BRANDO
The Santini Brothers #2
Marita A. Hansen
CONTENTS
Copyright
Acknowledgements
US English Note
The Santini Family
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
About the Author
Other Books by Marita A. Hansen
Copyright
BRANDO
(The Santini Brothers #2)
Copyright 2015 © Marita A. Hansen
Editor: John Hudspith
Cover design © Arijana Karčić, Cover It! Designs
Cover photograph from Predrag Calic
and sourced from https://www.dollarphotoclub.com/
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means whatsoever without the written permission of the author, nor circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. For subsidiary rights inquiries email: [email protected]
All characters, names, places, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who has helped me in getting this book published, especially my long suffering family for having to put up with all the time I spend on trying to make my writing career a success.
In addition, I would like to say a special thanks to:
John Hudspith – He’s edited many of my books, and is absolutely great to work with. I always feel that I’m putting my best work forward after he’s been through the manuscript.
Noara Rahman and Charmaine Butler – my beta readers, who did a fantastic job with helping me to get the best out of the story.
PLEASE NOTE:
US English is used throughout the text, which differs slightly from UK/Commonwealth spelling.
For example, US English uses story instead of storey in regards to building levels, color instead of colour, and so forth. So, if you see slight variations, they are not errors.
Any other differences may be due to the book being set in Italy. The island mentioned is loosely based on Sicily.
THE SANTINI FAMILY
Ricardo (Senior) – The father of all but Brando. He’s bedridden with an unknown illness.
Concetta – The mother of all but Valentino.
The Santini children from the oldest to the youngest.
Ricardo (Junior) – The 37-year-old Don. Due to taking an experimental drug eight years ago for his Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED), he damaged his nervous system, losing ninety percent of the feeling in his body.
Salvatore – Age 36. A widower who recently lost his wife in a bomb explosion. He has two young children, Mia and Piero.
Valentino (Pirelli) – 35 and the love child of Ricardo (Senior). He’s not acknowledged as a Santini due to being the outcome of an affair his father had with a prostitute. He grew up in a brothel and is a hitman. His wife was murdered by Landi soldiers due to being born into the wrong family. He has two teenage daughters: Mira (18 turning 19) and Siena (17).
Brando – 34, unmarried, a hitman, and the only Santini with golden eyes. The rest of his family has violet or blue eyes. His mother had an affair with Davido D’Angelo, someone Brando accidentally killed in a hit gone wrong.
Anna – 33 and married to Sergio Rosso. They have three young children: Bruno, Cara, and Lena.
Luciano – 31 and a widower with one child: Giorgio. He is still mourning his wife’s tragic death from a car accident five years prior.
The Twins – Vincenzo (Vinnie) and Dominic – The rocker twins are 29. They are singers and guitarists in a hard rock band, which has a cult following. They are single. Dominic is also a finder—someone who locates people who don’t want to be found. He’s very good with electronics and is fond of tattoos and piercings. Vinnie is an explosives expert and only has tattoos, not sharing his twin’s piercing fetish.
Silvio – 28. A Catholic priest who is plagued with guilt after causing the accident that killed his brother’s wife and crippled his sister.
Bella – 27 turning 28. She is wheelchair-bound due to the car accident Silvio caused while driving drunk.
Alessandro – Age: 27. He is 10 months younger than Bella. He was born prematurely and wasn’t expected to survive, but is now one of the strongest men on his island. He became famous after working as a porn star, his muscular body and sexual prowess gaining him a legion of fanatical female fans. He is also famous for his tattoos, which cover more than half of his body. His back ones were done to hide bad scars, which were inflicted upon him by kidnappers when he was fourteen. He also has multiple piercings, his Prince Albert and huge sexual appetite gaining him notoriety amongst the mafia community.
1
17 Years Ago
Church. Again.
It always bored Brando to tears. He wasn’t looking forward to listening to Padre Antonio’s long-winded sermons, telling everyone they would go to Hell if they didn’t adhere to his strict moral code. At least the twins would entertain him. Brando walked down the aisle, spotting his twelve-year-old brothers bringing out chalices to put on the altar. Vinnie and Dominic were dressed in red and white, looking like angelic altar boys ... although Brando knew they were devils in disguise.
As Brando followed his family into the pew a row from the front, Vinnie placed his chalice down on the altar and looked Brando’s way. Grinning wide, Vinnie pointed at Brando, then stuck his nose between two fingers, basically calling him a pussy. Brando flicked him the finger, making Vinnie laugh.
“Vinnie,” their mother snapped. “Stop clowning about.”
Vinnie smiled at her sweetly as if to say, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong’, then went to stand by his twin and the organist.
Shaking her head, their mother settled into the seat, smoothing a hand over her dark blue skirt. “That boy will be the death of me,” she muttered.
Brando sat down next to her, his parents and siblings filling up the long wooden pew. His family was the biggest of the Five Families—the Mafiosi who ruled their island, which was situated off the southern coast of Italy. His mother had created a dynasty, giving birth to ten children in ten years—although she didn’t look like she’d even had one. She had the figure of a runway model, something she’d been before marrying his father. From Paris to London, she’d walked the high-fashioned catwalks, gaining a name for herself, her stunning violet eyes her trademark.
His father’s booming voice traveled down the pew, pulling Brando’s attention away from his mother. He glanced past her and his numerous siblings,
spotting his father talking to his oldest brother. His papà was the Don of the Santini crime family. And he looked every inch a leader. The man exuded power: from the width of his shoulders, his commanding height, and the hard look in his steel-blue eyes. He was what a Don should look like—deadly. Although his father wasn’t all about the job, women his old man’s true passion. He was known as the lothario Don, something that caused numerous rows between his parents.
His father said something to Ricardo—Brando’s oldest brother. The harshness in his old man’s eyes softened, his love for Ricardo inherent. Brando looked away, wishing his father showed him love, instead of treating him like an inconvenience he wished would disappear.
The organist started playing, the music reverberating around the stone walls and stained-glass windows, the colorful saints watching over the congregation. After a few chords, the twins started singing, sending chills up Brando’s arms. Everyone in the church went silent as they sung The Lord’s Prayer, Vinnie and Dominic’s perfect harmonization giving the impression that one person was singing the song.
“So beautiful,” his mother said, her voice thick with pride, Vinnie’s indiscretion all but forgotten.
The song merged into another hymn, his brothers nearing the end a few minutes later. Their voices went up higher, captivating the congregation. They slowly brought the note down, holding it near the end. As their voices petered off, the sound of footsteps resounded throughout the church. Brando looked over his shoulder as a priest walked down the aisle—a new padre he’d never seen before. The priest passed him, the swoosh of his black garments almost eerie in the silence that filled the church, the man capturing everyone’s attention.
Brando’s eyes followed the priest as the man walked up the two steps to the altar. At the top, the Padre turned around to face the congregation. Although his black hair had flecks of gray, he looked to be in his mid to late twenties, his face smooth and attractive. He was also big—about six foot of packed muscle. Brando had never met a priest who looked like he could bench press two-hundred pounds, the man definitely unique. And those pale blue eyes ... they reminded him of the Donatelli, who were nicknamed the Blue-Eyed Devils.
“What’s Michael doing here?” his mother murmured. “He’s supposed to be in Africa on a mission.”
“Who’s Michael?” Brando whispered.
“The priest. He’s Don Donatelli’s half-brother. One of the twins.”
Brando smiled, thinking it was appropriate that his twin brothers were altar boys to another twin.
The priest started talking, his voice deep. Brando listened, hoping Padre Michael was more interesting than the last priest.
And he was.
Brando was so wrapped up with the man’s stories about Jesus and his disciples that when the end of the mass came he was disappointed. Padre Michael didn’t give long-winded sermons like his predecessor; instead, he talked about the history of Catholicism, something that fascinated Brando. He loved anything to do with history. At one stage, he’d wanted to go to university to study it, but his mother had vetoed his wishes, saying he had to work in the family business, which he hated. His father always gave him the most boring office jobs. He didn’t want to be stuck in an office like a secretary. Women did that, and he was no woman. If he had to work for his family, he’d much rather assist in the gunrunning side of the business, or even better, to follow the soldiers around, helping them collect money by strong arming the clients. Now, that was cool. But his father had refused his request, saying he was too pretty to scare anyone, and that the clients would more likely laugh in his face than give him money. Brando breathed out, wishing his father would trust in his abilities. He was doing well in his combat class and even better at the gun range. He had the best aim, his brothers unable to compete with him. He never missed a mark, and could even hit the target blindfolded. He had an instinct when it came to shooting, guns another extension of his body.
His mother indicated for him to get up. “Follow me; I want to talk to the new padre.”
He stepped out of the pew and followed her to the priest, while the rest of his family headed out of the church with his father ... except for Alessandro. His ten-year-old brother ran after their mother as though he was still attached to her by an umbilical cord. Brando’s youngest brother was small for his age, looking like a seven-year-old more than a middle school kid. Alessandro had been born premature, which was why their mother doted on him more than the others, often coddling him to the point that their father complained she was turning him into a sissy.
They came to a stop in front of the priest, who was growling at Brando’s twin brothers. Vinnie and Dominic turned to look at their mother, their smirks vanishing in an instant, her glare fiercer than the toughest Don.
Brando’s gaze shifted to the priest, who was staring at him. People always stared at him. Although his father had called him pretty, he wasn’t, he was beautiful. He had high cheekbones, dark-olive skin that hinted at a Moorish heritage, hair blacker than onyx, and golden eyes with flecks of brown. He hated his appearance, especially when people said he was too beautiful to be a boy. Instead, he wished he looked more like Ricardo. His brother had a masculine jawline and fierce eyes, not features made for a fashion magazine.
“Buon giorno, Padre Michael,” his mother said, wishing him good day. “It’s so nice to see you taking mass. Will this be a permanent arrangement?”
The Padre’s pale gaze shifted to her. “I will be taking the early Sunday and Saturday masses so that Padre Antonio can rest more.”
“Well, he is in his seventies. Anyway, you’re a wonderful speaker. Your sermon was very engrossing. I was sad when it came to an end.”
“You’re too kind.” The Padre glanced at the twins, who were now pulling faces at each other. “I wish I could say something nice in return, but unfortunately, I’m very unhappy with these two little devils.”
“Why? What did they do?”
“I caught them drinking the sacramental wine before mass.”
Brando’s mother gasped. “Padre Antonio allowed them to get away with far too much. I hope you can whip them into shape.”
The priest nodded, his pale eyes moving back to Brando. “And who is this young man?”
“My third eldest—Brando.”
The Padre’s eyebrows shot up. “He doesn’t look like a Santini, he looks like a D’Angelo.”
“He takes after his great aunty.”
“Very much so. He’s a replica of her son Davido. How old are you, Brando?”
“Seventeen.”
“Have you ever been an altar boy?”
“When I was younger.”
The Padre glanced at the twins again. Dominic was picking his nose, while Vinnie was blowing kisses to a girl standing by a pew. The Padre shook his head, then refocused on Brando. “Would you be able to help me on Sundays? I don’t think these two will be of much use. They’re fantastic choir boys, but not so much altar boys.”
“Of course he can help,” his mother cut in. “While the twins...” she growled, capturing Dominic’s and Vinnie’s attention. “You two, stop that nonsense.”
The twins went still.
She turned back to the Padre. “Please give them another try. I’m sure under your hand they will do better.”
“I’ll give them one more chance, but if I catch them drinking the wine again, they will be gone.”
She nodded. “I’ll make sure they don’t touch it.”
“Bene. Though, I would still like to have Brando’s help. Maybe he can lead them.” He returned his attention to Brando. “Would you be able to do that for me?”
Brando nodded, not really interested, but if his mother wanted him to help the priest, he would.
“Fantastico. Can you be here an hour before mass next week? I will run through everything you need to know.”
The twins started whining about it being too early.
Padre Michael turned to them. “I don’t need you two until right b
efore mass. I just have to show your brother what to do.” He turned back to Brando. “So, can you come early?”
Brando nodded again. The priest thanked him, then said his farewells and left, instructing the twins to follow him. The twins did, imitating the man’s walk, making Brando laugh.
His mother shook her head. “Buffoons.” Her attention shifted to Brando. “If you whip those two into shape and make the Padre happy, I’ll allow you to follow the soldiers around on their collection days.”
Brando straightened, her words capturing his full attention. “I will.”
“Good boy. It would be a nice change to get on with the Donatelli for once. I would very much like to settle the unrest between our families. The Padre’s brother is giving us trouble again, trying to impose upon our territories. Maybe if you please the Padre, he will put in a good word for us.”
Brando agreed, willing to do anything to make his mother happy—and his father, because if he could help with appeasing the tensions between the two families then his father would have to notice him.
He smiled, knowing the Padre was going to change his life.
2
Present Day
The soldier’s car turned left, heading off the main road. Brando continued trailing the man, keeping a safe distance behind so Miko didn’t see him. He’d been ordered to tail the soldier after Miko had bought a new car, one that was far too expensive for his salary, suggesting he could possibly be working as a spy. Brando had questioned Miko about it, the soldier claiming he’d acquired it with gambling wins. He’d appeared to be telling the truth, but Ricardo, who was both Brando’s brother and Don, wanted it verified after a servant had betrayed them. The man had planted bombs in their house, which had led to the death of a family member. Because of it, Ricardo was taking no risks, wanting everything double-checked to make sure there weren’t any more traitors amongst them.
Miko took another left, disappearing down a muddy road, which led to the gypsy village. Brando wondered whether Miko had won the money there, since the gypsies provided gambling services as well as fortune-telling and prostitution.
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