by Sienna Mynx
“I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m sorry.”
Shae walked over and hugged her. “Remember the time we fought at the club because I thought you took my Gucci watch?”
Marietta smiled though her heart hurt. “I remember.”
“I found it two days later in my purse. It took me a month to apologize to you.” Shae let her go and looked into her eyes. “I was a selfish bitch back then. You brought me into your new family and I lied to you. I’m the guilty one. I’m sorry, Mae. I never meant any disrespect. Just a creature of habit.”
“Me too.” Marietta smiled. “I’ll go with you to the airport.”
“No. Let one of those non-English speaking men take me. That way I can stick to it and not try to see Carlo before I leave.”
**
Carlo needed a phone. The pager on his hip buzzed non-stop. He glanced up to the ring. Ciro was throwing and landing punches on time. The trainer, a cousin of Carlo’s, was ducking and weaving but taking the blows.
“Be back!” he yelled at the men. It could be Renaldo paging him. They were supposed to meet up to make rounds and collect some debt. He went to the back hall and found a payphone. Carlo dug deep in his pocket for change. He dialed the number.
“Carlo?” came the hurried answer.
“Who is this? Ringo?”
“It’s me. Are you at the gym with Ciro?” Ringo asked.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“The women. They were fighting.” Ringo said.
“Who was fighting?” Carlo asked.
“The American woman. Shae and Marietta. They fought. The Donna separated them. They were pretty angry.”
“Does Giovanni know?”
“It’s not why I’m calling. The one, the one from America with pink hair, she’s leaving. The Donna is sending her away. They are driving her to Napoli.”
Carlo checked his watch. His heart beat so fast he nearly dropped the phone. “When did she leave?”
“Thirty minutes ago. Renaldo was called to take her.”
“What was the fight about, Ringo?” Carlo asked.
“I… ah, I’m not sure. I just thought you’d want to know,” Ringo said.
“Grazie.” Carlo hung up the phone. Ciro walked down the hall. He was dabbing at his face with a towel.
“Carlo? I want to spar with you,” Ciro said.
“Enough training. I need to get to the airport.” Carlo started for the door. “Shae’s leaving!”
“I’m coming with you!”
**
Shae smiled at the lady standing behind the counter. She was glad the woman spoke English. She accepted her ticket and hitched her strap up her arm.
“Grazie,” she said to the woman. It was funny but after all this time she finally figured out how to say ‘thank you’ correctly in Italian.
“Travel safe,” Renaldo said.
“Tell Kyra I want an invite to the wedding.” Shae smiled.
Renaldo turned and walked away without a second glance. Shae stood there with her plane ticket in her hand and watched him go. She was pretty sure this would be the last time she’d visit Italy. She could never return and not think of Carlo, and how wild and crazy he made her feel.
“Are you done, lady?” A man with a strong British accent barked at her.
“Oh, sorry. Yes.” Shae picked up her carryon bag and started toward the customs line.
Carlo drove his car up to the curb and threw the gearshift into park. “Circle the airport. I’ll get her and bring her out,” he said.
Ciro nodded that he’d obey. He’d already expressed to his brother his plans to invite Shae to stay with them for a few days. He knew she was moody, but the news of her leaving shocked him. He hit the sidewalk fast and eventually started running. He didn’t know what airline, or her flight number. He was going in blind. Carlo rushed through the automatic doors. He looked left and right. People were everywhere.
“Shit!” He ran his hand back over his head. “Shit!”
“Carlo?”
His head turned. Renaldo was looking at him curiously. “Where is she?”
“What are you doing here?” Renaldo asked.
“Where?” he shouted.
“Gone. She’s probably through customs. I left her at the counter ten minutes ago. The line for the toilet is around the—”
“Fuck the toilet! Which airline? Which one?”
“American.” Renaldo pointed. “Let her go, Carlo. The Donna sent her away.”
“Vaffanculo!” Carlo said. He ran toward customs. He immediately caught the stares from the Carabinieri. Carlo stopped running and tried to walk fast. And then he saw her. The customs line was apparently as slow moving as the line to the toilet. She was closer to the front.
“Shae? Shae!” he shouted.
An officer put his hand to his arm. Carlo shrugged off his touch. “She forgot her passport,” he said. Shae had heard him. She refused to look back at him again. He could tell by her stance she was purposefully ignoring him. He grabbed her arm and made her look at him.
“I need to talk to you.”
“I can’t. I’ll miss my flight,” Shae said.
“Fuck the flight. Don’t go. Talk to me!” he demanded and grabbed her arm.
She looked up at him and tears were in her eyes. “Go away, Carlo. We had our fun. It’s over. Okay? It’s over!”
Carlo let her arm go. “I can fix it if you tell me what the fuck I did!”
“No. You can’t. There’s nothing to fix.”
“So your plans to stay with me, and see Ciro’s match were all bullshit? You changed your mind.”
“You changed my mind.” She looked away.
“What the fuck does that mean? What is my sin now, Shae? Nothing happened between us that you didn’t want to happen.”
“I’m going home. It was all a game remember? A stupid game. And now it’s over.” She walked up to the window and gave the customs agent her passport. He stamped it.
Carlo grabbed her by the arm once more. “It was never a game to me.”
She snatched free of him and this time he saw the tears had spilled on to her cheeks. She gave him a faint smile before she walked away. Carlo made a step to follow. He could grab her and drag her out the airport. Force her to tell him how the fuck she could go from being his sweet strawberry, to a cold bitch in just under a day. She was gone. Nothing worthwhile was meant to last.
Before the Storm
“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Lorenzo asked. He turned on the light. The brightness hurt her eyes. She squinted through the glare. Marietta sipped her tea. Zia made her a special cup that drained the stress from her headache.
“I was waiting for you to come home,” Marietta said.
Lorenzo walked into the kitchen. All evening Marietta thought of this conversation. Mirabella and Catalina had coached her on what to say. However, this was her marriage. And she knew her man better than any of them. She’d need to tell him something that protected them both from her mistakes if they ever surfaced to destroy her life.
“I sent Shae home,” she began.
“I heard. Why did you do that?” he asked.
“You heard? From who?” Marietta asked.
“Renaldo told me when I arrived. He said he took her to the airport.”
“These men tell everything we do! Jesus!” Marietta sighed.
“Che cosa?” Lorenzo asked.
“We had a fight. It got out of hand,” Marietta said. “We said some ugly things. Our friendship is over.” A hand covered hers. Marietta looked up into Lorenzo’s eyes. “I messed up. I love you, Lo. You know that. But I did something terrible.”
“You didn’t. You fought with your friend. Fuck her,” he smiled. “Come on smile for me.”
“Lo, you aren’t listening,” Marietta said. He kissed her. She kissed him back, afraid of the truth she wanted to share.
“Let me run you a bath.” Lorenzo pulled her up and then his arm went over her shoulders. He didn
’t ask her for any further explanation and she was grateful. She just wanted the entire day to be washed away.
**
“What happened here? Today?” Dominic removed his tie. Catalina looked up from her vanity mirror. She watched him undress.
“Catalina?” he asked.
“What are you asking?” she answered.
“Today. The women. I hear from the boys that there was some kind of fight. The American was sent home.”
“Who told you that?” Catalina turned around on her stool.
“Should I be concerned?” he asked.
If Eduardo or Ringo had told what they heard and saw, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. She smiled at Dominic. “Marietta and her friend had an argument. The Donna thought it was best that she leave.”
“That woman is a hot-head just like her husband,” Dominic said. He kicked off his shoes.
“Marietta’s sensitive, Domi. That’s all. The Donna handled her,” Catalina said.
Dominic stared at her for a moment. He shook his head smiling. “You know Patri had an old saying. It goes: a man should believe half of what he sees, and none of what he hears from a woman.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say. What does it mean?” Catalina frowned.
“It means there is more to this story than you are telling me. But, it’s women’s business so why bother?”
Catalina threw her brush at him and he ducked. He grinned. She smiled. “You’re so romantic, Domi,” she blew him a kiss.
He smiled. “I’m staying here tonight.”
“In my room? I thought Gio forbid it?” Catalina rose. She walked over to Dominic and stood before him. He sat on the edge of her bed. His hands stroked up her thighs and she ran her fingers through the crown of curls at the top of his head.
“Gio complained the entire time you were in Milano. He’s happy we’ve set a wedding date and you’re home. I know we have his blessing. You’re mine tonight.”
“I was always yours,” she hugged his face to her stomach. He rubbed her ass and it felt nice. “I can’t wait to get married.”
“Me either.” She lifted his chin. “How about we practice for the honeymoon.” She pushed him back down on the bed and straddled him. She planned to spend the rest of the night in his arms.
**
“It’s good to be home,” Mirabella said. She found Giovanni in bed with his reading glasses on. He was staring at his paperwork. She cut off the light in the bathroom and walked over to her dresser. She picked up her hand lotion and began to rub it into her hands and elbows.
“Giovanni?” He glanced up. “I decided to send Shae home.”
“Who is Shae?” he asked.
Mirabella sighed. “Marietta’s friend. My God the woman has been with us for over a week.”
“I forget her name.” he continued to read his documents.
“She and Marietta had a fight… an argument,” Mirabella said.
He glanced up over the top of his glasses. She smiled. “It’s nothing to worry about, really petty stuff. I didn’t want it to get out of hand. So I had Renaldo take her to the airport.”
“Well it’s handled then. And from now on keep them out of our home. These friends you and Marietta have. A hostel would be nice. I own a few in Sorrento.”
“How generous of you,” Mirabella chuckled. She eased into bed. “What are you reading?”
“Boring stuff.” He tossed the papers to the side.
“Is it true? What the men say?” she scooted over and rested on his chest. He removed his glasses and put them on the night table. He turned off the lamp.
“What do they say?”
“You have a boxer. Carlo’s brother?” she asked.
“Yes. It’s true. He has a fight in a few days in Napoli.” Giovanni kissed her forehead.
“I love boxing, Gio. Love it!”
“You do?” he asked.
“Yeah. I never told you? I used to… ah… I had a friend back at home, he was a boxer,” Mirabella said.
“No. You never told me.”
“It was a long time ago. Oh! I have an idea!” She sat up in bed. She must have startled him because she could see how bright his eyes flashed.
“Date night,” she said.
“Date what?”
“When was the last time we went out? Me and you. I want to go to the fight.”
“No, Bella.”
“Please, Gio! I would love it. A date. What do you think?” she grinned.
He chuckled. “Let me think about it.”
She ran her hand over his groin and he grunted. She gave him a kiss.
“Maybe I can convince you,” she said and eased him out of his pajama pants. Before he spoke she eased down the bed and guided him into her mouth. Giovanni rubbed the top of her head and she swallowed him down her throat, stroking his stalk. She worked her jaws until her man had the ultimate release.
The Next Day –
“Gio?” Rocco said.
Giovanni’s head turned and Rocco entered the room. He gestured for his uncle to join him. He was in need of the old man’s wisdom. Rocco closed the door behind him. His uncle could visit Villa Rosso whenever he chose. He couldn’t, however, enter a closed-door room without invitation.
“I spoke to my contacts in Firenze. They tell me the same as Domi. There is no Kei Hyogo running the Triad. The name has no meaning to their contacts.”
“And you believe them?” Giovanni asked. He glanced over to Santo who was invited to the conversation. Santo remained silent.
“What do you think, old man? Am I paranoid?” Giovanni asked.
“About the Triad?” Rocco asked.
“The China man. The one who stole my Bella away. He’s out of prison. No one can tell me where he went.”
“If he’s out of prison it would take him years to get the kind of muscle to return here after you, Gio,” Rocco said.
“Thank you!” Lorenzo said. “It’s what I’ve been saying. Gio, fuck the China man. He’s not a threat. If he is out there plotting, let him. He’ll play right into our hands. Then bap!” Lorenzo made the gesture of a gun firing. “I’ll do him myself.”
Rocco chuckled and nodded with glee.
Giovanni remained unimpressed. His gaze swiveled to Santo. “What do you think?”
Santo cleared his throat. “I think being cautious is wise, Gio. At least until we can pin down where he is. My cousins tried to put him down in New York.” Santo’s gaze switched between the men. “The closest they could get to him was one hit when we carved out his eye. He’s connected. He’s protected. He’s a threat, Gio. I just don’t think he’s an immediate one.”
“Keep looking,” Giovanni told Lorenzo. His cousin threw up his hands in defeat. Santo sat forward.
“Gio, I didn’t get a chance to thank you.”
Giovanni nodded.
“I’ll be starting out with the sanitation boys. I have a few Lorenzo put under me.”
“Yes, Gio. Santo is our new garbage collector,” Lorenzo winked.
Santo held back from reacting.
“Let me know how it goes,” Giovanni said. Santo heaved a deep sigh and gave a nod to them all as he headed to the door.
“I’ll check in tomorrow,” Santo said and then left.
Rocco sighed.
“Something to drink, old man?” Giovanni asked. He stood and started toward his bar.
“You know Zia forbids it,” Rocco said with a sly smile. Giovanni took that as a yes and poured them both a glass.
“So, Santo is back in the family?” Rocco asked.
Giovanni handed Rocco his whiskey glass. “He’s being watched.”
“I saw the gift from Mancini.” Rocco switched gears on him. Giovanni took a swallow from his glass. “You allow a man to come into your home and disrespect you, Gio?”
“It was my Bella’s birthday. She wanted him there. Besides it was Lorenzo’s home, not mine.”
“It was disrespectful. What if the other clan b
osses saw the portrait?”
“They didn’t.” Giovanni assured him in a flat tone.
“He’s mocking you. He’s trying to get next to your wife, trying to bring your business down.”
Giovanni looked at the empty glass. He turned it in his hand so that small traces of amber liquor swirled. “Have I been too tolerant, uncle?”
“In my day lines were never crossed. If they were there was a cost or consequence,” Rocco said. “Either you crush him and take what is yours, or you cut and sever all ties. There is no room for la cosa nostra in la Camorra or your famiglia.”
Giovanni nodded. “Agreed.”
That Evening –
Lorenzo laughed. He slammed the cards down on the table and picked up his cigar with a big boastful grin. The door opened and Carlo entered. Of course the boxer wannabe kid brother tagged along. The two greeted several of the men. Lorenzo hadn’t spoken to Carlo in several days.
“Deal me out, boys,” he said. He left the money on the table with no concern over its return to him. The men never disrespected him. When he stood, another man eagerly took his seat. Carlo walked through the gambling house headed for the back where others from different clans drank and gathered.
Lorenzo followed.
His best friend only saw him when someone in the room called out Lorenzo’s name in excitement. Carlo glanced back with that wounded lion look in his eyes. Lorenzo cocked his head left gesturing they leave the crowd and find a corner to chat. Carlo dug out a lager of his choice in a cool bottle with ice crystals covering the glass. He nodded and followed Lorenzo to the crates near a closed door.
“Where have you been?” Lorenzo asked.
Carlo glanced to his brother. The kid was laughing and demonstrating his technique with a few shadow punches for the younger men.
“Is he ready?” Lorenzo asked.
“I’ll stake my life on it,” Carlo said. “He’s ready.”
“It seems like we don’t talk much anymore. I rarely see you. I don’t hear from you.” Lorenzo said.
“Are you my wife?” Carlo asked.
Lorenzo chuckled. He stared at the men with Carlo in silence. “I need my friend. Things are getting complicated.”