by Frank, S. W.
‘A troubled man is who I am when I glimpse my reflection,
Pain’s an unwelcome guest and anger its companion,
This is my loveless and utterly troublesome life,
Yet, what other life is there beyond this wretched one?
A troublesome life without HER is all I know.’
-Alfonzo’s woe
Copyright 2012 S.W.Frank
Published on amazon.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system in any form without prior written permission of the author.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and events portrayed in this story are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
This novel is dedicated to my inner circle of steadfast readers on facebook. Tiffany E. (awesome woman), Lucie C.(the hold-out), Allyson K.(slick-smart lady), Christi P., (love the music vids), Nicole J. (my male pix lady), Kim C. (who jumped right in), Ethel A. (you were there from the beginning, yes, I see you), Asia T. (Geo lover), Lamia A. (love your pix from Milan), Nikki S., Krystal G., Tai T., Kristen A., Yolanda, Harrietta P., Natisha, Evelyn, Crystal J. Crystal W., Lacy, Emily, Bella, Shinita, Funke I., Jennifer, Sammantha, Ruby, Ayisha, Creasy, Tanya, Roxanne, Geovonna (darn I love that name), Gianluca, Renee, Janice, Nashito, Fantasia, Toia, Rennessa, Cherrye, Keily, Gail, Author Dianne Simmons, Kachetta, Keandrea, Chance, Nicholas, Ashley. Orjay, Paige, Drake, John and everyone who comes in to voice their opinion and share their thoughts. This is truly an interactive, fun and personal group, which I enjoy immensely. You are breaths of inspiration.
To an Author Treasure Blue, a sincere thanks for your encouragement. Thanks to all the members of the ARC Book Club. Special thanks to English Ruler, Sistar Tea, Rachel and those who are always there with kind and inspiring words. It’s such a great place to go and just be.
To the new friends, supporters and book clubs, such as B.R.A.B., and its founder Sharon B. (very nice woman I’m glad I met) and anyone who has stumbled into Alfonzo’s world and have decided to stay for the journey, I am glad.
Of course, I dedicate this edition to my family. You’re everything. You are unflinching; you have always believed.
–Umwah!
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Prologue
Kaohsiung City, Taiwan. Five months earlier.
Yei jogged through the street, her camera swinging from the cloth strap which begun to chafe her neck like sandpaper. She needed to get this picture of the beautiful dragon boats floating down Love River during the Kaohsiung Lantern Festival for next week’s article in Perji magazine.
Glory Pier was bustling with people, holding delicate lanterns in celebration of the fifth day of the Lunar Year. The Lantern Festival was a major gala for the Chinese. It began with the rite of ‘Sending the Kitchen God Off to the Heavens’ and ended with the Lantern Festival. This was a staunch tradition practiced since ancient times and meant to promote community. A time for all members of society to acknowledge the bonds they share. And on this night, the lights from the lanterns glowed and the people smiled. They were happy to observe glowing imitation dragons floating down the river and found symbolism in the glorious sight. Yei, laughed at how gullible people were.
Dragon motifs were everywhere. They decorated the pier and to everyone else it was a beautiful sight. Members of society unified, watching decorated boats. She laughed, such B-S!
Yei came today on assignment. This was work and it paid the bills for her family. There were no faeries dancing around in her head. The poor were hungry and the rich threw food in the trash. Unity, there’s no unity in any society and anyone who dares believe there is have faerie dust for brains. She found strife, poverty, greed, abuse and oppression exists everywhere in the world. If, unity were real then why did it cower and fail to calibrate the balance of inequality? True unity is an unbroken bond; unshakeable and stands together against anything which threatens to sever it. Unity would not allow atrocities to occur to its brethren and pretend not to see. For Yei, unity meant self and spirit. They cannot be separated.
She found an opening as a flotilla of dragon boats sailed down the river, casting light over the dark waters. The waves from the moving boats rocked then folded into the depths to sit calmly, waiting to be shifted by the currents beneath.
Yei snapped the photo, and skipped down the pier to get another shot from a different angle, almost tripping over a young boy sitting on the ground as his parents pointed at the colorful lights, admiring its beauty. The cultural indoctrination had begun. The boy would believe. He’d grow to believe he is the smartest, the most studious among all people. He will go throughout life believing this and judging others he has not met. He will be told he is superior and all others are undisciplined. Yet, he will not question or seek truth. He believes what he is told because he does not think for himself. His brain is fed bias and traditions that he will eat for sustenance. He will marry a particular woman because his parents would accept no other. He will be unhappy, but refuse to offend his elders. His life will not be his own. Then, one day, he may travel and everything he believed will be challenged. He will find there are others equally smart and smarter. The color of their skin will be darker and they will know many languages, including Chinese. He will fall in love and will be happy for the first time in his life and he will no longer see the world through the misinformation or propaganda spread by others. He will be a free thinker and realize he isn’t any more special than others around the world. Then, he will have gained wisdom. He will be unique; he is awake when others sleep. Faerie dust does not dance there.
She smirked and moved further east where earlier she’d seen a woman with a bright orange lantern and a cigarette. She watched the festivities from a secluded spot away from the large crowds; her cigarette and her lantern. Yei thought, the lantern woman’s location seemed a fitting place to rest and get a smoke.
She found the desolate area where she’d seen the woman with the lantern. The woman was still there, smoking. Yei, smiled at her because what she believed to have been a tobacco cigarette had an odor of marijuana. Again, everything we believe is not necessarily true. The eyes are deceptive; sometimes we must clean the lens or strip the film away to see the cobwebs in the corner of the room.
The woman leaned against the wood railing watching the festivities with a bored expression. Yei, understood the feeling. The pomp and circumstance over the Lantern Festival had lost its luster the moment she became a free thinker. Lanterns were regarded as auspicious for pregnancy. Watching the lantern display carries a similar meaning. In modern times the practice has gradually changed. It’s quite contradictory if you are awake, especially when the government restricts how many children a couple may have. Those watching and dreaming were blind believers, chained to the past. They were followers of antiquated practices which impede progression and foster community ignorance. The cost of this great spectacle, may have fed thousands of hungry people here in Taiwan. Their unity be damned!
Yei, crouched a short distance from the woman and set about replacing the memory card. She finished and
sat on the ground, then pulled out a cigarette.
“Want to try this?” The woman leaning there asked Yei in Mandarin.
Yei stood, “Sure,” and put the joint to her lips and sucked hard. She held the smoke in her lungs, exhaled then took another drag before passing it back to the woman, “Thanks, good stuff.”
The lantern woman smiled, “You’re welcome,” and then her lips tugged at the edges. There was a sudden pinprick to her heart. It became wide branches of sharp pain and a breath spread it more.
“It will end soon Kim-Sung, do not fight it.”
Kim-Sung coughed. The woman watched compassionately, almost as if she’d done nothing wrong. The lovely face appeared so harmless –but it was not. Kim-Sung recognized the face of an assassin. They’re unassuming people whom you least expect, until you are at death’s door. This Asian woman was beautiful death; a mocking celebratory farewell at the Lantern Festival.
Kim-Sung coughed, again, then her heart spasmed.
Constantine Tulo; she hated the name. Her husband held such promise when they first met. He was considered one of the best, until spirits robbed him of reason. Then he became an insipid lush. She blamed him for their tragic divorce from life, but accepted death at the hands of a woman. She preferred it this way; women were not as clumsy or cruel as the men. She wondered who gave the order, women or men. A half-smile came; she hoped Selange spoke the words. Somehow, it was nice to think of the spunky American. She liked her better than the other women. Yes, Selange was not an arrogant or spoiled bitch!
Kim-Sung began to slowly descend, her eyes on the figure. The long thin blade which punctured her vital organ retracted and became concealed in her sleeve.
Oh, such a clever one. Kim-Sung, whispered, “Tell Selange, I am sorry. Forgive me,” then she sat, eyes wide open in a death sleep.
CHAPTER ONE
‘Knowing yourself, is the beginning of all wisdom.’
-Aristotle
Giuseppe gripped the man’s ear and led him to the chair in the center of the room then shoved him forcefully down. The man’s ass collided with the hard seat and he put a hand to his reddened ear, after Giuseppe let go to rub away the soreness. The weasel accountant embezzled nearly half a million euros from Giuseppe’s brother-in-law Matteo’s businesses and attempted to leave town this morning. Obviously, he hadn’t gotten far, had he?
“Signore Dichenzo…” the accountant sputtered, before desperate eyes turned on his former employer, “Signore Peglesi, this is not what it looks like!”
Matteo Michello Peglesi found the man’s statement amusing. Half a million euros were missing, the accountant records did not match, and the man was attempting to flee, it was exactly as it ‘looked like’. He was being ripped off!
Giuseppe smirked and pat Matteo’s upper back, “See this never happens with my people. You make examples for small things and they are frightened of what you’ll do for bigger things.”
Matteo frowned. His brother-in-law was heavy handed in matters. Matteo’s father taught him differently, gain your employees respect and their loyalty is guaranteed. In this case, his father was wrong. There is no loyalty when it comes to money and women. Men betray other men.
They were in the cellar of one of Giuseppe’s spots, with six men standing ready to hear the order to execute the thief.
Matteo put out his hand, “Datemi una pistol!”
Giuseppe gladly removed his shiny gun and slapped it in Matteo’s palm, “Here.”
“Wait –wait!” The accountant pleaded, “I will give back the money.”
“It’s not about the money,” Matteo replied, because it wasn’t. It was about trust. A thief amongst them was untrustworthy and a threat to the entire family. He aimed at the man’s forehead and he squealed, “Please, there’s something you do not know…it’s about Fabio Benaducci. His son, Roberto…”
Giuseppe and Matteo were all ears. Fabio Benaducci was an ally to their families. He hailed form Naples and had ties in America. His son Roberto was also Giuseppe’s friend for many years.
“Someone saw Roberto talking to a DSS Agent in Venice. They did not overhear…”
Giuseppe cut the man off, “When?”
“Two days ago.”
This news disturbed Giuseppe. The U.S. Diplomatic Security Service was the federal law enforcement arm of the Department of State with dual roles. They were members of the Foreign Service and law enforcement agents. Arlington, Virginia is where they’re headquartered. They’re assigned to various field offices around the world. Their duties ranged from protecting dignitaries to counterintelligence. Roberto being seen during a clandestine meeting with DSS agents did not bode well with Giuseppe.
Matteo raised the gun and fired. The thief had only secured a minute more of life. Death was the punishment for his actions. “Clean this filth out of my sight!”
The men went to work and Giuseppe ushered Matteo into a private room away from their ears. “This is not good.”
Matteo put the gun on Giuseppe’s desk then took a seat, “Can we believe the words out of the mouth of a thief, they lie easily, no?”
“Truth can come at the sight of a gun. Besides, why volunteer the information?”
“To spare his life.”
The moment the accountant stole from Matteo, his fate was sealed. Giuseppe wasn’t concerned any longer with the accountant. His mind traveled to a more pressing topic, Roberto. They were friends for many years. It saddened him to think of what he must do. He would not send a lackey in this instance, on the contrary. He planned to sit and drink with the man one last time. They’d laugh and take jabs at one another –then when the hour was right, he’d look his friend in the eye, ask one question before silencing him forever. He would kill him fast; perhaps do as his cousin Alfonzo advised; a sharp blade directly to the heart or across the throat when it’s personal. Betrayal by those closest was always the most injurious. Too, bad!
Giuseppe took a deep breath, “I believe this is somehow connected to my cousin’s troubles in America.”
“What can Roberto know or gain by cooperating?”
Giuseppe stared at the silver gun atop the polished mahogany desk. Roberto knew little about the Giacanti’s. They were friends, yes, but his father warned him years ago never to speak of family to others. His father told him many things –but failed to tell him Alberti was Nico’s father. All these years he believed Nico was his cousin on his mother’s side, an offspring and rotten seed of Ernesto, aka, The Butcher. This changed many things, however it did not alter his dislike of Nico, Giacanti or not!
Alfonzo, he loved. The younger man should have put a bullet in Nico’s head and taken the children from his adulterous wife. He scoffed at the thought of having a wife, when freedom to do as he pleased did not come with marital restrictions. In conversations with Alfonzo he discerned the man had begun to embrace bachelorhood with gusto. Clubbing, women, drink and sports were the highlighted topics. Yes, a man forged his own destiny, lived by his own rules and was not bound by one woman who could bring him eternal misery. His parents had an admirable marriage. They understood loyalty; they were an exception.
Ah, women…women…women…women. They were beautiful temptresses with such power between their legs that staying with one too long stripped a man of his ability to reason. Selange, had done this to his cousin and thank goodness the man finally came to his senses. Giuseppe admitted, before the affair with Nico he’d become ensnared by her charms, as well. Ah, but like Roberto, her traitorous act ruled everything else out.
Giuseppe addressed his brother-in-law after the lengthy silence. “Roberto has a lot to gain. If Alfonzo is removed, then his American family can seize control of our businesses. Alfonzo ensures they flourish without impediment. His connections are invaluable to me and my associates.”
“Um, true.”
“I believe his troubles have spilled over to our shores.”
Matteo ‘humphed’. “Italy is not America. We are an ingrained part of so
ciety and accepted, albeit reluctantly, but we’re part of Italy’s culture.”
“Yes, but there are voices being raised against our practices and the cooperation with other countries threatens us. We do not want to become like America.”
“That’s why brother-in-law,” Matteo said, rising to his feet, “you must clamp down on the families insisting on receiving protection money from legal shop owners and stop these car parkers from running rampant. Our families can operate without the petty taxes.”
“The petty taxes bring in millions for some.”
“Then they need a new source of revenue. It’s considered leeching, no?”
Giuseppe’s eyes narrowed, “You sound like Nico.”
“Then Nico makes a valid point,” Matteo said without backing down, “you want the respect of the good citizens Geo, they can be your strongest allies.”
Giuseppe stood, “I will think on it, but first there’s someone I must visit. Come, let’s leave together. Hopefully, they cleaned the mess out there.”
****
One heavy eyelid opened, and then the other followed at the sound of a familiar wailing. Flat on her stomach, face pressed to the pillow, Selange moaned before invisible hands set her upright. Reluctantly, her eyes widened. The taste of sleep clung to her tongue and she made a face. The persistent cry escalated and she blinked several more times to chase the sleep away.
Three hellish nights of sleep deprivation had finally taken its toll. Angelina Olivia Brown was working her patience. The colicky infant refused to cut her slack. It got so bad; Selange often bunked in the nursery to avoid trudging through the hall, bumping into walls at odd hours of the night.
Aaaaaaaaaaah…please Angie…stop fussing…I get it…you’re hungry!