by Sienna Mynx
Milan –
He’d waited for an hour before the door to David Capriccio’s office slowly opened. Carlo, with his gun raised, pushed it wider and their eyes met. Lorenzo sat back and waited for him to enter. He did. Carlo noticed David on the ground by the overturned chair. His blood and brain matter splattered over the wall behind him.
“Is it Capriccio?” Carlo started, then his voice trailed off when his head turned. The gun he carried slowly lowered and he went still at the sight of Carmine. Lorenzo expected his friend to react. After all, the kid was his favorite. But what happened next pulled the floor out from beneath him. Carlo dropped his gun and went to his knees. Lorenzo sat up. He’d seen his friend upset. The death of his mother and younger sister years ago broke him. He had only one sister left, and a father who he hadn’t spoken to or seen in years. A low tortured groan escaped him, as he crawled to Carmine and brought his lifeless body into his arms.
“I, I found him like that. Carlo? Carlo?”
Lorenzo stood. “The kid was supposed to wait for me. Keep Capriccio down. I walked in and they were in a struggle. Capriccio shot him and I knocked him to the chair. He went for his gun and I killed the bastard. It all went wrong.”
Carlo wiped the blood from Carmine’s face. Lorenzo had planned the entire scene. To kill David Capriccio without Giovanni’s consent, would ensure his cousin’s wrath. He wasn’t sure how to stage it until backed into a corner with Carmine, knowing his secret.
“David was hiding things from Giovanni. Carmine discovered it. Those papers over there are money deals he kept off the books. They are tied to Bonaduce and Calderone. You would have been proud of the kid. He did a good job.”
Carlo struggled to rise with Carmine. “What the fuck are you doing, Carlo?”
“Get out of my way!” He yelled at him.
Lorenzo had to stop him. “You can’t take him out the front fucking door. Leave him. We’ll send the boys to collect him. Bring him back to Napoli where we can deal with it properly.”
Carlo dropped Carmine and charged Lorenzo. Taken by surprise, Lorenzo was thrown back into the wall. Carlo hit him hard under the chin and then the gut. Unable to recover, he was pinned with his friend choking him. Lorenzo struggled to break free but madness and grief had a strong hold on Carlo. He hit him in the side three times hard and fast, causing some of his strength to break. Lorenzo managed to toss him off.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lorenzo shouted at him, holding the sore area of his throat. Carlo went for the door and was out of it. Shocked, Lorenzo looked to the dead body of Carmine, then back to the door. He couldn’t figure it out.
*****
“Signor, we have a bed for you now.” A nun whispered in his ear. Giovanni lifted his head from the pillow. He had been so emotionally wrecked, he fell asleep with her. The cramp in his neck expanded to his spine, when he sat up to see one of his men had brought in food. He hadn’t eaten and his stomach was twisted into a tight pretzel knot with hunger. He nodded his thanks to the nun.
“I need to make a call, to America. Is there a phone I can use?” He asked, setting his feet down on the side of the bed.
“Yes, I can take you.”
“Giovanni?” Mira turned over. She reached for him. Her hand gently went down his back.
“You feeling okay?”
“I’m hungry,” she admitted.
Rising, he picked up the carton from the dresser and brought it over to her with silverware. Pasta and what looked like fish. She sat up as he eased the tray on wheels to her to eat off of. “Eve? Have you checked on her?” Mira asked.
“Not yet. I’ll go get her in the morning and bring her here. That’ll make you worry less.”
She smiled. “No. Don’t bring her here. I don’t want her to see me in the hospital.”
“I’ll check on her all the same. I need to make a call, Bella. I’ll be back. Okay?”
“You staying the night? Maybe you should go home to Eve. She might be upset that we’re both gone.”
“I’ll make sure she is okay. But I’m not leaving you alone tonight. Eat up.”
She nodded and ate with a forced smile; and he forced his legs to move, to leave her. Following the nun out of the room, she brought him to an office. He was given the code to dial out and he waited for her to close the door. He sat down behind the desk and called the hotel in America.
“Hello?” Dominic asked, his voice groggy with the need of sleep.
“When do you return?” Giovanni asked.
“Two days. I need to take care of a few things, and then I’ll be on a flight out.”
“Something more important than you telling me my wife is the daughter of Marsuvio Mancini?” Giovanni asked through clenched teeth.
“We need facts, Gio. I plan to bring them to you. I shouldn’t have blurted that out on the phone without them. Also, I plan to get everything in order to make sure your business interests are okay. Trust me.”
“The problem is, I don’t trust you.”
Silence settled between them.
“There is something else. I met with Kei Hyogo. He’s returning to China on a voluntary extradition. He’s made threats.”
“I can handle him.”
“Against Mira and Eve.”
The comment set his teeth on edge. Giovanni reclined back. “Then he’s a dead man.”
“Exactly why I need these two days to ensure it.”
“Fine. Two days. I have Mira to think about and I can’t deal with this shit until then. Don’t breathe a word of any of this to anyone in the family.”
“Never.” Dominic said. “Giovanni, I will do everything to protect Mira for you. I can be the consigliere you need. If you give me a chance.”
Giovanni hung up on him. He rocked back in his chair. He would focus on Mira, and making her stronger. Whatever story Domi had to tell, he didn’t want to hear it. Not now.
Chapter Thirteen
Destino - Destiny
Three Days Later –
“She’s missed having her mother to herself,” Giovanni said.
It was as if her daughter knew what had happened. Eve hadn’t let go of Mira since they were reunited. Mira held Eve snug to her chest, feeling stronger from her baby girl’s need for mothering. She kissed her constantly, babied her, and fulfilled her mommy duties. She was so grateful for so many things.
“Do you know that when Eve first saw me, she gave me her pacifier? Insisted that I give it a suck. It’s the most treasured possession she has and she gave it to me. Isn’t that sweet? You wanted to make Mama feel better, didn’t you baby?”
“She has your heart, and your beauty.” Giovanni smiled.
Today, Mira felt no fear. It was a welcomed change. For two days, she’d lived in a constant state of worry over losing the life they created, this love, and their family. Their baby meant more to them than either dared say aloud. Even now, she and Giovanni avoided the discussion over how close she came to a miscarriage. Talking as if they knew this miracle would come. It had turned them from open communication towards a game of pretend that the threat of a miscarriage didn’t still lurk in the shadows of their minds. Mira exhaled and refused to give in to worry. Two of her husband’s fingers traced down the side of her cheek under her chin. Mira loved when he touched her this way.
“You are better, Bella. So is our bambino. Right?”
“Yes.” Mira agreed. “The doctor said I was dehydrated. I know I was a bit overwhelmed and stressed with everything that has happened the past month. I will take better care of myself.”
“That’s my job,” he winked.
The car made the slow drive through the narrow streets of Sorrento, turning the stone shoulders of limestone buildings with laundry hanging from the upstairs windows. Sorrento was a quiet, innocent little town out of step with the rest of the hurried bustle of major cities. Each day, it felt more like home.
Giovanni stretched his eyes to ward off fatigue. He’d barely slept while watching
over her each night until he could bring her out of the hospital. He was tired and ready for home. Before they released Mira, they heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time. It was strong, just like his wife.
“Have you spoken to Catalina and Domi? I was wondering how they were doing.”
“They return today. My surprise for you.”
“So soon?” Mira sounded disappointed. He knew she expected them to stay tangled in her business affairs for weeks. But Dominic was needed here. He didn’t bother to explain why.
“Things are going well. Soon you will have your company again. And I will have my dressmaker again, creating pretty dresses to seduce me.”
Mira laughed. “Will you be easy to seduce when I’m big as a whale? I gained forty pounds with Eve.” Their daughter lifted her head at the sound of her name. She blinked up at her mother and then pressed her face back to her breast.
“I love my, Bella, curves and all,” Giovanni reassured her.
The car eased to a crawl as it passed through the gates of Melanzana. Everyone knew she’d been in the ospedale. Giovanni had accepted only one visitor, Santo. It was a necessary business exchange. Other than the brief meeting, every moment was spent at her side. Today she looked rested and radiant, just as she did the day she drove out of the gates to be his bride.
“Look, baby. Look who’s waiting,” Mira turned Eve in her lap. Eve blinked and stared out past the smoky tinted window. Zia clasped her hands over her mouth. You’d think they’d been apart months instead of a week. “You have missed your Zia haven’t you?” Mira laughed.
“And I hear she’s missed her too.” Giovanni added.
The car barely rolled to a stop before Zia was at the door, pulling hard on the handle to open it. Eve stretched her arms out, bouncing on Mira’s lap. Mira set her down and Eve went to the door as soon as Zia stuck her hand in.
“Gio, Mira, so glad you’re home. You were missed. Ciao bella mia, Evie.” She took her into her arms and lifted her out of the car.
“Well, that’s settled then.” Mira smiled. “We’re home.”
“Wait.” Giovanni placed his hand on hers. “Will you be embarrassed if I carry my wife inside?”
“I can walk. I’m not fragile.”
“It’s not that. I want to carry you in because I want this time to be different than all the others. You are my wife now.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “Then I say, let’s get carried away, shall we?”
Napoli –
Lorenzo stalked through the wine bar to the back rooms. He shoved open double doors and entered a dim corridor with a low sagging ceiling that had a dark unhealthy reek. The single, tiny, airless room full of dust and shadows was crowded with twelve-foot- tall wine racks and barrels stacked in cramped corners. He could hear the shouting jeers of a rambunctious crowd behind the wooden door to the back. The stench of male sweat, wine, and cigarillos greeted him first when he opened the door. This would be the third place he’d visited out of six, and he hoped his last. One of Carlo’s whores swore this is where he’d gone off to. After two days of searching for him, he was exhausted and angry. He hadn’t even paid proper respect to Giovanni and Mira.
The men shouted. ‘Hit him again’ another yelled, ‘Take him down’ in Italian. Lorenzo stood taller than most. But the moving crowd made it hard to see the two in combat. He shoved a few out of his way and several others parted out of respect. Circling the dusty wood floor was Carlo, shirtless, bleeding from the face. He swung his massive fist at the fighter and missed. He swung again and connected. The man’s head snapped back, nearly detaching from his shoulders. But he recovered quickly. He took a swing and landed it on Carlo’s jaw. His friend sprayed the crowd with blood from his mouth and nostrils. The two men locked in arms, circled, and broke free. Carlo must have seized another gust of strength and energy. This time, he landed several consecutive punches to his opponent’s face and chest before he drove the poor fool to his knees. The man dropped and sagged forward after a hard slap. Carlo then grabbed the man by the hair and wrapped his arm around his neck to give a hard twist. Even over the laughter of the men, Lorenzo could hear the bones in the man’s neck snap. Everyone cheered. To the death, these matches went. And his boy looked like he wanted the reaper to pay him a visit next.
The ring master proclaimed Carlo the winner. The men started paying out bets and Carlo was given a jug of wine for his reward. He turned it up and knocked those cheering him on out of the way. Lorenzo followed. Carlo walked into a bathroom with just a sink and toilet. The walls were brown and stained, the floor soaked in blood and excrement. He sat the jug of wine in the crusty sink and spat clots of blood in the dirty toilet.
“So, you go missing for three days and this is what you’ve been doing?”
“Why the fuck are you here?” he answered with disinterest.
Lorenzo closed the door, cutting off his escape. Carlo leaned against the wall with his hands pressed flat and arms extended. His head bowed, he spat again in the toilet.
“It’s fucked up. The cugine died.” Lorenzo said.
“On your watch.”
“Still, he’s dead. Why cry over it?” Lorenzo fired back.
“He had a fucking name.” Carlo nearly snarled.
“And?”
“Say it! Say his fucking name!” Carlo slammed his fist into the wall, causing the plaster to split and crack deeply.
“What the hell is the matter with you? Since when does a cugine get this kind of mourning from us?”
Carlo laughed, and his laughter sounded close to madness. He turned and Lorenzo was sure his best friend had indeed gone mad. “Since when? When the sorry fucker is my baby brother.”
“Your brother?”
Carlo turned and dropped on the toilet. “Fucking kid’s a bastard, one of many my father left behind. I collect my father’s bastards and turn them into men.” Carlo chuckled. “My sister told me about Carmine when the carabiniere snatched him up for robbing some tourists. He’d been living on the streets after his mother died. Stealing. Running with the fucking gypsies. Doing whatever he could to survive.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
A deep sigh escaped Carlo. “I never told Carmine. I got the kid out of his trouble and told him he’d be my shadow. I offered to make him a man. Something our papa never did. I wanted him to stand on his own two feet. That’s why I brought him in. I was going to protect him. I swear it. He was ready. I swear he was. I know he was.” Carlo choked down the rest of his tale, in a voice clogged with emotion. “That’s why I gave him to you. Only to make him tougher so Gio would see his merit. I fucking pushed him too soon. He should have disarmed Capriccio first. First! First! First!” Carlo pounded his fist into his hand. “I told him this! He knew the play. Why didn’t he do it? I was wrong. I killed him.”
Lorenzo had really screwed this one up. He didn’t know what to say to his friend. So, he said nothing. The only reason Carmine was dead was because his best friend had trusted the life of his brother to his killer.
Carlo wiped the blood and tears from his eyes. “Get the fuck out. Leave me to it.”
“It went down bad. If I had known who he was I…”
“What? What could you have done? Carmine took a bullet like the one waiting for each of us. Right? This is my fuck up not yours.”
“Listen to me. You need to clean yourself up. Giovanni is back. He’ll send for us soon. I even heard that Domi is returning early. I need you to be on your feet.”
Carlo reached over to the sink and grabbed the jug of wine.
Lorenzo couldn’t drag him out. He couldn’t convince a drunkard to put down the bottle. What the fuck could he do?
“You want to die?”
“That’s the point.” Carlo chuckled, taking another swig.
“Fine. Then fight me. Andiamo!”
Carlo blinked at him. Lorenzo opened the door. He shed his suit jacket and started to unbutton his shirt. Carlo stumbled out looking at him, co
nfused. “Get the fuck out of here. I’m not going to kill you, Lo.”
Lorenzo smirked. “Oh, I know you aren’t. A drunken piece of shit like you could never take me down. But I sure as hell won’t let one of these bastards put an end to you. If you want to fight, die, then I’ll send you to the grave.”
He walked out to the open floor. A hush moved through the crowd. Two high ranking capus in the Battaglia family, waging war amongst these men, was something none had ever seen.
It was blasphemous.
Carlo stumbled out. His eyes bloodshot, his senses drowned by alcohol. How he remained standing was a mystery. Lorenzo removed his shirt and tossed it just as his best friend charged him. They both went crashing to the floor. The hard smack to the back of his skull almost caused him to black out. But Carlo’s vicious hold on his throat kept him alive. He rolled and broke free. The two of them got to their feet with their fists ready. Carlo snarled at him; blood or wine staining his teeth and tongue red. Lorenzo smirked in response. He’d been in enough childhood fights with Carlo to know him in and out. And with the booze diluting his senses, he was given the advantage. Carlo took a swing and Lorenzo caught his fist. He swung up and under. He could feel Carlo weaken but he didn’t give him a break. Taking hold of his throat, he slammed his fist into his face, until he lost consciousness. The beating was savage but quick. Lorenzo prayed he hadn’t killed the fool. The others looked around in stunned silence, wondering if he did.
With Carlo out cold, he seized advantage. Grabbing him up, he heaved him to his feet. “Two men! Now. Put him in my car!”
Two men rushed over and took an unconscious Carlo from him while Lorenzo fetched his suit jacket, shirt, and weapon. He followed them out. He had to get Carlo sobered and healed. Then they could possibly salvage the day, before Giovanni put an end to them both.
*****
Mira walked through the halls, reminiscing over the first time she had entered Melanzana. She had only been gone a week and it felt like a lifetime. The time in that hospital bed drained her so much she actually began to long for home. And to her surprise, Melanzana had become just that—home.