by Nele Neuhaus
“Papa!” he cried. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“But you just did.”
“I would never do anything to hurt you!”
“That’s not possible.” Sergio grimaced. He smiled contemptuously. “You have never cared for anything but women, drugs, and fistfights. Just keep on like that.”
“Papa!” Cesare whined. He stretched out his hands. “I’ll never take drugs again, I swear to you! Please, don’t go! I’m your son!”
“Unfortunately, you are. But I have to leave. I have appointments.” Sergio looked at his watch. “Luca, you come to the city with me. I still need to discuss something with you.”
Sergio scowled at his son.
“You’ve failed to understand my most important rule, Cesare.”
“Rule? What do you mean?” Cesare nervously looked back and forth between his father and the other two men, who were standing next to him with blank faces.
“Don’t shit where you eat.”
His father’s uncharacteristic outburst of vulgarity made Cesare wince.
“Keep me posted, Silvio,” Sergio said and left the room accompanied by Luca. Cesare sank down in his chair and began sobbing.
Luca di Varese sat down next to his boss in the back of the limousine. He sensed what Sergio wanted to talk to him about. Luca was a silent and slender man, thirty-eight years old. He came from the South Bronx and was orphaned at the age of four when his parents died in a building fire. His mother was the cousin of Sergio’s wife Constanzia. Sergio had gotten to know the child and noticed his intelligence. He sent Luca to a good school, paid for his college degree in business administration, and made him the CEO of the Crown Regal Corporation at the tender age of twenty-six. This corporation managed all of the hotels and casinos that Sergio owned throughout the country, but the illegal part of his business was also embedded in it. Luca di Varese supervised illegal gambling, prostitution, and drug dealing for his boss, as well as laundering the funds that came from these lines of business.
“This boy is turning into a serious threat,” Sergio said after a while, shaking his head pensively. “He can’t stay in the city under any circumstances.”
“You really won’t help him?” Luca asked.
“Of course I will,” Sergio sighed. “I hope that I can straighten out this matter by the end of today. As soon as the charges against him are dropped, he must get out of here for a while. I’ve thought about Europe.”
“He could work for Barandetti in Napoli,” Luca suggested, “not for us, of course, but in fish wholesale or his warehouse. Drive around a forklift. Things like that.”
“Call Michele. If he doesn’t have anything for him, try Stefano Piesini in Verona. It wouldn’t hurt Cesare to spend a summer working in a vineyard.”
Luca nodded. They sat silently in the back of the limousine.
“However, I doubt that he’ll stay in Europe for the whole summer.” Sergio’s voice had a gloomy undertone. “His mother will take him in again. As usual.”
He turned his head toward Luca and looked at him sternly.
“I will say this only once and only to you, Luca”—his voice was quiet—“but if the situation arises, I expect that you will not hesitate, not for one second.”
Luca looked at his boss without flinching.
“I don’t care whether he is my son or not. I will sacrifice him before he causes me serious trouble with his stupidity. Do you understand that?”
Luca nodded.
“Will you promise to take care of this personally?”
Luca di Varese’s face didn’t reveal what he thought about his boss’s decision. He didn’t ask any questions or try to put in a good word for Cesare. Luca’s loyalty was unconditional, devoid of criticism.
“I promise, boss.”
Alex was drenched through to the skin when she returned home with her groceries late that afternoon. She placed the four grocery bags on the kitchen table and transferred their contents to the fridge. It was totally empty, as usual. Sergio had actually planned to spend the day with her, but then another appointment had gotten in the way and he had someone drive her home at nine thirty. Whenever Alex came from his Park Avenue apartment to her place in Greenwich Village, she felt like Cinderella, and she was annoyed that she didn’t have time to look for a nicer place. She lit a cigarette and thought about the past evening. She grinned as she remembered the many admiring and curious looks. People were curious because Sergio Vitali only had eyes for her the entire evening. Half of New York was surely speculating about who she was and what kind of relationship she had with Sergio. It was simply unbelievable how far she had made it! She felt like she was walking on air. The ringing of her cell phone startled her out of her thoughts.
“Good afternoon.” It was Zack, and he sounded smug. “Did you enjoy your excursion into the world of the rich and beautiful?”
“What do you mean by that?” Alex played dumb. How could Zack know where she’d been last night?
“Vince told me that you were with Vitali at the Plaza. He was somewhat…surprised.”
“I’m an adult. I can go out with whoever I want,” Alex responded more coldly than she had intended.
“Of course.” Zack laughed in a suggestive manner. “So do you fancy Vitali or just his connections?”
“That’s none of your business, Zack,” Alex snapped.
“It isn’t,” he admitted. “But now I understand why you keep brushing me off. Why would you waste your time with me if you’ve hit the jackpot?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Zack said in a spiteful tone. “Vitali fucks any woman he likes.”
“Are you mad because you don’t do it for me?”
“Nonsense,” Zack said with a laugh. “You’re not even my type.”
Alex’s laughter was forced. Zack was upset. Not because she consistently brushed off his overtures, but because she was in the process of passing him on her way up the social ladder. She’d spent the entire evening sitting at Vince Levy’s table at the Plaza and he had not. Maybe he was jealous about her success and her favorable position with LMI’s board. She realized she needed to deal with him very carefully in the future. He was an enigma, and it wasn’t good to have him as an enemy.
“Listen,” he said, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Micromax. I heard from a reliable source that they have serious management issues and that last quarter’s numbers were dressed up considerably. There are a couple of major film companies that are more than eager to get their hands on Micromax. This could turn out to be a good deal.”
Alex hesitated. Was Zack trying to meddle in her deals, or set out bait with this information?
“That sounds pretty interesting,” she answered. “Let’s talk about it on Monday. Okay?”
“Right.” Zack’s tone was no longer smug or upset. “And Alex, can I give you some advice?”
“What’s that?” Something inside of her went on the defensive.
He hesitated for a moment.
“Stay away from Vitali.”
Another warning! First Kostidis and now Zack. Why would he warn her about Sergio? Was he simply jealous, or was she doing him an injustice?
“Thanks, Zack,” she said, “you don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so. See you on Monday.”
Nelson van Mieren sat sweating under an umbrella on one of the terraces at Sergio’s luxurious villa on his private Cinnamon Island, part of the British Virgin Islands. He was disgruntled as he watched his boss and this Alex Sontheim walk up from the bay to the villa holding hands. They’d been cruising in Sergio’s snow-white, one-hundred-foot yacht Stella Maris—on which they’d come down here six days ago. Meanwhile, Nelson had been sitting around uselessly. Sergio had called him yesterday morning in New York and asked him to come here, although he very well knew that Nelson hated the climate and the entire island.
Nelson flew to Tortola and
took a helicopter to the island, only to be the third wheel all night. With growing unease, he observed that Sergio had changed. Even a blind man could see how crazy he was about this blonde bitch. Nelson hoped that he could leave that same evening, but Sergio didn’t appear to be in a rush to tell him why he wanted to speak with him so urgently. It was almost unbearable for Nelson to watch Sergio in action. When Sergio jumped into the pool with this broad after dinner, playing around and making out like a teenager, Nelson retreated.
Nelson had never seen Sergio behave so childishly in all the forty years they’d been friends, and he felt something almost like jealousy. The two met at an all-boys Catholic boarding school in Philadelphia, where they were sent at the age of six. Nelson van Mieren was much more than a simple lawyer. He was well versed in both commercial and criminal law, and he had been Sergio’s right-hand man for almost thirty years. They had built an enormous empire together.
Nelson didn’t like Alex Sontheim, and he was less and less pleased with how she had turned Sergio’s head. There was no doubt that she was exceptionally beautiful and very intelligent, yet that was exactly what worried him. It would have been different if she were a dumb bimbo, but intelligent women were dangerous. While the two of them enjoyed their day together, Nelson came to the conclusion that he needed to put a stop to Alex’s influence. He couldn’t allow Sergio to listen to people other than him, especially not a woman.
Alex finally disappeared into the house. Sergio poured himself a whiskey and joined Nelson on the terrace. He wore a relaxed smile and looked years younger in shorts and a T-shirt. They talked for a while before Nelson cut to the chase and asked Sergio why he had called him here.
“I’d like to ask you for your opinion in a personal matter,” Sergio responded. Nelson was in a state of red alert.
“I have never felt so content in my life.” Sergio leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Since I met Alex, I feel like I’m thirty again. She’s incredibly good for me.”
“Well, well,” Nelson replied.
Sergio kept smiling and swirled the ice cubes in his glass. “What do you think of her?”
The question sounded casual, but Nelson was instantly aware how critically important it was for him to give the correct answer. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. The tropical temperatures put a strain on his circulation.
“I would appreciate hearing your honest opinion,” Sergio said.
Nelson hesitated.
“She’s an attractive woman,” he answered elusively.
“Yes, indeed, she is”—Sergio nodded, somewhat impatiently—“but there are many other things that I love about her. I’m thinking about divorcing Constanzia.”
“You can’t be serious!” Nelson stared at his friend in disbelief. “You mean that you want to marry that girl?”
“I’ve never met a woman like her before.” Sergio smiled dreamily. “She has her own will. She is successful. Just thinking about her makes my heart beat faster. This has never happened to me before. I’m fifty-six now, and I’ve realized that I don’t want to continue my life as it was before. Everything is much more fun with Alex.”
“Fun!” Nelson snorted derisively. Now he was seriously concerned. “You sound like an eighteen-year-old! I’ve never heard you talk like this. What has this woman done to you?”
He kept an eye on his friend. It wasn’t enough to bad-mouth Alex. He needed to instill some doubts about her in Sergio’s mind.
“What do you know about her, her origins, her motives? Does she like you, or is she only after your money, your power? What girl wouldn’t be thrilled to cruise on a hundred-foot yacht to the private island of one of America’s richest men?”
“Why do you say that?” Sergio straightened up and threw an indignant look at his lawyer. His smile had vanished, and a deep groove formed between his eyebrows.
Nelson answered carefully. “Because I want you to realize what you put on the line when you carelessly trust someone you hardly know.”
“I’ve never been careless!” Sergio replied vehemently.
“That’s why I’m even more surprised about what you just said.” Nelson observed his friend attentively. Sergio was usually very good at hiding any type of emotion, but at this moment Nelson could read his friend’s face like an open book. Sergio was dangerously serious about this woman.
After hesitating briefly, Sergio said, “Over the last few weeks I have given some thought to Alex assuming Shanahan’s role. She does an excellent job at LMI, and she’s clever and cold-blooded—”
“For God’s sake, Sergio!” Nelson interrupted him. “Think about what you’re saying!”
“What do you mean?”
“Sergio.” Nelson leaned forward, and his voice was insistent. “You know how risky this is. Please, think about it! How well do you know Alex? How much can you trust her? What will you do when she suddenly has scruples? We can’t afford another situation like we had with Shanahan.”
Sergio was silent for a moment. He also knew that Levy’s mistake with Shanahan had cost him a bundle and was not so easy to sweep under the rug.
“For as long as I’ve known you,” Nelson said as he laid his hand on his friend’s arm, “you have never let yourself be guided by personal emotions, and you’ve always done pretty well with that approach. Fine, you bang the girl, you like her. She’s definitely beautiful and clever, but that’s exactly what makes her dangerous. You have to watch out for clever women.”
Sergio grimaced. This wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear.
“So you don’t like Alex?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter whether I like her or not,” Nelson countered. “Women have no place in our business. They are too unpredictable. And I think that Alex is especially unpredictable. Maybe it would make a difference if you weren’t involved with her. To be honest, I think that this is far too risky for you and for all of us.”
Sergio stared at his friend.
“You asked for my advice,” Nelson said coolly, “and here it is: keep her away from your business. It’s enough if she does her job well and Zack takes care of the rest.”
Sergio was silent. Emotion and reason fought a violent battle behind his impassive face. He stared off without saying a word. The only sound to be heard was the chirping of cicadas in the hibiscus below the terrace. Nelson hardly dared to breathe. Finally, Sergio released a depressed sigh.
“You’re probably right,” he said reluctantly, and Nelson had the feeling that he had just barely avoided a catastrophe. His trip down here suddenly seemed worth the exertion.
“Come on, don’t make such a face.” He sneaked a glance at his watch, trying to decide if he could catch a flight back to Tortola before Alex reappeared with a phony smile to invite him to stay another night. “Enjoy her company for few more days. But don’t let her wrap you around her finger. A little distance won’t hurt.”
Sergio nodded slowly.
“Thanks for your advice, Nelson,” he said convincingly. “I’m probably just getting old and sentimental.”
“Nonsense. Alex is a pretty girl. Keep her for the bedroom if you like.” Nelson heaved his corpulent body out of the rattan chair. “I’ll leave the two of you alone now. I have an appointment with Chester Milford to get to on Tortola about the terms for the new IBCs. I’ll see you in the city in a couple days.”
When Nelson left, Sergio poured himself a whiskey at the bar and gazed out over the emerald-green water. He had been hoping for a very different response from his friend. Maybe Nelson was right. But maybe not. Sergio had never asked for advice on his personal life before, but he also had never experienced such intense and confusing emotions.
Since their first meeting, Alex haunted his thoughts. For the first time, a woman had appeared in his dreams. Her initial standoffishness had driven him wild. Most women offered themselves as willing prey once they realized who he was, taking the thrill out of the chase. But Alex had kept him on tenterhooks for six lon
g weeks. The combination of restraint and passion when their eyes met provided continuous fuel to the wildfire she set inside him. He courted her persistently, and their first night together proved that the wait was worthwhile. Sergio had been with many women, but his experience with Alex was beyond comparison. Their pent-up desire had discharged like thunder and lightning. They’d done things together that he—who was more old-fashioned—had never dreamed of and had even felt a prudish reluctance to try. They’d made passionate love through the night. They finally fell asleep, breathless and exhausted, as the sun was rising. Sergio knew he was in love. This made for an even harsher realization when he woke to discover she had simply left. She had done just as he always did—she ’d slept with him and left, not asking if they would meet again. He was offended, but her resistance made him even crazier about her. For the first time in his life, Sergio couldn’t understand what was going on inside of him, but he determined that morning that he would possess this woman at all costs. In the weeks that followed, he was happier than ever before in his life. The days on the Stella Maris and Cinnamon Island confirmed his suspicion that Alex was the love of his life.
He had expected Nelson to validate his actions, to give him some type of blessing. But Nelson’s words had sobered him and instantly dissolved his euphoria. He suddenly felt like a sentimental fool who had been seduced by a woman. Angry, Sergio downed the whiskey in one gulp. Nelson was right. He needed to keep Alex at a distance.
May 1999
Alex and Mark sat on a bench enjoying a lunch of chicken sandwiches from Bandi’s Deli. They were soaking in the warm sun at Battery Park, just like many other employees from the nearby financial district. Alex stretched out her legs, wiggled her toes in the comfortable sneakers that she had put on in place of elegant pumps, and watched a horde of tourists embark on one of the Circle Line ferries heading for to the Statue of Liberty.