Chapter 21

 

Michael

 

“Marry me, Zaira. Make me the happiest man in the world and agree to become my wife,” I say to her as I nuzzle her awake.

“Michael.” She moans. Obviously she doesn’t like to be woken up.

I nuzzle her again. “Marry me, babe.”

Her eyes open wide, and she looks at me stunned. “Michael, be serious. I’m already marrying you.”

“Humor me, Zaira. Pretend we’re not engaged. Pretend we’ve known each other all our lives and that we are in love,” I reply.

“Michael, I don’t have to pretend. I know we’ve known each other all our lives, and I know we are in love.”

“Just tell me you’ll marry me.” I’m persistent. If we can move forward from now, then our engagement won’t be a lie anymore. I will have proposed, and she will have said yes.

She stretches up and places her nose right behind my ear as she whispers to me, “Yes, Michael. I’ll marry you.” Her words make my heart explode with happiness. She is gonna be my wife. She said yes.

“Let’s get married right away. We could go to Vegas.”

“Michael, what’s wrong with you? Why all of a sudden do we need to rush this?” she asks.

“Because, Zaira, why should we wait another minute to be together like this all the time? Haven’t we waited long enough?”

She turns to lie on her side so she’s completely facing me, and I can tell by the look in her eyes that she knows I’m right. “Okay, Vegas it is.”

“I have something for you.” I turn to the nightstand and open the drawer. After pulling out a small box, I hand it to her. “I don’t have a ring yet, but I want you to have this.”

She opens the box, and her eyes sparkle as she takes the delicate silver-and-turquoise bracelet from the box. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“Michael, it’s beautiful,” she says with tears in her eyes.

As she puts on the bracelet, I pull her close. “You’ve made me the happiest man, Zaira.” I swat at her behind. “You better get up. You have a Vegas wedding to plan.”

“Holy shit.” She jumps, and the covers dropping from her body expose her bare breasts. I lean down and suckle, and she moans. “Well, the planning can wait a little while.” She giggles as I pull her into my arms.

 

***

 

Waking up in Zaira’s arms was unlike anything I have ever known. I’ve always believed she was the right woman for me, and after last night, I know it’s a fact. No other woman completes me like she does. She is my match in every way.

I’ve been working for hours, which is hours away from Zaira, and already I’m pussy-whipped. I’ve got some serious shit to deal with, like taking Carmine and Armino down, and I can’t let Zaira get in the way. I need to focus.

I’ve been waiting to hear from Ricco. They had a lead on Carmine and Armino this morning, and hopefully—if all went well—they’ll be bringing them in. I walk to the door and open it. Ricco is standing at his post, and I see Marco walking toward us.

“We got ’em, Michael,” Marco says proudly.

“Are they alive?” I ask.

“Yep, and they’re in the watershed on the compound.” He smirks and then says, “Waiting for you.”

Well, life just doesn’t get any better than this. I turn toward Ricco. “Call Vince. Tell him we’ve got his boys.”

“Will do,” he says.

“Tell him he has one hour to get here if he wants to talk to them at all. ’Cause after I’m done with them and right before I kill them, I doubt they will have much to say.”

Ricco nods and pulls out his phone. He steps away to dial Vince. I turn back into my office, Marco following behind.

“Where’s Pop?” I ask him.

“He’s with your mom,” Marco says.

“Where? Shouldn’t you be with them?” I ask.

“Well, yeah I should, but Domenic shooed me away.”

“He what?”

Marco chuckles. “He wanted some alone time with your mom. I swear your parents have turned into a pair of lovesick teenagers.”

I hold my hands up to my ears. “Ahh… Don’t tell me any more.”

Marco continues to laugh. I can’t help but laugh too. It’s just so weird seeing my parents like this. I guess they are making up for lost time. Pop spent so many years working on making the family what it is today, I guess he and Mom never got the chance to just be in love.

Ricco comes in and asks, “What’s so funny?”

Marco shakes his head and says, “Nothing, man.” He looks at me, and I nod. I don’t need him to be sharing my parents’ business with everyone on staff, even if it is Ricco.

“Whatever,” Ricco says. “Vince is on his way. He says he wants you to take the lead on this, but he wants to tell those fuckers face-to-face that he gave the order for the hit and it was not initiated by the Vitalis.” He pauses and turns toward Marco. “Some of us still work around here,” he says smartly, causing Marco to laugh even more.

Forty-five minutes later, Vince is at my office and we’re ready to head to the watershed. The property really doesn’t have a real watershed—well, not anymore. It was a real watershed, but years before I was born—actually, I think it might have been my grandfather—had it converted into a torture chamber. It is where we take those who have crossed the family to interrogate them. And believe me, these interrogations are not for the weak at heart. They’re menacing and brutal, and many times afterward, I question my humanity.

It’s the ultimate price for going against my family in any way.

When we get outside, there are three golf carts parked in the driveway waiting for us. Vince, Ricco, and I get in the first one, and Gio and his men follow in the other two. I told Marco to stick around the house. Pop may be indisposed, and the threat may have been captured, but I still want Marco and his men at the house for backup, just in case.

Ricco, taking the lead, drives down to the watershed. As most watersheds go, this one is much bigger than you would expect. My grandfather had it built so that he could encompass more people and devices inside. We still call it a watershed, but in all actuality, it’s a small house.

Ricco opens the door, and the pleasure of seeing Armino and Carmine standing in the center of the room, far enough apart, and with their arms suspended in the air by heavy-duty chains is immensely satisfying. The chain retracts and is strong enough to hold close to a thousand pounds. Right now, their feet are flat on the floor, but with one push of a button, I can change that.

Back in my grandfather’s day, the art of interrogating someone was drastically different than the methods Pop and I use. Basically, the watershed is intimidating enough that all the devices my grandfather had placed in here serve their purpose without ever being used.

First off, the most familiar piece in the room is the rack. This device dates back to medieval times and was designed to dislocate every joint in a human body. It is believed to be the most painful form of medieval torture. It has a wooden frame with two ropes fixed to the bottom and two more to the top, all of which are used to bind the victim’s hands and feet. As the handle on the end gets turned, the victim is stretched until their limbs are dislocated. I believe in many cases, even after the limbs were dislocated, the handle was still turned, thus completely tearing the limbs from the body.

To the right of the rack is the wall of torture. Well, that’s what we call it. Hanging on display, we have rope, whips, heavy-duty pliers, Tasers, a drill, an over-sized pair of scissors, and a Heretic’s fork. It’s pretty obvious what most of these items are used for, such as de-nailing, tongue ripping, and drilling. The fork is a metal device with two opposed bi-pronged forks attached to a belt. One end of the fork is pushed under the chin, and the other is pushed against the sternum, with the strap securing it to the victim’s neck. The victim is then suspended from the ceiling and hung so that they can’t sleep, knowing if their head drooped, their throat and chest would be pierced.

We’ve never had to use any of those items on the wall—nor the rack—but they sure have worked to intimidate just about anyone who has been brought in here. On the other side of the room is the Sicilian Bull, the family’s most intimidating and prized torture device.

The bull is a device designed by the ancient Greeks. It’s a simple concept of torture but offered one of the most diabolical executions. It was made entirely from bronze and is the same shape and size of an actual bull, housing a hollow chamber in the belly of its body. The victim is locked inside of the chamber. A fire pit is set underneath the belly of the bull, heating it until the victim inside roasts to death.

As if the bull wasn’t brutal enough, it was also designed to channel the screams of the victim through a series of pipes and out a set of holes on the bull’s face. The gruesome acoustic apparatus transforms the desperate screams so that they sound like a bull’s bellowing. I can’t even begin to imagine. We’ve never used it during my lifetime.

But like I said, these items are mostly for show. Walking into a room like this can make even the most loyal rat talk. And it’s what I am about to get from the two fuckers who are hanging from the ceiling.

“Gentlemen,” I say when I walk into the room.

They both look up and see my boys and me walking toward them. When Vince walks in, I truly see panic in their eyes. Although they fear my family and me—after all, we were the ones they tried to kill—they are still members of Vince’s family. Their actions, organizing a hit without their Don’s approval, well, just doesn’t sit well in our world.

“Carmine, Armino,” Vince says. “Isn’t this a surprise seeing you both here?” Vince pulls a chair up and places it right in front of the two hanging men. “Michael and I want to have a chat with you.” He sits. I have to say, I’ve never seen Vince like this. He’s usually the quiet one, but perhaps he’s learned more from his father than I thought. I’m not complaining. It’s usually good to have a good-guy–bad-guy routine working for you in situations like this.

I grab a chair and place it next to Vince and sit down. “You boys comfortable?” I ask, just to be a dick.

They both stare at us, not saying a word.

“So this is how it’s gonna go. Vince and I are gonna ask you some questions, and you boys are gonna give us honest answers. If you don’t”—I look around the room—“as you can see, we have many ways to ensure you do. Understood?”

They both nod hesitantly but don’t speak.

“Carmine,” I say, addressing him because he is the lead guy between these two. “Who ordered the hit on my family?”

He shakes his head.

“Now, Carmine, you know it’s in your best interest to give me an answer.”

“Why the fuck should I? You’re gonna kill us either way,” he blurts out.

“Yes, I am,” I say with a nod. “But your cooperation can warrant you a less painful death. I mean really, wouldn’t it be better to just get shot in the head? It would be so quick and relatively painless—well, I would think since you would die so quickly. Or if you want to be difficult, there is always the bull, which will be slow and extremely painful.” I pause. “I’m not a bad guy, Carmine. I’ll give you a choice.”

“Fuck you!” He spits.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say. I turn toward Ricco. “I think we’ll try the fork.”

Ricco smirks and walks to the wall. After taking the Heretic’s fork down, he walks toward Carmine. Carmine turns white as a ghost when he realizes what’s about to happen to him. This is usually the point where they cave, and just as I suspected, Carmine is right on cue.

“Okay, okay! I did!”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” I ask. I think the rest of this interrogation is going to go a lot smoother. “Now tell me, why?”

He hesitates, and Ricco takes a couple steps closer. Catching him out of the corner of his eyes, Carmine quickly says, “The Vitalis killed Alberto and Victor. It was retaliation.”

“But wasn’t it my place, as Alberto’s son, to order a retaliation?” Vince asks.

“We couldn’t involve you,” Carmine replies.

Armino is silent, but he really isn’t the brain here. He’s the muscle. He’s better off just keeping his mouth shut anyway.

“My father was murdered along with his underboss. I was next in line to take over the family, and you couldn’t involve me?” Vince asks.

“You don’t understand, Vince. We were following your pop’s orders,” Carmine says.

“What?” Vince asks. I’m realizing there is more here than what we anticipated. This goes deeper than just a retaliation hit.

“We promised your pop we would never tell you. I can’t break my promise,” he says. Oh fuck, now I’m really intrigued, as is Vince.

He gets up from his chair and paces in front of it. “My father is dead. You know why he’s dead? Do you have any idea who ordered the hit on his life?”

“The Vitalis did. We know that, and you should know it too,” he yells. “They’re scum and have been a thorn in the Bonita family for years.”

Vince takes the wooden chair he was sitting on and throws it at Carmine’s head. It really doesn’t do any damage, but I think it was more to prove a point. “I ordered the fucking hit on my father and Victor. I enlisted the help of Michael and his family!” Vince yells.

The shock and surprise on both of their faces show me they truly believed my family were the ones who initiated it. It’s clear they never suspected Vince. Vince is upset. This is not usually his role in the family, and I can tell he’s not enjoying this. I get up from my chair and move it out of the way.

He walks over to me and talks low. “You gotta take over here. I’m done with these assholes.”

I nod and walk toward Carmine. “Now that we have established who did what, let me ask you: What was Vince not to be told?” His remark earlier piqued my curiosity. Now, I want answers, before he’s dead and it’s too late.

“Aw man, we told Alberto we’d take it to the grave,” Carmine says. “Come on, Michael, don’t make us break that. We were loyal to Alberto and the family. Everything we’ve done has been out of loyalty to our Don.”

I shake my head and turn toward Ricco. “Prepare the bull.” It’s all I have to say, and Carmine squirms again.

Ricco walks to the bull and opens the door.

“Fine!” Carmine yells.

“Start talking,” I say.

“Six years ago, Armino and I were privy to a conversation with Alberto and Victor. The plan was to make a hit and transfer blame, causing a division. Once the division was made, Vince would be cast aside, and Victor could take over as Don, sealing the deal with his marriage to Zaira.”

He didn’t have to tell me any more. I knew exactly what he was talking about. Maria. I always believed Victor was the one who ordered that hit. Never in a million years did I think Alberto would be capable of something like that. Yeah, he was a bastard, but to murder his wife? My stomach recoils as I try to keep bile down.

I look at Vince, and I can’t tell if he is actually picking up on what Carmine is saying. “Who was supposed to be hit?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Michael, please.” Carmine pleads looking over at Vince.

I knew it. I’m fucking right. “Who was supposed to be hit, Carmine?”

Lowing his head in defeat, he says, “Maria Bonita.”

Vince turns to face Carmine and stands there in shock at his words. “What?” he asks, horrified.

“The hit was on your mother,” Carmine says.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Honest. Your pop knew the only thing that would tear the two families apart would be a betrayal like that. They thought about one of the girls, but he had plans for Zaira, and Mia was so young. He ordered us to kill Maria. Then his plan was to blame it on the Vitalis, causing a feud between the two families.”

“But why?” Vince asks.

“Because of Zaira. Her marriage to Michael, which had been planned for years, would bind the two families together forever. Maria wanted that. Alberto didn’t. He despised Domenic and hated Michael even more. He called Michael the Golden Boy and swore he and Zaira would never marry. The last thing he wanted was to be under Domenic’s thumb. The Vitalis are stronger, and he knew his family would get swallowed up.”

“Go on,” Vince says.

“Alberto never thought you could take over the family. He thought you were weak, unlike him. He wanted Victor, so they came up with this plan, and Armino and I executed it. Victor got the family and demanded Zaira. Alberto agreed, and the plan was put into motion. The ultimate goal: destroy the Vitali family.”

“Fuck!” Vince says. “So you’re telling me my father had my mother killed, all for power?”

“That about sums it up,” Carmine says.

I walk toward Vince and speak low. “You okay, man?”

“I need to get out of here,” he replies. “You got this?”

“Oh, fuck yea, I got this. You won’t have to worry about these two again,” I say.

I’m blown away by everything Carmine just told us. I’m finding it hard to believe Alberto would have his own wife and mother of his children murdered, but he did. That sick son of a bitch had his wife killed, pushed the blame on my family, and sold his daughter in marriage to a sadistic fuck. Immediately, my thoughts go to Zaira. How do I tell her that her father took her mother away? How do I explain all of this to her without breaking her heart?

I turn back toward Carmine. “Anything else you should tell me?”

“You’ll want to bring Vinnie and Leo in. They’re working for us,” he says defeated.

“What about Gino? Was he privy to any of this?” I ask.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Anything else?”

“Michael, have mercy. We were only following orders,” Carmine says.

“That reminds me, why the hit on my family? You never really explained.”

“It was Alberto’s contingency plan. He told us that if he was murdered, the Vitalis would be responsible. He had ordered us to hit your family before he died. He was so jealous of your father and the respect he got from everyone, including the other families, that jealousy turned to pure hatred.”

I am done. I turn away. “Ricco, take care of Vinnie and Leo.”

Ricco nods.

I walk to the door, open it, and call back to him, “And take the fucking trash out.” After walking through the door, I slam it behind me. I get into the golf cart to head back toward the house, and the deafening sound of gunfire rings out.

When I get back to the house, I immediately look for Zaira. I find her with her brother on the back veranda. Oh fuck, I hope he didn’t tell her about Carmine.

When I approach, she is talking about a wedding and Vegas and is begging him to be there and give her away. The smile on her face is infectious, and the sparkle in her eyes tells me she is truly happy.

“Can Mia come too?” she asks Vince.

“Of course, love. Of course.” He is trying so hard to put on a happy face, but I know he is ripped to shreds inside.

After walking up to Zaira and kissing her on the cheek, I say, “Hello, beautiful.”

She smiles at me, and that smile alone makes all the bad I just experienced melt away. I need to get lost in her.

“Can I steal your brother away?” I ask.

“Of course. He’s been quite a trooper, allowing me to ramble on about our Vegas wedding.” She gets up from the table. “I’ll leave you two to have some privacy.” She goes to her brother and kisses him on the cheek. “It was good seeing you.” Then she looks up at me and asks, “Will I see you later?”

“Count on it,” I say and wink at her.

She smiles again. After giving Vince a quick hug, she turns and walks away.

“She really is happy, isn’t she?” Vince asks.

“It would appear so,” I say. “Sorry for not giving you a warning about the Vegas shit. I wanted to, but then all this shit happened, and I didn’t get a chance. But now that the threat is over, and Carmine and Armino have been dealt with, it’s safe for us to move on with our lives.”

“It’s all right. Michael, I’ve always known my sister loved you. You were always her choice, even after my mother was murdered. She went along with my father because if she didn’t, she’d suffer the consequences. I don’t think she ever really believed your family was involved. And now, we know the truth.”

“Are you okay?” I ask. “That was a lot of shit down there.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s a lot to take in. At least I am sure of one thing,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“I no longer feel any guilt in having that sick bastard killed.”

“Amen to that,” I reply.

“So you took care of them?” he asks.

“Yeah, they’re dead. When I asked if they had more to confess, they fingered Leo and Vinnie. Ricco is taking care of them as well.

“What about the two bodies they found on your property?”

“He didn’t say anything about them. I assume they were expendable, considering coming here would have been a suicide mission. They weren’t gonna risk themselves getting caught.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” He pauses. “Thank you,” he says. “You know, Pop was right about one thing. I don’t have it in me to run my family. I’m not like him and so fucking thankful for it.”

“I always knew you weren’t. We’ve been friends a long time, Vince. I know I can be a dick, but you’ve always remained my friend. I’ll always take care of your family, and you know I’ll love and cherish your sister until the day I die.”

“I know you will. You’re a good man. So when are we going to Vegas?” he asks.

I laugh. “That is entirely up to your sister.”