“Is that why this house, your office, has all the glass?”
“I guess so. I always felt safest when I was outdoors, in the woods. I knew what was going to happen and when. The leaves will always fall at a certain time for example. Indoors, I had no idea what was going to happen from one minute to the next.”
“Do you know something, I glad your aunt died in that fire. If she was still alive I would kill her myself,” I said.
“Brooke, don’t ever say that. You have no idea what it’s like to live after, knowing you have killed someone, it destroys a part of you,” he said as he pulled me to him.
“With love, that part can be rebuilt,” I said, knowing he was talking about himself.
“Everyone has something good in them, if you build on that, the bad stuff has no room to fester,” I said, firmly believing it.
Chapter Three
Two days later we travelled to New York by private jet, a Gulf Stream G450, so the Captain informed me. It was exciting and luxurious with soft, cream leather armchairs and walnut panelling. There were five of us, myself and Robert, Travis, Paul and Gary.
“Do you own one of these?” I said, stroking the seats of the small plane.
“I’m a businessman, Brooke, not a fool. Let some other mug have the cost of this baby sitting on the tarmac most of the year. We just charter one when we want it,” he said.
“I could have ten children’s homes for what this would cost,” he added.
We arrived in New York and were whisked through to our waiting cars. Luca had provided drivers for us, people he trusted. We were staying in the Royal Suite of The Waldorf Towers, in Manhattan and were taken through a marbled foyer while Travis checked us in. A private lift took us to a wonderful, opulent suite with a separate lounge, bedroom and dining room. I learnt that Robert would not normally stay somewhere like the Waldorf, he preferred something a little less obvious but thought I might enjoy the experience.
That evening we dined with Luca and Lucia and an older couple, Gianfranco and his wife Sofia. I felt a little out of place, the women would converse in Italian, Lucia translating for me. Sofia had, like Lucia, been born in Italy and had come to America but had never really picked up English.
“Sofia asks me to apologise, her English is not so good but also to let you know how beautiful you are, Brooke,” she said.
“Thank you, that’s really kind of her to say,” I said, a little embarrassed.
“You have a certain look that many Italians like, your black hair but with blue eyes,” she said. “Some Northern Italians have blue eyes and Sofia wonders where you are from.”
“Well, I was born in England. I think there’s some Irish on my father’s side but to be honest, Lucia, I don’t have a great relationship with my parents. I’ve never really known any of their family, so who knows. Maybe I should do some research, I do know my name is Native American, but they probably got that from a film,” I said laughing.
Sofia waved her hands in the air after Lucia had translated, she had convinced herself that I was Northern Italian regardless.
“She says you should have an Italian name, perhaps an honorary one, like Roberto here,” she said smiling at him.
Roberto, sounded sexy. A long time ago I thought he should have been called Damien after the kid from the film Omen, but Roberto was much nicer.
Sofia was such a lovely woman, she smiled at me a lot, held my hand across the table and she spoke to me loads, not that I could understand a word. It was such a shame that I could not converse with her, perhaps Robert could teach me some things, just the basics. Lucia and I had arranged to meet the following morning, she would collect me from the hotel. I had the address for Taylor’s store but suspected that Lucia would already know it.
“Brooke, tell us a little about yourself,” Gianfranco asked in a heavy accent.
“To be honest, it’s not that exciting really. I came to Washington, initially on a holiday to catch up with a friend and somehow have ended up staying, well hopefully staying if I can get the papers sorted. I worked in the UK, a small marketing agency and I do miss that but not much else. It’s so nice here and I’ve met some wonderful people.”
“Your parents, siblings, are they still in the UK?” he asked.
“I was just saying to Lucia, I don’t really have a relationship with them anymore, which is a shame. I had a brother, sadly he was killed in Iraq, he was a soldier, some years ago but that’s really all there is to know about me.” Sounded a little pathetic when I thought about it, especially against these people.
“Your brother was a good man, but your parents are not,” he said. “You are a lovely woman, Brooke, it’s their loss,” he added, his kind eyes smiling at me.
He said something in Italian to Robert, who looked at me and smiled before answering him. With our meal finished, we stood to leave and Sofia pulled me into a hug.
“She asks that if you have time, you might like to visit, she’s decided to call you the smiling one,” Lucia said with a laugh.
“Please tell her I would love to, it would be an honour.”
Once in the car I asked Robert about Sofia and Gianfranco.
“Gianfranco was joint head of that family with Carmine and before Massimo, Luca’s father. He’s well into his eighties now. The older generation tend not to speak that much English, they live in Italian communities so there’s no need. I don’t know how long they’ve been here but Franco is Luca’s great uncle,” he said.
“Sofia seemed such a lovely woman, it’s a shame I couldn’t understand her.”
“She thinks you have the eyes and nature of an angel but the wrong colour hair,” he laughed. “If you want, we can visit them before we leave but be prepared to be fed, seriously fed.”
“She calls you Roberto.”
“I know, it goes back years, she doesn’t accept I was English so she makes her mind up about what you are and that’s it, you’re stuck with it. To be honest, I only really get to meet up with them a couple of times a year now, so tonight was good.”
“Can you teach me some Italian, just some basics?” I asked.
“If you want me to, I understand more than I can speak nowadays, Evelyn might be better.”
“You’re so at ease with these people, you really fit in with them.”
“I’ve known them for a long time, I met Massimo years ago but because of the connection between Carmine and Joe, I was accepted. These people don’t forget associations, family means a lot to them, whether you’re blood or not. Remember, they look upon me as Joe’s son and that’s why Franco said what he did about your parents.”
“Do they know about Joey?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do they know you killed him?”
“Yes, and they know why,” he replied, running his fingers over my scar.
“Were they upset about it?”
“No, why would they be? The only thing they were anxious about was that I was the one who pulled the trigger, they would have had someone else do it. They have a chain, you pass an order down the chain so that you become disassociated with it.”
We arrived at the hotel and I noticed the concierge made no attempt to open our door, he waited until the driver and Gary got out to do that. Travis and Paul were in the bar and we stopped by to have a drink with them.
“How was dinner?” Travis asked me.
“It was good, I met Gianfranco and Sofia, she was lovely, thinks I’m northern Italian though.”
“You have the same look,” Paul said.
“Where were your parents from Paul?” I asked, now knowing he was of Italian descent.
“My father was from Naples but he moved to Sienna, met my mother after coming to the states,” he said.
“Have you ever been there?”
“When I was kid, to see the grandparents and family but not for years.”
After saying our good nights, we headed to the lift. The attendant stopped anyone else getting in with us
and we travelled up to our floor.
“I’ve got a couple of hour’s work, some paperwork I need to go through,” Robert said as he changed out of his suit and settled at the desk.
I liked to watch him work, the way his fingers caressed the keyboard of his laptop reminding me of what they could do to me. Rows and rows of numbers flew across his screen, his eyes darting from one side to the other, understanding everything he saw. Every now and again he would curse, not liking something he saw and would switch to fire off an email to someone.
“Tell me what you’re looking at?” I asked, sitting next to him.
“These are projections on costs and profits for this development,” he moved the laptop to one side and laid out some plans.
“This is the development, the plan is that we build a five storey building, the lower floor is to be rented out or sold to high end boutiques, cafes and above will be one and two bedroom apartments.”
The plans showed a building, three sides, in the centre a courtyard, a water feature and areas to sit.
“How many apartments are there?” I asked.
“Currently, there are two hundred one bedroomed and the same amount of two bedrooms with thirty stores.”
“What happens to the apartments?”
“They’ll get placed with Richard’s department, some will be sold, and some rented out. The figures you were looking at show the percentage of sales to rental, the profit and potential income,” he said as he pointed out the numbers.
“How does Luca fit in with this?” I asked.
“Luca wants to buy some of the apartments, but he doesn’t want to pay my price, last night was the start of negotiations. His company is not as cash rich as ours. Originally, he wanted this to be a joint venture but I like to have overall control and that would cause problems,” he chuckled.
“However, it will be his construction teams that do the build, so we may offset their costs against property. We need to negotiate his fees against the sale prices.”
“Why not put in your own team to do the build?” I asked.
“Two reasons really. If this was in Washington, we would, because we would have direct access to oversee it but being out here means Paul travelling constantly, that would take him away from what we’re doing back home. Second, if Luca’s teams are doing the work, it’s less likely we will get any disruption, union or government intervention, it would normally run smoother.”
“Doesn’t Paul have managers that would travel for him?”
“Of course, but I guess it’s my control issues. I like everyone at the top to be involved in everything that we do, especially if Luca is involved.”
He ran through the numbers for me, pointing out various things and right at the end he showed me that if everything went to plan, once completed the project would net Vassago over $30M in two years time. He gave one year from start of build to completion and one year to complete all sales and lettings.
I left him to his work and headed off for a shower and to read in bed. Later that night I felt a hand caress my stomach, my body reacting to it instinctively before my brain was fully awake. My skin tingled at his touch and a heat radiated where he had been. His lips sought mine, a gentle probing of his tongue as his fingers wandered further down. I pulled him towards me. Sometimes I loved the foreplay and sometimes, like now I just wanted to feel him inside me, to run my hands over his muscular back and watch his face as he made love to me.
I had calculated that Robert and I had had sex more times in the past few months than Michael and I had in ten years. I loved that he wanted me so much. Sometimes he needed sex as a release from the stress of his day, sometimes as a way to reconnect with me if he thought I was unhappy but no matter what the reason, I wanted him as much.
****
Breakfast was brought to our room and after, I headed downstairs to meet with Lucia, Gary in tow and we headed off to Taylor’s store. The store was probably three times the size of the Washington one, music played loudly and there were models for assistants. Taylor had informed the manager we were visiting that day and it was great to see a bottle of champagne on ice for us.
It was hard not to notice the looks and greetings Lucia received. We chatted about her family, her children and Gianfranco and Sofia whilst we sat, the assistants bringing items of clothes to us to view, our own private little fashion show. I selected a couple of pairs of jeans and a shirt for Sam, some bits for Scott, before we headed off to lunch.
Entering the restaurant was like going back in time, a small Italian with chequered table cloths and unlit candles in old dusty brown and green wine bottles. The owner came over, fussing, and ushered us to a table, a carafe of red wine waiting for us.
“It’s lovely to spend time with you, Brooke,” she said as she raised her glass to me.
“With you too, Lucia. I’m still really only getting to know Robert’s friends and I must say, everyone has been so pleasant to me.”
“How are you, after that unfortunate incident?” she asked, I knew what she was referring to.
“I’m okay, going to bear the scars and it was a huge shock to go through that, I must admit.”
“I’m sure it was. We were all very concerned when we heard, I know Luca was extremely anxious for you and Robert.”
“Robert saved my life, if he hadn’t of got there, I would be dead,” I said with a shudder.
“The thing is Lucia, I don’t come from your world. I knew a little about Robert, he wouldn’t tell me too much to start with, but to then have to go through that and learn what I have about him, has been a little testing to say the least.”
“How do you feel, now you know who he is?”
“I love him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him so I have to adapt and accept. I get a little scared about things, more so because I am still learning. Take the night you guys came to Washington, it freaked me a little to know the FBI were watching us.”
She laughed. “And if you look, the table by the door, the very obvious undercover police officers are still watching us.”
I didn’t want to turn around.
“Oh God, Lucia, how do you live with it?”
“It’s very different in Italy. To be honest, my family are left alone, we’re not hounded as we are here, in America. Those men there, I suspect they are curious about you rather than me, they know who I am, who my husband is. Perhaps you will need to get used to being viewed with a little suspicion for the moment.”
A plate of pasta was placed in front of us, it smelled delicious, a side salad, bread and a small bowl of olives and oils.
“This is a wonderful place, just the kind I can imagine in a piazza somewhere,” I said looking around.
“It’s probably the most authentic restaurant in New York. Most of the ingredients are flown in, even the tomatoes and especially the oils,” she said, dipping her bread.
“I would love to take Robert to Italy, especially to Naples. I want him to see Joe’s village.”
“I’m sure he would love that, he’s far more Italian than most born there,” she said with a chuckle.
“Lucia, I have the girls back home, the wives of Robert’s guys but they all married into this lifestyle. I know this is going to sound so odd but I want to understand Robert and his world, past and present, will you help me?”
“Of course. However, no doubt you appreciate, there are things I don’t know about his and Luca’s business dealings, I’m not involved, so I can’t help you there.”
“It’s more the family aspect,” I really did not want to use the word Mafia to her for fear of causing offence.
“I can only tell you of mine, of Luca’s,” she said.
“My family belonged to one of the oldest organisations in Italy. I think perhaps you have to understand that many years back the only income was from farming or crime. It was a way of life then. Not the kind of crime we see today of course. Each family controls a region, the one they were born in and no doubt they ruled by fea
r. They also did good, brought wealth to the area. Providing the head of the family received his share, anyone could start a business. People had someone they could turn to, to solve a dispute with a neighbour. I guess it’s a little like having a mini government, they felt protected.
But life changes, Brooke, times move on and to protect the families, there was an agreement to form a society, for want of a better word, they called themselves Camorra. It still exists, the government have tried many times to break it down but it’s too powerful and the thing about Camorra is that it has several heads. If one is killed or put in prison, there will be another to take his place. It’s a clan that cannot be dissolved, however much people have tried.”
“So your family were part of this. What was it like, to grow up in that?” I asked.
“With privilege of course. Wealth brings many things, respect and security to a degree. There will always be someone who wants to take these things away, not so much now but there were some terrible, bloody wars, whole families wiped out by another. However, as children we were not exposed to much, we were not aware of what our parents did, just that they were important men.”
“How did you meet Luca?”
Her eyes softened when she spoke, “I was a young girl when he visited my home and I fell in love with him, from afar of course. It was my father who decided he would be a good match for me,” she paused.
“Don’t look so shocked, it was not an arranged marriage as such, but no young woman tied to one of these families is completely free to choose who she marries. I mean think about it, I would never have been able to marry someone from a rival family, although I do know of some that have with terrible consequences. I would not have been forced to marry someone I didn’t love. It just helped that there was a benefit between the two families. The father’s would meet, discuss a union, I was allowed to date him and we married in Rome, twenty five years ago.”
It was interesting and listening to her, it sounded quite romantic in a way. I knew she was censoring what she said, only giving me the basic, general background. Being wary is something inbred in these people and for good reason.
Fallen Angel, Part II Page 7