, and then hold her steady in his arms. He carried her inside past family and others. The women inside of his home were wailing and hugging each other. Several ran over, wanting to take her from him.
“Stay the fuck back!” he yelled at them all, staggering toward the stairs. Eventually a few others swarmed him, and they helped him carry her up and into his room. He had taken a nasty fall as well. The back of his head pounded. She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. Her stillness was his madness. He pressed his ear to her chest and listened for her heart. He heard the faint beating and nearly wept in relief.
“The dottore is on his way,” Flavio said.
“Fabiana? She dead?” Giovanni asked.
“Yes. Lorenzo drew his weapon outside. He nearly shot one of the boys. They have him restrained in Villa Rosso. The carabineri and polizia di stato will all be here soon. We have minutes.”
Giovanni swayed and one of his uncles steadied him. “Who? Angelo? The Nigerians? Who?”
“Dominic’s on it. Not sure.”
He looked back at Mira. “She alive? Is she alive?” he shouted at his aunt who was checking her. Her heartbeat was so faint he feared it had stopped altogether with how still she remained. The old woman stepped back from the bed saying a prayer. He returned to Mira’s side. He kissed her brow, her lips, but still she didn’t respond. He put his head to her chest and checked for life again. She was strong, very strong. “She’s going to be fine,” he said to himself. “I heard her heartbeat. She’s going to recover.” Giovanni said in a shaky voice.
“Gio?”
“She hit her head, that’s all. She’s going to be fine.”
“We need to talk.” Flavio said sternly. “You need to be out of the villa. Now.”
“Maybe I should get ice for her head…what do you think Flavio? Ice to stop the swelling? Her face isn’t burned, it’s just… the blast just hit her hard. Where is the blood from? Is it a head injury? Does that make you bleed from the nose? I don’t see any cuts…”
He grabbed Giovanni by the shoulders. “We took a hit. Here. In Melanzana. You need to get to Villa Rosso with the men and let me handle things. Now. Before the place is filled with the polizia and we are unable to act. Go.”
“I’m not leaving her!” he roared back, tears glistening in his eyes. “I won’t!”
“I’ll stay.”
“Get the fuck out of my way!”
“Go, Gio. Take care of the family, and I’ll stay with her until the dottore comes. We’ll send for you.”
“That fat fucker Don Calderone is to be brought to me on his knees! Oh there will be war, a war like they’ve never seen, and every man or woman that bears the name Calderone will spill blood over what happened here today.” Giovanni stood. He shook off his shock and focused.
Flavio nodded in agreement.
“I can’t leave her. She needs to see me first when she opens her eyes. I have to tell her that her friend… shit, shit, I can’t leave her yet. What the fuck am I going to tell her about her friend?”
“She doesn’t belong here, Gio, surely you can see that.”
Giovanni looked at him. “What are you saying?”
“When she’s well, she needs to return to America.”
“No. They know who she is. She’s safest with me.”
Flavio sighed. “Giovanni she’s an American. Her friend is a well-known American. Soon the press will get a hold of this. We don’t have long before the world is at our door. She has to go. She doesn’t understand our ways. And even greater still, you can’t do the things necessary if you are consumed with holding on to her.”
Giovanni looked back toward Mira. “I will protect her. She needs me now. We will get through this together.”
“I’ve seen this before, Gio. Your father. Don’t you recall the stories of his obsession with your mother, the war in the families when Evelyn’s father went to Don Chicoli for revenge? How many men, men in your family, our family have lost their lives because of Tomosino’s obsession? You can’t make the mistake he did. She doesn’t belong here.”
He had to consider Flavio’s warning. Things would become far worse, and life with him now would risk her own. Still he couldn’t part with her. Not when her world was ripped apart. She needed him and he needed her.
Mira gasped, her chest heaving, lungs expanding as she took in a deep breath. She exhaled, coughed and sucked down air. Her head hurt so bad tears slipped from her eyes. Someone was at her side. He spoke to her but his voice was muffled, distant. He touched her, and it burned. What had happened? What the hell happened?
“Mira, bambina, Mirabella!”
She couldn’t think, nothing surfaced but the pain in her head, shoulders, back and the hot feel of her skin.
“She’s not responding. Where the hell is the dottore?” the muffled voice bellowed. It was a man’s voice. She blinked and her vision remained a haze of light and shadows. Sweet merciful God was she dead, dying? The person touched her face and she winced. It felt as if a layer of her skin had been peeled away.
“Bella… please, look at me.”
The kind blue-violet eyes of Giovanni loomed, and suddenly she felt such unbelievable relief. It was a dream! Just a stupid dream. He became clearer and horror settled in. His disheveled appearance jarred her. Black soot was smeared on his face, and his tuxedo shirt was marred with dirt that looked be mixed with blood. Dread engulfed her, and her cloudy memory cleared to remind her of the bitter truth. Fabiana and she argued. Her friend was in trouble. She cried. She needed her and she left her. Then…
“Fabiana!” Mira screamed. “Fabiana!”
He drew her into his arms, and her face was buried into his chest. She clung to him certain that her fear was unfounded. Fabiana had gotten out of the car and was okay. Did she see her get out of the car? Yes! Yes! She was sure she saw her. Didn’t she?
“Fabiana. Fabiana. Fabiana. Fabiana.” She choked out in her sobs. “No!” she hit at him trying to break free. “No!” she struggled and bucked on the sheets until he pinned her down. Another person was at the bed. He spoke fast and hurriedly in Italian. People were all around her. She looked at Giovanni horrified. “Get away from me! You’re trying to kill me! Don’t let him kill me. Please! Please! Get away!”
The other man removed a needle. Giovanni shouted at him in Italian. They were going to kill her. Just as they killed Fabiana. They wanted her dead. “Let me go! Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!”
Pinned to the bed she screamed until she was breathless. Tears flowed and the sting of a needle inserted into her arm released a hot serum in her veins. Immediately the numbing daze she found herself in when she woke returned. Everything faded including the voices until there was darkness.
Giovanni looked down at her in disbelief. She was afraid of him? She called him a murderer?
“She’s in shock. I need you to leave while I examine her.” The doctor said.
“Take her to the ospedale, Gio.” Zia said, at his side. “Take her now. She isn’t well.”
“No. I won’t. It’s not safe.” Giovanni paced, combing his hand back through his hair constantly. “Not until I know for sure what… what happened here, and by who.”
“Let me examine her. We can determine how bad it is. I gave her something to calm her. She’ll rest.”
Before the drug claimed her, her eyes lifted under heavy lids and she looked into his. For a moment there was clarity. It was soon replaced by sadness, regret, and fear. He was right. She was afraid of him. He saw it when she ran for the car, and he heard it in her voice as she shouted he was a murderer. Her long lashes fluttered under her sinking lids and shut. Giovanni leaned in and kissed her bruised, chapped lips. His tears mixed with those now glistening on her puffy red cheeks. He exhaled the deepest sigh of sadness and said a silent prayer that she found a sliver of peace in the tranquilized sleep. It took an inner strength he could barely claim to draw away from her bed. Flavio followed him out.
Lorenzo slumped forward in the chair with his head bowed. Funny, how hysteria could shift from the darkest depths of grief to full on rage. His gaze lifted, but his head didn’t. He tracked Carlo with a steely glare. The boys had relieved him of his gun and knife, but if a man got close enough, any man, he’d snap the motherfucker’s neck. Only Carlo dared be alone with him when he was in this state. Carlo kept pacing in front of him, ready, in case he charged him again. They fought in the room until both of them had bloody noses and knuckles. Lorenzo spat blood on the floor and mumbled curses. He wanted to fight again. Nico and Renaldo waited outside of the door ready to charge in if things between he and his best friend got worse. And they would. He’d make them all pay for caging him like some wild bull. He deserved justice. He deserved… shit! His head dropped lower, and he wept. Fabiana was dead. His beautiful girl, gone, and he’d only had her for such a short time.
I killed her. I did it. My Fabiana is gone.
The doors opened with Giovanni and Flavio stepping through. Lorenzo sat up from his lean and blinked away tears. He smeared the blood and snot from his nose and mouth with the back of his hand across his face and fixed his gaze on his cousin. Giovanni’s tuxedo shirt was covered in sweat, soot, and traces of blood. Blood. He fixated on the blood, then looked down to the back of his hand and stared at the red blood. Red like Fabiana’s hair. Did his woman’s body disintegrate in the explosion? Had she suffered? Were pieces of her blown apart before she knew what happened?
Dominic arrived. His voice broke the tense silence that had fallen over the men. It drew Lorenzo from the trance he’d fallen into. “Flavio, the carabineri want to meet. I told them Giovanni required medical attention from the dottore and could not be interviewed. They are currently interviewing our men and the few family members I selected. Rocco is among them, and Uncle Vito.”
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t join us.” Flavio ordered.
Giovanni went to the shelves of wine bottles in the room. He grabbed one and removed the cork with his teeth. He then paced with the bottle in his hand, never taking a sip. Flavio nodded to Dominic who watched him go and closed the door behind him. Lorenzo closed his eyes and tried to see Fabiana, remember her. She was so vivid in his mind he half expected her to walk into the room. He felt dead inside.
“Porca puttana! A bomb? They planted a bomb in my fucking home!” Giovanni grimaced.
“I spoke to Carmine. The delivery of the car was by one of Marcello’s men, they’ve been known to do work for Gino at times. It was a hit within the Cammora, the Marcello’s are on the side of Angelo Calderone. The Nigerians couldn’t gain this kind of alliance so soon. It has to be Angelo, and from the looks of it he planned the bombing to happen after his visit today.”
Lorenzo wiped his hand down his face and accepted the news he already believed. “How did she die?” his voice croaked.
“The bomb was for you.” Dominic continued. “The women were outside arguing. No one is sure why but Fabiana approached Carmine for the keys and insisted he give her access to your car. She said you okayed it.”
Lorenzo shook his head that he hadn’t.
Dominic nodded. “The argument continued in the car. At some point Mira left the car, but Fabiana remained. One of the boys says he heard the engine turn over right before the explosion. She had to have ignited the bomb when she started the car.”
A thunderous crash exploded in the room. Lorenzo glanced over to see the bottle Giovanni had carried was now smashed to smithereens after colliding with the crimson stained wall. His cousin was on edge too. But no one knew the depths of his pain. His Fabiana was dead and it was as if he’d set a match to her himself. Giovanni ran his hand through his hair that now hung over his brow into his face. He then looked at his cousin and processed the shared hell they found themselves trapped in.
Lorenzo rose slowly.
Giovanni’s vision narrowed and only Lorenzo remained in his sight. “This is the price you pay for betraying our brotherhood, for allowing snakes into our garden.”
“I accept it. I only ask that you grant me one thing. Revenge. I want to do Angelo Calderone myself.”
Dominic threw up his hands and stepped between them. “Wait. We have to first meet with the families. We still have friends in the Cammora.”
“No! No fucking meetings! Did you not see what happened to her?” Lorenzo shouted at Dominic. He returned his gaze to Giovanni. “There isn’t enough of her left to bury. I would gladly die for what has been done to her, but I want justice, revenge!” he choked out.
Giovanni nodded. “Go! Dig up Giuseppe’s stinking corpse and deliver the rot to his mother’s doorstep. Get that bitch Fish is fond of and send him a message as well.”
“There is time to fix this, Gio, to find a way to resolve it peacefully.” Dominic said. “Hear Flavio’s plan first. A meeting with the families for justice. Let the collective decide, and we will know who our allies are.”
“Do as I said. I will make calls to our friends to get you all the manpower you need. I don’t need a fucking meeting to know who our friends are. We’ll have war, but not the one Angelo thinks. And we’ll deal with the Nigerians too.”
Nico and Carlo grunted their agreement. They walked out with Lorenzo.
“Lorenzo is wrong. We don’t need vengeance when we’re so close to legitimizing this family. I know I speak out of turn and Flavio is your consigliere but I think…”
“However I run this fucking family I decide who lives or dies! Not the fucking Calderone’s! I decide what is just and unjust! Not you or Flavio! None of you are to question me! Lorenzo has paid a price for his sins; he lost his woman today. My Bella lost her best friend. They will have vengeance. Angelo is going to die slow for daring to come into my fucking home and challenge me!” Giovanni grabbed a chair and threw it at the wall. “I want them dead. I want everything breathing with the name Calderone dead!”
Dominic turned and walked out.
Giovanni struggled to capture a breath. He staggered over to his desk and sat down on it so consumed with rage his chest felt like a pretzel knot. After a knock on the door, he collected his composure and Dominic escorted the doctor in.
“How is she?”
“Resting?”
“How is she?”
“Nothing internal. She has some bruising from the explosion. Her skin will be raw, but she’ll heal. I’m leaving this.” The doctor passed over some pills. “She is to take one every eight hours, and no more than three a day. They can be addictive. She’s in shock.”
“Grazie.”
Dominic nodded to Giovanni and walked the doctor out. Giovanni stared at the pill bottle in his hand. After minutes of guilt and grief, he gave in to his desperation to see her. He left his outside villa and entered the house from the back once more to not be seen. As the doctor stated, she rested under blankets. His aunts were by her bed. One read from the bible to her.
“Leave,” he said.
The women rose and one by one they came to him offering kisses of encouragement before granting his wish and leaving him with her. Giovanni closed and locked the door. He stepped out of his loafers and walked over to the bed. Easing under the covers with her gently he drew her into his arms and held her against his chest. Her screams and terror overwhelmed him with guilt. He held her tighter than he should and her limp response tore at his gut, burned away his pride. He felt himself on the verge of a meltdown. He came close, too close, to losing this woman. If he had any doubts before they were now gone, she belonged in his heart.
The tears didn’t come, but the self-loathing and doubt did. He needed to make this right, restore order, win her trust and love and keep it. How the hell could he do it all in succession?
****
Two hours later
Mira opened her eyes. She now laid on her side with Giovanni’s arm draped across her middle and his warm body nearly covering her from behind. She felt so small and helpless in his hold. To move would wake him and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to face him or hear his apologies. She didn’t want to listen to him explain how he would make this up to her. What she wanted was her friend.
Unable to cry anymore she remained still looking toward the wall. She could hear Fabiana’s pleas for forgiveness and the bitter refusal she gave her. If she had listened, forgiven, then Fabiana would have left the car too and they would have walked out of Italy together. Her stomach cramped from the unyielding churn of her grief. She should have never gotten involved with a violent man like him. Now, no matter how she felt for him, they would always have Fabiana’s death between them.
The cramping became worse. It wasn’t grief. It was whatever poison they gave her to make her submit. She shifted in his arms, and he sat upright.
“Bella?”
“Don’t call me that,” her voice croaked hoarsely.
“Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”
She pressed her quivering lips together and squeezed her eyes shut to block the sound of his voice from her head and heart.
“Cara, my beautiful cara. Please. Talk to me.”
Opening her eyes she turned. Giovanni only loosened his hold enough for her to turn and look into his face. “Let me go. I want to… to go.”
“No.” He dropped his forehead to hers.
Mira wept and he kissed her tears.
“What do you want from me Giovanni? You’ve taken my heart!”
“Don’t push me away.”
“I can’t be here, anymore!” She moaned.
“You can if you trust me.”
“She’s dead. Do you understand that I lost the only family I have today? She’s my best friend, my only friend, she’s dead!”
“I understand.”
“Then help me. Let me go back to America! I won’t tell anybody what I know. I swear it.”
He lifted and stared down at her with a hard, inquisitive look that made her stomach muscles quiver.
“What is it you think you know, Bella? You called me a murderer. Why?”
She shoved at him and rolled away from him. She cried into her pillow. When he touched her back, she shivered and his hand drew away.
He hated the sounds of her tears, and no matter how desperate he felt he couldn’t comfort her. Giovanni sat up. “I’m not leaving you, Mira, and you’re not leaving me.”
“Go away!” she shouted. He pulled her back over, pinning her to him so she couldn’t run from him. “Cry Bella, scream and shout. You should be angry and I promise you the people who hurt Fabiana will pay for what they robbed you of.” He kissed her eyelids until they closed.
Mira turned her face away. “Pay? What the hell does that mean! You’re going to murder somebody too!”
“Too? Murder? That is the second time you call me a murderer. I did not want the death of your friend!”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t a murderer! Lorenzo is a murderer! I know all about it. It’s why Fabiana died isn’t it? Because of murder!”
Giovanni couldn’t capture a breath to speak. “What was it you and Fabiana discussed? Why were you arguing?”
“Let me go!”
“Bella answer me. What do you think you know?”
“That you don’t love me, you only wanted to use me to get to whatever you needed from my building. That Lorenzo murdered a man named Giuseppe and asked Fabiana to help him cover it up. She was scared. It was the only way she agreed to do what he wanted, what you wanted. You manipulated us both and now my friend is DEAD! Murderer!”
He let her go. She turned away from him again crying hard into her pillow. Stunned he couldn’t bring himself to comfort her. He rose from the bed and walked out.
****
“You did well.” Flavio said to Dominic breaking his train of thoughts.
“Giovanni did not want this meeting. He won’t be happy.”
“A face to face with Don di Petro was necessary. Giovanni is currently distracted by that woman.”
“We have to worry about the press now. How we tell the story of this American woman’s death. We’ve bought some time with talk of peace.”
“It was just talk.” Dominic scoffed. “Right now Lorenzo and Carlo are on their way to Bellagio to dig up Giuseppe Calderone.”
Flavio smirked. “Let them. There will be no war. We can say Lorenzo acted outside of the family, which he has, many times before. When the Calderone’s come for his head, they will have it.”
Dominic frowned, “Giovanni would never allow it. Neither would I. He’s our brother!”
“He’s a fuck up. Imbroglione! He will destroy this family. It is up to us to make sure he does not.”
“I won’t betray Gio and Lorenzo.”
Flavio sighed in the back of the limo. “That’s not what I’m saying. If we bring Giovanni peace and the triangle on a silver platter he will see that war is too costly. Lorenzo’s fate is his own. He acts outside of the family then he must survive the same way. It’s how it’s done. He took an oath and pissed on it when he went behind Giovanni’s back to deal in business with Giuseppe Calderone.”
“Being consigliere doesn’t make you boss, Flavio. Giovanni is the boss of this family, and I would think you should remember that.”
Flavio gave a half smile and continued to look straight ahead as they rocked in the back of the limo. “I don’t want to be boss. My job is tougher than his. And yes it’s unfortunate that the Fabiana woman died. It will be messy to handle with the authorities. That is the price we pay for the life we choose.” Flavio said hollowly. “You would be wise to remember everything you’ve seen today. Love is a luxury that men like ourselves can’t afford. It makes you weak.”
“Bullshit, how are we to have sons if we don’t have women.”
Flavio chuckled. “By all means take a bride. I love pussy too. Just never love her more than you love the family. Even Lo understands this. Do you think he gives a shit that the red-haired woman is dead, or is he angrier over the insult? Giovanni, is too much like his father, his downfall will be the love of a woman. Tomosino fell for a red-haired Irish woman that had no place in our world. And his son?” Flavio scoffed in disgust. “That woman should have never been brought here.”
Dominic fully understood the reasoning Flavio used and it was one of the reasons why he let Catalina go. She was in his heart, a part of his soul, but their love was forbidden. Blood or not she was his surrogate sister, and the lines they crossed would stain his soul. He could go forward without another love. Falling for Catalina had made him weak. Had cost her her innocence and robbed her new husband the right to be her first lover. His shame burned deep. Men like them were not to be in love.
“The Nigerians. Giovanni thinks we’re arranging the meeting. We are. We have. I’ve set it up for a small inn near Mt. Vesuvius. You will accompany him.”
“Where will you be?” Dominic asked.
Flavio didn’t answer. Dominic didn’t question him further.
****
Mira listened to him shower. He had returned only ten minutes after she hurled the must hurtful accusations at him. And the worst of it was he denied nothing. She glanced over to the food he had brought up. A plate stacked with leftovers from the wedding, including cakes and pies. She cut her gaze away. Her heart ached. It was a physical pain that left her weak and disoriented. When he walked out of the shower, he seemed surprised to see her sitting up.
He had changed clothes. Was he leaving? Good. Go. She didn’t need him. Still her heart raced at warp speed over the thought of being left alone.
“I won’t be gone long,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “One meeting and I’ll be here, with you.”
She eased the covers aside, and stood with her hands clenched into fists. “Go. Go and never come back!”
A slow smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “You’re feeling better. Giving me orders.”
She charged at him, flew across the room. He watched her and caught her arms by the wrists. She struggled to break loose, but he held her with little effort, staring down at her. Finally she gave up the struggle and she was able to snatch her wrists free. She glared. Standing on her own two feet she swayed a bit but the nausea passed.
“Lie down. Eat. Gather your strength, and then we will talk.”
She opened her mouth to insult him again, but the soft look of love and concern stalled her thoughts. Defeated, she heaved a sigh. Her gaze again switched to the tray of food. Her stomach clenched with hunger, and her mouth watered. He started to button his shirt, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. Even when she looked away, she felt the heat in his stare. He had no intentions of letting her go, and it dawned on her she had nothing to go to. Her condo in New York was one she shared with Fabiana. To return there alone would be devastating. And Italy had not yet become home. Odd as it sounded this room, his bed, all of it felt like home. Her gaze lifted and she took a step back, but his touch to the side of her face stopped her retreat.
“You are feeling better. Aren’t you? Shall we talk now?”
She nodded.
“I love you,” he said. She shook her head in disbelief, but the words didn’t come. He smiled and kissed her gently on the lips. “I never lied to you about my feelings.”
“Why… why did you use us? Bring us here?”
He sighed. “I was weak. I didn’t want to let you go. I should have in Bellagio, but I couldn’t.”
“I was weak too. I knew what you were, what you did. Fabiana and I both knew. I shouldn’t have trusted this thing with us. I just… I couldn’t help it.”
“We are the same. Weak. Lovers. Friends?” He nodded.
She went over to him stiffly and his arms opened naturally to welcome her. She held to him. Despite it all, she loved him, needed him. His embrace felt as if she was cradled in his arms. It covered her with warmth and security. She would believe the lies if she could just hold on to this feeling. Finally, since the nightmare began, she felt as if she could breathe. They didn’t speak. There were no words. She just needed to feel that what they shared wasn’t going to evaporate, too.
He stroked her back.
She rubbed the side of her face against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and held her.
“Please forgive me, Bella. Can you try?”
She nodded that she would. Her head went back, and she managed to look him in the eye.
He kissed her brow. “Flavio will be here to see after you. I promise not to be long. I swear it. And then I will take you from here.”
“She’s dead… Don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.”
He lifted her in his arms, and she held to his neck. He walked away from the bed to the large sofa chair and lowered into it awkwardly while holding her. Mira curled up on his lap. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled the strong woodsy cologne on his skin and felt safe in his strong arms. She’d never been so afraid of herself and someone else in her life. When she was with him, she was weak. She should blame him, try to escape him, but now all she wanted was for him to remain with her. “I don’t know if I can ever leave this room, without you, I can’t take it. Life without her, I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”
He didn’t answer. They sat in silence for a long comfortable time. He just held her and protected her. Soon the drugs in her system made the lethargy return. Her head felt heavy. She felt as if she was weightless and knew he was returning her to bed.
“Don’t…. go. No more. Don’t do it.”
“Rest. I’m not what you think I am. I promise to come back.”
“Don’t!” she grabbed his arm and clawed at him trying to hook her hand around his neck to bring him down in bed with her. “Don’t! They’ll kill you too. That’s what they want right? To kill us all? Right? It’s how it works.”
“Bella…”
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” she beat her fist against his chest. He pinned her down to the bed. She screamed out of frustration. He had no choice but to come into bed with her. To bring her into his arms and hold her. She relaxed and settled into his embrace. Tears streamed but the panic in her chest lessened.
“Stay,” she said as she began to drift.
“I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
The last of her strength slipped and she eased back into sleep.
****
Mira woke from a touch to her shoulder. “Giovanni?”
Confused she blinked twice to see the face clearly. Flavio stood over her bed. His face was stern, almost a scowl. His grey eyes were polarizing. Surprised, she scooted away drawing the sheet up close to her.
“Signorina, you will need to get dressed. Now.”
“Why are you in here? Get out.”
“I have unfortunate news.”
“Is it Giovanni?” She sat upright. “Is he hurt?”
“He sent me. You have to leave. You aren’t safe here.”
“What? He said he wouldn’t leave me. Where is he?”
“Gone. You must get dressed while you still can. Take what you can, and we will send your things. There is a plane waiting for you in Napoli.”
“You’re a damn liar!! He wouldn’t break up with me through you! Not after my friend died today, not after… everything. He wouldn’t!” she shouted at him.
Flavio yanked the coverlet off her, and she swung and hit him in his face with her fist. The rage in his eyes made her quickly scoot away, almost scramble. She got out on the other side of the bed ready to defend herself if it came to it.
He sneered at her. “Puttana! He doesn’t care for you or that tramp who died today. You put on clothes and be ready to leave now or I’ll drag you out of here as you are.”
“NO! Giovanni!” Mira ran for the door. Flavio had to have anticipated her actions because he caught her and dragged her back from it. The door opened and a young man looked in, shocked. Flavio shouted something to him in Italian, and the young man closed the door. He then grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the shut door. Mira blinked from the force of his actions and the dull ache that cut through her skull.
“Listen to me. Run, scream, make this difficult in any way and I will shut you up. Permanently!”
Mira shook her head sadly at him. Flavio let her go, and she gasped for air, moving quickly out his reach, her hand to her throat. He yanked open the door and stormed out of the room. Putting her hands to her face, she cried once more.
****
The caravan of cars that moved along the country road began to slow down as all the vehicles one by one extinguished their lights. Giovanni clenched and unclenched his fist staring out into the night. His heart hammered in his chest, his throat felt dry as sandpaper, and his eyes watered from the constant strain of not-blinking. “Where are the Nigerians?” he asked.
“They will be here.” Dominic ended the call. “We just need to wait.”
“And Don di Petro’s men?” Giovanni’s gaze swept the forested trees. The single road that drove up to the inn was free of cars. If the Don had sent his men they would be on foot, in the dark, and ready with his men.
“They’re out there.” He ended the phone call he was on and set the receiver back in the phone box situated in the middle of a leather console between the men. “Carlo confirms that Giuseppe’s rotting corpse was delivered to the Don’s wife.”
“Bene.” Still Giovanni couldn’t relax. He needed to get back to his Bella, to be there when she woke again. He remembered her holding him, how she pleaded for him not to go. Right now she was confused, the dottore said it was shock. Giovanni knew it was far worse. He suffered the same grief after watching his father gunned down in front of him. That kind of pain changes a person. He would do everything in his power to take the pain and fear from his Bella’s heart.
“Gio, there’s something you should know.”
“What is it?” he mumbled, and continued to stare out of the window.
“While you were tending to your woman, Flavio and I paid Don di Petro a visit on your behalf.”
Giovanni’s gaze swung to Dominic. “I said there would be no meeting. I made a call to the Don.”
“And we paid a visit to ensure that he would adhere to your request. In exchange we vowed there would be no war between the Cammora and Ndgrangheta.”
Dominic now commanded Giovanni’s undivided attention. He specifically gave an order. Why would his consigliere and under boss both defy it so openly? “Are you saying you went against my wishes?”
Dominic nodded. “Flavio is convinced that peace is the best way and that you are distracted. He also believes it’s because of your woman, the American.”
“Well you both are wrong. And I will deal with Flavio when I return.”
“He’s going to sacrifice Lorenzo. I think he’s going to counsel you to cut him loose. With him in Genoa now dumping Giuseppe’s body, I’m worried it might be a trap.”
Giovanni cut his eyes back to the window. He’d deal with Flavio, Lorenzo, all of it later. One fuck up at a time. Six cars arrived in the night. The bastards who dared interfere with his product from the Irish were filing in one after another. Several got out of their cars. A cold dark wave of satisfaction moved over Giovanni. He leaned forward and squinted, counting the men present. The one named Enu emerged last. Dominic made sure to point him out to Giovanni. Even under the silver glow of the moon, he could see they were armed.
The doors to the inn opened and three men from Giovanni’s family walked out. They spoke to the Nigerians who didn’t understand the greeting. And then it happened. Men from every direction of the forest stepped out firing, as did the men on the front steps of the inn. Bullet spray and cannon blasts from all the guns firing at once reminded him of a fireworks display. It only took three minutes for the Nigerians to lie dead in the streets. He relaxed in his seat and Dominic told the driver to take them down out of the valley to the inn.
“I want to see Flavio, now.”
****
Mira struggled to process her grief, anger, and heartbreak over a single thought. She had her purse and passport but not much else. Each time she tried to put clothes in a bag she broke down in tears. Finally giving up she went out of the room with a guard on her heels heading to Fabiana’s room. Opening the door she immediately smelled her perfume. Mira covered her mouth as the image of Fabiana standing in front of her wearing that damn yellow dress she hated, twirling around tauntingly, came into view then faded.
Laughter surfaced as she recalled Fabiana teasing her about the dress. For years she put her best friend in her best designs, and the day of her death she wore that monstrosity. The humor drained from Mira’s lips. She glanced around the room at Fabiana’s things. Seeing her cosmetic bag open on top of the vanity, she smiled weakly. Going over she stuck her hand inside, moving around the multiple lipsticks and glosses. She was reminded of how Fabiana fussed over her makeup and hair whenever they had a show. “You always kept us together,” she mumbled.
Flavio stepped into the room behind her. She could feel his presence. “The car is ready for you.”
Mira looked over at him, “I want her things sent to me, and her body, if there is a body,” she said weakly.
“Of course, I’ll contact you shortly after you land to arrange it. The press has made calls. They are trying to reach you for a comment.” He stood under the door glaring at her. “We will discuss how you will share with the world this unfortunate accident.”
Mira picked up Fabiana’s purse, stepping away from the vanity. Dressed now in jeans and a t-shirt with a bruised face and heart, she nodded in agreement with Flavio’s demands. She cared nothing about her appearance and only wanted to get away from this place and the heartache she felt over Giovanni using his attack dog on her. For abandoning her.
Fish had backed his Vespa up a hill under the dense cover of trees outside of the Battaglia villa. Even the patrols were not able to see him from this distance. He scanned the front of the estate with night binoculars. The American woman that they learned was staying at the compound was escorted into a car. Smiling he lowered the binoculars. Angelo anticipated that Giovanni would send the other bitch to America after the botched attempt to kill Lorenzo blew up the redhead. It was Fish’s mission to follow and take her out. This he did willingly. They made a big mistake taking Maria. Neither he nor Angelo could agree on much, but Maria’s life and safety was one of the few.
He’d blow up the fucking universe to have her back.
Fish started his Vespa. He bristled at the low rumble the bike made. Hopefully no one was close enough to hear. He put up his binoculars and removed his gun just in case. He wanted to kill the Battaglia bitch Catalina and her new husband. Angelo was against it. Taking out Lorenzo Battaglia was a gem Fish had to agree was far better. Now the women presented an even greater opportunity. Apparently they were well known in America. The deaths of them both would bring plenty unwanted media attention to the Battaglia’s and cripple the family’s prestige in the Republic. Breaking them from within would then make the families in the Cammora loyal to Calderone. Yes. This was a better plan.
****
Giovanni stepped out of the car. The air was tinged with sulfur and the bitter smell of blood. The men had shredded the Nigerians and most of them were unrecognizable bloody heaps. However Enu, the leader, lie on his back very much alive. He wheezed with a chest full of holes. How the fucker remained alive was a mystery. Giovanni glanced up at Dominic and his underboss nodded. He removed his piece and fired directly into the man’s skull ending the man once and for all.
****
Mira fastened her seatbelt and reclined back in her airplane seat. Flavio had been specific. Fabiana died in a terrible fireworks accident behind the walls of Melanzana. The explosion came after the celebratory party for seeing Catalina off to her honeymoon. A ridiculous story she was sure she could never adhere to, but nonetheless she agreed. In fact the Italian media had already reported Flavio’s version of events and the press in the United States were running with it.
This was all she was left with. The sweet promises she and Giovanni had made to each other had evaporated. Three weeks and her life was in shambles. The plane began to taxi down the runway, and she closed her eyes. Maybe when this was all over he’d come back to her. Maybe he’d leave this madness behind and come for her. Bursting into tears she shook her head sadly. The truth was there were no maybes. This was the end.