by Sienna Mynx
"You don't work for Baldamenti. Do you?"
"I said..."
"Malvo tells me you've been sniffing around him for about a week. Wanting a job. He says you aren't from around here. Not one of the regular Baldamenti girls."
"Then why are you letting me go?" she asked.
Carlo glanced over to Umberto. The two men exchanged a look that was hard to miss.
"Who said I was letting you go?" he stated.
"I don't understand," Adara replied.
Carlo chuckled. "You're coming with me."
"Wait. Wait, okay? I will tell you the truth," she said.
"I'm listening," said Carlo.
Umberto rolled his window down a bit and lit a cigarette. He seemed disinterested in the story. These men were toying with her. She knew it. It was time to be clever. Her life depended on it. She didn't have much intelligence on the man named Umberto. Out of all the men under Battaglia, he was the one who had no recorded past. The only distinct characterization the polizia had of him was the gold tooth to the bottom left the side of his mouth. Carlo, however, was different. As The Butcher, he had left a brutal trail of evidence of his savagery. And he had escaped prosecution for every one of his crimes. Adara would use the only card her superiors gave her to gain his trust. And she prayed it worked.
"I... ah," Adara couldn't keep the fear from her voice. It kept pitching when she tried to speak.
"Adara? That's your name?" he asked as if to help her. "You Italian or Greek?"
"Italian," she said.
He stared at her from the rearview mirror as he drove. She kept her eyes glued to his.
"So, you were going to tell me the truth?" Carlo said.
"I work for Baldamenti?"
"Convince me," he said.
"How?"
Carlo kept driving. Adara sighed.
"Alek Baldamenti hired me. He hates Antonio Malvo."
"Hired you for what?" Carlo asked.
"I don't know. He found me in Lunigiana. Brought me to Versilia and gave me the job. This job. To go to Malvo's club in Firenze. I was to be friendly with the girls and listen for a job of importance. Alek knows Malvo has girls who work for the rich. I didn't know it would be the senator. I thought that girl was dead. You put her in the trunk of the car. She looked dead to me."
"What does Alek Baldamenti want from Senator Banfi?"
"The same thing your boss evidently wants. Leverage. I was supposed to sleep with him, and then in the morning cry rape. Alek would get Malvo's business shut down, and probably a big payoff for my silence. That was the job."
Carlo kept driving.
Adara closed her eyes and waited. The one thing the Battaglias couldn't verify would be the motives and dealings of the Baldamentis. They hated each other. She had conveniently given the Butcher a story he could not confirm. After a ride in silence, she cleared her throat. Carlo never looked up to the rearview mirror to address her.
"Will you let me go?" she asked.
"Not my call. No worries, lovely. I will run your story past the boss. Until it's decided, you stay with me."
"What?" she frowned.
"You heard me. You were Alek Baldamenti’s, and then you were Malvo's. Now you're mine," Carlo smiled.
"The hell I am. I don't know that Delilah person. I don't know the senator. I just want this night to end."
"You'll learn very soon, Adara, that what you want doesn't matter to me."
To her surprise, Umberto turned in his seat and snatched her purse from her. She tried to hold on to it. She was stupid enough to put the gun back inside of it. But he caught her off guard. He ripped it from her hands and turned around.
"Give that back!" she hit his seat.
Carlo glanced over to his partner. The first thing Umberto pulled out of the purse was the gun. The men stared at it for a moment and then Carlo glanced up to the rearview mirror. "You had that all night?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't use it? Why?" he asked.
"For the same reason, you didn't check my purse, or search me. I have nothing to do with this. I carry it for protection."
Umberto emptied the clip and then let the window down and tossed the gun out into the night, while they coasted down a single lane highway into the valley. He rolled up the window and Adara stewed. It was a rookie mistake. She was a rookie and making plenty of them. They would eventually decide the only witness to their games was her. She had totally misread the night.
"I could have killed you. The both of you!" she said.
"If you say so," Carlo said.
"You don't care about dying?" she asked.
"We all die, eventually," Carlo countered his deadly gaze switched up to look at her in the rearview mirror once more. "Some sooner than others. Why fear death if it's inevitable?"
"There's nothing I can say to you to convince you to let me go. Is there?"
Carlo kept driving for a moment before he spoke. And then his gaze switched back up to the rearview mirror as he gave his one-word reply: "No."
Chapter Fifteen
Tears for Fears
Mondello Beach, Sicily
She wept. At the foot of her mother's grave, she clutched a tiny silver tape cassette recorder. Her thumb pressed rewind and then pressed play over and over again until it felt as if her fingers would cramp. How could he do it? How could he think it? Patri raised Lorenzo like a son. Why would Lorenzo want him dead? It's not true. It's not true. It's not true! Her mind screamed. But her heart absorbed the confession and knew the truth.
The pain and grief she carried over her father's shooting had never actually healed. In this life, a woman like her with a brother, cousins, uncles and a father like Tomosino was expected to accept such grief. And she had. Until now. The mere thought of such an act of betrayal by one of the people she trusted gutted her. Catalina closed her eyes and squeezed them shut. It was his voice. She could hear it crystal clear. He laughed. The fucking demon laughed and joked over the many ways to kill Patri. He even mocked Giovanni. What was this nightmare she found herself trapped in?
Armando wasn't keen on kindness or empathy, however, breaking his sweet and beautiful Catalina's heart was hard to bear. He took a step forward, and a twig snapped under his foot. Her heated glare swung over her shoulder and nailed him. She slowly stood and faced him. Her delicate fingers fiddled with the release button on the recorder. She snatched out the tape and a dark, sinister smile lifted the right corner of her mouth. He watched as she tossed aside the cassette player and went to her mother's tombstone. She picked up a rock and smashed the stone against the tiny plastic tape over and over again until it was nothing but shards of plastic and ribbon.
She cursed in her native tongue. She cursed him. She cursed Lorenzo. She cursed God for allowing the unthinkable to befall upon her family. Her long curls covered her face as she smashed and slammed the rock over and over on the tombstone. The fire in her was undeniable. His deadly princess wanted blood. And all he wanted was more of her.
"Do you understand what that is?" his voice croaked. The emotion he heard escape his lips embarrassed him. If she paid close attention, she'd see his weakness for her and seize the moment. But his princess was too caught up in her fury to notice. He cleared his throat and spoke again with the same baritone manner he commanded over those he wanted to control. "Piccoletta? Do you know what it means if Giovanni was ever to hear that tape?" he asked.
"He will never hear it!" she shouted at him. "Do you hear me? Devil! Never!" she swore.
Her face was flushed red, and her cheeks wet with tears. She turned on him with her chest heaving and her breasts rising and falling. Clutched in one hand was the rock. The other hand was curled tight into a fist. Her hair covered one side of her face now, but her striking eyes gleamed like the moon. He knew it might be considered sadistic to be aroused by her angry defiance. But damn it to hell he had an erection. This was the type of woman he liked. Finding such a beautiful creature in his life was rare. Strong and full
of fire. The way the moon cast shadows and light over her held him hypnotized.
"That tape isn't my only copy, Catalina," he said.
"What do you want? Marietta is your sister. She loves Lorenzo. She's pregnant for Christ’s sake. That tape will get him killed."
"That's not why you're angry. Is it? You just heard Lorenzo order the murder of your sweet Papa. He betrayed you. Didn't he? And that betrayal hurts, it cuts, it burns, doesn't it?"
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
"He betrays Giovanni at every turn. He doesn't care about my sisters. He doesn't care about family or loyalty. He only thirsts for power. You heard him say it. What did his killing Giuseppe Calderone do to your brother? I will tell you. It made him a monster. A baby killer. A man even more terrible than me," he chuckled.
"Shut up!" she dropped the rock. Catalina put both of her hands to her ears. Was she blocking his words or the voices in her head? The ones that whispered the same truth he tried to share.
Armando dared to step closer.
"Tell me who the tears are for, piccoletta?" he said. He was within reach of her now. He touched her hair. The silky strands felt softer than a feather. He wanted to feel more of her. "Are you crying for Lorenzo's death or the death of your brother?"
She lifted her head, and those round soulful eyes of hers locked on him.
He smiled. "Because that tape will kill Giovanni. After he destroys everything and everyone around him. Won't it?" He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek and moved her hair away.
She knocked his touch away. She wiped her tears and stared him directly in the eye. This time, she didn't snarl or sneer. Instead, she smiled at him. And once again he was disarmed by her beauty. He had to summon all of his inner strength to chain the beast in him that wanted to take her. The demon in him that hated the propriety and thirsted for the pleasure of a woman like her. Even if she fought him, he wanted to take her. And that scared him.
"The tears are for your stupidity," she spoke. "When my brother hears that tape and knows you have been keeping it, he will kill you first, and slowly."
Armando clasped his hands behind his back. He pretended at patience. He waited for her to speak again. He'd already given her the bait.
"I want the tapes! You hear me? All of them! I want them!" She reached under her dress and drew a gun. The action was so swift he barely caught a glimpse of her thigh or the garter strap she wore. The gun, a small black one, was pointed at his face. Only a few centimeters from his nose.
"I want the fucking tapes," she said.
"Then you'll have to shoot me to get them."
"I'll kill you. I will kill you!" she shouted.
"Pull the trigger," he whispered.
They stood in silence for several long minutes. Her hand didn't shake. It didn't waver. Her finger caressed the trigger. And he knew his sweet, lovely piccoletta would kill him to save her family. She only had to figure out how to do it and survive the night.
"Catalina!" The voice from the distance shouted her name, and it was carried to them in the ocean wind. It sounded familiar. When his gaze turned to look to the forest, he expected to see her hero arriving on a white horse. Instead, he heard her name called once more. He looked back to Catalina. She was tucking the gun back into the garter belt that was tight around her shapely thigh. She lowered her dress and stepped back from him with renewed disgust. But not before she glanced into his eyes once more. He was certain this time she saw through his bravado. Finally, she saw the lust, insatiable desire, and adoration he carried for her. To his disappointment, she recoiled.
"Go," she told him. "Go Before Domi gets here," she said.
"Are we done?" he asked. And his breath held as he waited for her reply.
"What do you want for the tapes?" she answered.
He smiled.
"Catalina!" Dominic yelled. And he sounded closer.
"Go! I'll call you. Just go!" she pleaded.
"Let's stay in touch," he said, and he walked away. At last, he was able to breathe.
***
Catalina wanted to scream. She should have shot him. God help her, but she was damn close to pulling the trigger. Why didn't she kill him? He walked off toward the forest, and within minutes disappeared into the darkness between the trees. She turned and wiped her tears the best she could. On top of her mother's grave was the smashed remnants of that tape. Catalina hurried over and tried to swipe the crumbles away just as Dominic came rushing in from the east side of the forest nearest to the beaches.
"Catalina? What the fuck is going on?"
She turned and put her back to the grave. One look at Dominic and her spirit broke. She rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck. His strong arms folded around her and she could feel his heart racing against hers. Heart to heart they embraced. Her face buried against the side of his neck. His face was pressed against the side of her head. She inhaled his strong cologne and manly scent. Suddenly the world didn't seem so frightening when holding on to him. She felt safe again.
"You're shivering. What the hell are you doing out here alone?" He forced her to loosen her grip and step back so he could look her over. Besides the tears, she knew she appeared physically the same. Too bad Dominic didn't have x-ray vision to see how tattered her heart was. When she lowered her eyes with shame, he grabbed her cheeks and forced her to look up into his.
"Answer me, cara! What are you doing out here alone?"
The moment her lips parted to speak she wept.
"Catalina?" He drew her back into his embrace. He stroked her back. "Tell me what it is. What happened?"
"I just... it's because of, he, I dunno how, why, I wish..." she stammered.
She could feel him looking around to see if they were alone. She had to pull herself together. If Dominic found out the truth, there was no way he wouldn't kill Lorenzo himself. The death and destruction would be the end of their family. She knew it.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Domi," she broke from hsi hold. She stepped back and put a hand to her forehead. She had to catch her breath. Dominic stared at her, and she could see his concern mounting. "I came here to visit Madre’s grave. To pray, and it came over me. I miss her and Patri so much."
Dominic nodded in agreement and his eyes misted over with shared emotion. "You know not to come out here at night alone. Why didn't you tell me you were coming to Sicilia? You were supposed to leave for Paris!"
"Mirabella changed the plans. She wanted me to come and meet with Francesca. To take Rosetta to Paris with me."
"Damn it! You should have told me! Asked me! You go too far, Catalina! Too far with this designing business! Giovanni is going to be furious. I haven't even told him that you are here."
"Stop yelling at me!" she shouted back.
"I will yell at you if I damn well please! It is dangerous now! Very dangerous!"
"How would I know that? You men never tell us anything. Sicily is as much my home as Sorrento. Since when is it dangerous for me to come here?!"
Dominic paced. Then he stopped. His head tilted a bit to the left, and his gaze was frozen to the ground. He knelt and picked up the cassette recorder.
"What is this?" he asked.
"I dunno," she said. She glanced to the forest. Deep in the woods she knew Armando was there. Listening, and watching. She could feel him staring at her.
"Let's go back to the villa. I'm tired."
"Were you out here alone?" Dominic’s gaze swept the forest again. He looked at the cassette tape player. She knew that it didn't look weathered. There was no way it could have been here for more than a few hours in the grass and not have some sign of the elements.
"Wait! Oh! Yes, that's mine!" she walked over and took it.
"Yours?" Dominic asked.
"Yes. I um, keep it with me to record my thoughts. Sometimes I get inspired. I dropped it when I got upset."
"I've never seen you with it," Dominic said and his gaze narrowed on her.
"It's for work. How ofte
n do you pay attention to my job?"
"Where's the cassette?" he asked.
"Huh?" she looked down at the player.
"It's empty. Where is the..." He glanced over to the tombstone and saw the shattered tape cassette crumbles, and at the foot of the grave was the ribbon and some plastic shards. Before she could come up with a plausible explanation, Dominic approached the damaged tape and inspected it. "Explain this, Catalina."
She wasn't good at lying to him. Not since Franco did she lie to him. She did her best to be a good person. Why was Armando making her into a liar? She glared at the forest and then to Dominic. She had less than five seconds to explain herself, or Dominic would order the forest swept by his men. And they would find Armando. Once they did all their lives would be in jeopardy.
"When I came here I was recording my thoughts. And then I started talking to Madre. It pisses me off she is buried out here alone. Look at her grave, Domi. If we have to leave Sicily, no one will come to visit her. No one will care. And the roses. Who will make sure the blue roses never die? She should be with Patri!" Catalina wept as she opened a barely healed wound for him. The tears were sincere, and so was her torment.
"I got angry and smashed the tape."
He tossed the damaged tape and walked back over to her. She hugged him once more. She stared over his shoulder into the forest. And the forest stared back. She shivered.
"I'm scared, Domi. I'm so scared that we will never have peace in our lives. That we will never be able to live normal lives."
"We will, Catalina. Trust me. Giovanni works toward peace every day."
"But you said we are at war?" she let him go.
"And after war comes peace, cara." He touched the side of her face. "We are leaving tonight. The family is being relocated back to Melanzana. Everyone is coming. And when this is over you and I will come back here, and be married in Madre's garden of blue roses. Not a church. Right here. For her to see."