by Sienna Mynx
The room they shared was at the top level of the three-story villa. Isolated and furnished for every kind of debauchery Senator Banfi could conceive. They were brought in through a downstairs door to the side of the villa. Adara had only seen one person from the car to the room of sex, and debauchery. The moment she entered she was given strict instructions not to leave. The drugs weren't her thing. However, Adara went the distance with the sex games, and whatever the senator wanted. But she was serious about no drugs, and so were her bosses. That nastiness was reserved for the poor dying girl on the bed.
Adara refused to think of her role in the girl's death. She refused to think of what she could do to save her life. At the moment she had to act and pray that her boss was right. That the man who came through the door next would be the enforcer they called The Butcher, and finally she'd get her shot. Quick, yet aware, Adara put back on her party dress and shoes. She tucked her undergarments in her purse and then proceeded to search the room for anything other than the drugs. She wondered if there was more. This man's perversion had to have crossed the lines of the law many other times before.
Without caution, Adara tossed scarves, toys, bottles of oils and lubes out of the drawers. She found nothing. And then time was up.
Remember your training.
Remember your training.
Remember your training.
"Andiamo! She's in here," Federico said. The door was tossed open. Adara turned on the men arriving. Senator Federico Banfi rushed in first, in a dark robe tied with a silk belt tied underneath his fat belly that covered his manhood. He had red-rimmed, swollen eyes, and was sweaty. The men who strolled in behind him were the polar opposite. Both were dressed in dark suits with black gloves. But there was only one she couldn't take her eyes off of. It was Carlo, the Butcher. He glanced in her direction and then his stare moved to the dying girl on the bed.
"She took something... I didn't give it to her, she brought it here, and smoked it with that plastic tube and foil," the senator said. The senator wiped the traces of cocaine from his nostrils. How was this man considered the most powerful politician in the parliament? Certainly, as a politician, he knew how to lie?
"Where is it?" Carlo asked.
Senator Banfi pointed to the dresser. Carlo walked over and picked up the aluminum foil the drug sample was left upon it. He dipped his pinky into the powder and tasted it. No one spoke with The Butcher in the room. Adara made sure to stay silent.
"Che cosa è questo?" Carlo asked.
The other man with him walked over and took the sample of drugs from his hand and inspected it. Carlo looked around the room. "Where did you get this girl?"
"Malvo," Federico answered.
Carlo chuckled. "No wonder she's a junkie. And who is that?"
Senator Banfi glanced over to Adara. Now the men were all staring at her.
"She came with the girl. I don't know her fucking name."
***
The woman boldly met his stare. She had large brown eyes with sweeping lashes. The only blight on her beauty was the streaks of mascara that ran dark tears down her cheeks. She wore a shiny silver mini dress. It squeezed in around the waist and heaved her breasts while flattering her curved hips. The dress was pink and so short if she bent at the waist her ass cheeks would certainly drop out. The beauty possessed traits common to working girls, except for her eyes. Once again he was drawn to the fearless way she met his stare without lowering her gaze. That bravery reminded him of another woman. One he wished he could push out of his memory. Then he realized it was more than her bravado that captured him. It was her face, her lips, her nose, her hair. The locks were thick, dark, fluffy with curls and streaked in pink. Some of the long curls fell over her brow into her face, and she used her slender hand to push them away. Yes. It wasn't his imagination. Shae was several shades darker, and far curvier. Still he couldn’t shake the similarities. Maybe he was losing his mind.
Carlo approached her. "What's your name, cara?" he asked. His tone was gentle on purpose, to gain her trust. Though the defiant way she stood with her back straight and her left hand curled into a fist, clearly indicated he'd have to work harder. "I asked you a question, lovely. Don't make me repeat it."
"Adara," she said.
"You one of Malvo’s girls?" he asked.
"No," she said. "Sometimes, yes."
"No? Yes?" Carlo chuckled. "Which is it? No or yes?"
She cut her eyes away as if in disgust. The action, the mere turn of her face as she dismissed him was so similar to Shae it caught him by surprise. Her thick curly hair even swayed in the same manner. He frowned over the mental comparison. Shae wasn't a whore. What was wrong with him? This beauty was throwing him off because his mind was fucked up. It had been since Shae broke his heart. He was fucked up.
Carlo turned Adara's face back to look into her eyes. They were brown. Far richer in color than brown--the pair had golden flakes of ginger. Those eyes weren't like Shae's. Those eyes belonged to Adara alone. He smiled at her.
"I don't work for Malvo. I work for Baldamenti," she answered.
"What? No, she doesn't! She's lying. I swear. They are Malvo’s girls! That is who I called for them. This is not a Baldamenti set up. I swear it." Senator Banfi shouted the explanation at Carlo's back.
"You know better than to call us if you are dealing with the Baldamentis," Carlo said without taking his eyes off her.
"It's not true! That whore is lying!" The senator said. The senator was backed up against the door by Umberto. The man looked as if his knees were knocking.
He traced his finger along the outline of her jaw. "You playing games with me?"
"I'm not lying. I'm new. He's my first client. I came here and did my job. He's the one lying. He's the one that brought the drugs. Not her."
"Shut your mouth, you puttana!" The senator charged at her, but Umberto caught him by the throat. He threw him back. The senator landed on top of the drugged out girl on the bed. He squealed like a pig and dropped off while scrambling on his hands and knees to get away from her lifeless body. Everyone in the room could see his fat, hairy, pimply ass once he did.
"I just want to go home. I don't know her or him."
"I thought you said you both work for Baldamenti?" Carlo asked.
"I-I-I-I do, but I've never seen a person overdose before. Please let me go. I won't say anything. I swear it."
"Take off your dress. Now." Carlo said and stepped back to get a good look at what was under her shiny party dress.
***
"No," Adara said.
The man who was now standing over the whimpering senator glanced her way. His glare was equally terrifying. Carlo's amused smile faded. His eyes darkened with anger. In a flash, she saw the kind madness in his hateful glare that his reputation warned of. She took a step back. Her training would help her disarm one of them, but she had no doubt she could not fight her way out of the room with these two.
He stepped forward as if to grab her and the phone in the room rang. He froze. His gaze switched to the phone and then to the senator. "Who' calling?"
"My men downstairs. You kept them out. They are just checking... on me."
"Giovanni told you to send them away." Carlo removed his gun. "Answer it."
The other man grabbed the senator by the hair and dragged him howling over to the phone. The senator whimpered loudly. He reached for the phone and tried to collect himself. Carlo raised the gun witht he silencer on the end and pointed it at the senator.
"Ah, si, si, va tutto bene! Everything is fine," the senator said. He hung up the phone and put his hands up. Adara stepped further back. Her purse was near the chair. In it was a gun of equal size to The Butcher's. She could not be present and do nothing while a man of parliament was murdered before her. This undercover sting was over.
"Where do you think you're going?" Carlo glanced back at her. "Seduto." He pointed to the chair with her purse on top and told her to sit. Adara did so immediately. She put the purs
e in her lap. And then he turned his gaze back to the senator. However, the other man kept staring at her. She couldn't reach into her purse for her gun. Not yet.
"What are you doing, Carlo? What is this? Take the girl and go. Just go!" Senator Banfi said. Adara heard the senator scream. Her attention volleyed from the enforcer to the Butcher. He had knelt before the senator and put the gun in his mouth. With the gun as the hook, he slowly forced the weeping man to stand upright. The senator’s eyes stretched, and his hand trembled.
"You know I prefer a meat cleaver to teach a lesson, but this gun will do for you little piggy. Make a move and I'll blow a hole to the back of your throat." Carlo said. He kept the gun in the senator's mouth as he leaned over to the right, and put his two fingers to the girl's throat to check her pulse.
"She's dead," Carlo said.
Adara felt as if she would throw up. That poor girl's death was as much her fault as it were theirs. She could have saved her life. She should have saved her life.
"Get on the bed. Next to the whore. Now."
The senator did as he was told. Adara eased her hand into her purse and gripped her gun. Was this how it would end for her? After everything she'd been through, this is where her mission would end? She would not let these men kill a senator. She could not.
"What is going on?" The senator wailed.
"Shut the fuck up. You know what this is."
The senator wept. Adara frowned. She looked to the senator. He was in the middle. On the left side of him was the dead girl. The senator understood the setup.
"Call Giovanni, Carlo. He would never insult me this way! He owes me!"
Carlo smirked. "Giovanni is the one who sent me, you fat fuck!"
Umberto came over to the bed and forced the senator into a compromising position. The woman's face fell over, and Umberto had to prop her up against the senator with her hand on his limp tiny prick.
Mortified, the senator stammered through counter proposals, offering them money, jewels, property. He begged and pleaded. Adara nearly drew her gun from her purse but froze when she saw Umberto remove a portable camera from his pocket.
"No! No! Please!" The senator said.
Carlo shot the lamp next to the bed. It shocked Adara so bad; she nearly pulled the trigger on her gun from inside of her purse. The senator yelped in surprise.
"Take the fucking picture," Carlo snarled.
The senator did what he was told. He posed for one photo, and then others in different positions. Most of them with him kissing and licking the body of the dead girl. His face and hers were in every shot.
"We're done," Carlo announced. She lifted her head and looked at them. Carlo turned and looked at Adara. "Dress the girl and collect everything you brought with you. Including the drugs. Now!"
The senator wept. He curled up into a ball and wept. Adara wouldn't be surprised if he took to sucking his thumb. This was the setup. The dead girl and the pervert senator. When she put the dress on the girl, she could have sworn she felt her breathing. She prayed she was. But she didn't say anything to the men. Maybe having them think she was dead could save both their lives.
After she was done the other man in the room came over and swept the girl up in his arms. To her or anyone who was on the third floor she looked as if she were only passed out.
"Let's go, sweetheart," Carlo said.
She did as she was told but she kept her purse with her. They left the senator weeping on the bed. They walked out of the front door. The senator’s bodyguards looked at them curiously. Everything played out just as it should. Until they reached the car. The girl was placed into the boot of the car. Adara glanced back to see the bodyguards frowning, but no one questioned them. Carlo grabbed Adara by the arm and pulled her to the car.
"You're coming with me."
***
Lorenzo rolled his neck. He slumped back in the chair and watched Marietta. It wasn't too late. The sun had just disappeared from the sky. Still, he felt exhausted from the day. His wife was at the stove. She had some chicken breasts from dinner that she was heating up in olive oil, cut parsley, and tomatoes. When he saw her slicing the block of cheese to add to it, his stomach growled. One thing he could say for certain was that Marietta was a hell of a cook.
After turning it over and seasoning it, she added the cheese on top of the chicken and then transferred the cast iron skillet to the brick oven.
"How was your trip to Sicily?" she asked.
Lorenzo smiled. He knew she'd been dying to ask that question since he found her in their room and he asked her to cook for him. When he didn't respond, she glanced back at him. He winked. It was the only answer he could give. And it was all she needed. She smiled.
"Are we still going to Bellagio, Lo? Just you and me?"
He pushed back from his chair and walked over to her. She was heating some pasta for his dinner. He eased his hands around her tummy and inhaled the jasmine smell of her hair. He closed his eyes to the lovely familiar scent of his woman. "Yes. We will leave in a few days. You and me. No work. No one."
She glanced up at him, and he kissed her full lips.
"I felt the baby kick today," she said softly.
Lorenzo’s eyes stretched. "You did? You sure?"
She nodded. "I wish you were with me."
He rubbed her belly with the cushion of her backside pressed into his groin. She was softest between her thighs. Her stomach was hard and grew harder by the day. Still, he loved the soft and hard spots of her body.
"Will my son kick again? Can you make him?"
"What if it's a girl?" she asked. “I’m serious, Lo. It could be a little girl.”
Lorenzo frowned. He had no use for little girls. He loved Eve, but he knew deep in his heart Gio would have to admit that he wished his sons were born first, not last. He didn't, however, share that with Marietta. She was very sensitive these days.
"I love our baby. No matter."
"Liar," she chuckled. "Get the chicken from the oven. The pasta is done."
He did as she said and stood at her side while she plated his food. She always made sure she piled on hefty portions. He loved Zia and Mirabella, but he was a slave to his wife's cooking. No other woman had her touch. Lorenzo’s gaze lifted to her reflection off the kitchen window. He stared at Marietta as she talked to him about her day. Isabella was wrong about their love. He didn't marry her out envy of Giovanni. He didn't choose her as a way to gain power and legitimacy. Marietta was the only woman in his life that filled the emptiness he carried. As he did for her. He would never lose focus of that. He would never lose her.
"Sit down. I'll bring it over," she said and wiped the back of her hand over her sweaty brow. He took her hand and stopped her. He forced her to turn and look at him.
"I love you," he said.
She frowned.
He lifted her chin. "You sit. Let me finish this."
She chuckled. "What's gotten into you?"
"I'm happy to be home with my wife," he said.
Her eyes stretched. He thought the surprise was over his confession. But she took his hand and put it on her belly. "Feel, feel right here, do you feel it, Lo?"
He felt a slight flutter.
"I think so," he said, not sure.
"Come," she said. She forced him to his knees. He put his face to her belly, and he held on to her hips. He waited. She stroked the top of his head. They stayed in the kitchen in silence. They both waited. And then he felt it. A tiny punch! Lorenzo suffered a heart seizure. He held his breath and prayed to feel it again. And he did. His bambino was kicking.
"Yes! Yes! I feel him! I do!" He looked up at her. To his surprise, he had tears in his eyes. She seemed alarmed at the sight of them. She lowered to her knees with her hands to his shoulders. The minute she was on his level, he hugged her to his heart. He kissed the side of her face. "I felt him, or her, I dunno. I felt my child."
She grinned. "I wish you were with me the first time. I was so surprised. We are going to be p
arents, Lo. I'm going to be a mother."
He cupped her face. Such a beautiful face. He moved her long ringlet curls aside and looked at her. He'd gut any man or enemy that tried to rob him of this happiness. She was a good wife. "Destino. This is our destiny. Our bambino."
"Bambina?" she smiled.
He nodded. "Bambini! Give me both a boy and a girl. Just give me a family of my own, Marie."
She hugged him. "I'll give you anything, Lo. I love you so much."
"Let's eat. Then I want to put you to bed." Lorenzo helped her from the floor. He walked her over to the small kitchen table and pulled out the chair. She sat down like a queen. He smiled. He had no worries. Not anymore. Just one mission. Find Isabella and rip the rotten bitch’s heart out. The last of his enemies. The only true guarantee for his family.
***
The car stopped.
It was darkest in this valley at night. Not even the moon could tell her where they were. Was this place where The Butcher took his victims? She removed her gun slowly from her purse. She held it low and waited. After a few minutes, car headlights drew closer. Adara couldn't see who arrived, but she eased the gun back into her purse. The men said something between them and then she heard the name: Delilah.
The other man who accompanied Carlo was named Umberto. He got out of the car and went to the boot.
"What is happening?" she asked.
He glanced at her again from the rearview mirror. "Ever been to America?" he asked.
"What?"
The boot of the car slammed down. Adara looked back. The woman who was dead or dying in the trunk was suddenly alive and vibrant. She stood there cursing at Umberto and trying to fix her dress. Carlo got out of the car. Confused Adara slid across the seat to see who he greeted. A man hugged him. They acted as if they were old friends. He had two women with him. She could tell because they were dressed like her and the dead girl. They both called out to their friend Delilah. The girls embraced.
From her seat, she couldn't see faces. But none of it made any sense.
The exchange was made, and Delilah rejoined her group as they went back to the car. Carlo and Umberto returned to theirs. Carlo threw the car in reverse and turned to back away. He glanced at her and winked, and then turned back around and swerved out to the dark road at a dangerous speed.