by Sienna Mynx
Carlo stood over the dying boy. He stared down at him with his gun aimed at the young man’s face but he soon realized that the shot between the fucker’s eyes would be too merciful so he aimed lower. He wanted him to feel more pain that the scores of women he tortured and killed had. He wanted him to wiggle and squirm like a dying fish on the concrete. He wanted his justice before the runt was sent as express delivery to hell. He kicked the leg of the bastard so he would open his eyes and see him.
The kid looked up dazed at first and groaned in agony. Then it came. Clarity shifted in the young man’s eyes and his face deadpanned at the sight of Carlo with the gun. Instead of begging for mercy or whimpering an explanation the young man smiled. His teeth were both knocked loose and covered in blood. And even more blood spilled from the side of his mouth.
“Carlo,” the fucker croaked. “Good to see you again!”
Carlo shot the kid in the foot. The boy howled in agony. He blew out both of the murderer’s knee caps. He then smiled as the boy screamed for mercy. He aimed at his groin. The first two shots didn’t kill him. Carlo was disappointed when the third did. Carlo shredded the freak’s groin with all the bullets left in his gun. The clip emptied and Carlo dropped the gun. One of the boys who were hiding from Carlo earlier was among the spectators. Another one of them picked up the gun and ran with it. Carlo didn’t notice. In a trance of grief and disbelief, he walked over to Adara who lay in the street lifeless. The crowd parted. He scooped her limp body into his arms and headed back to the home she made for him and his son. He heard sirens in the distance. He heard women crying and others shouting that he was Camorra and to stay away. A few even called him the Butcher. He didn’t care. He needed to take her inside. To keep her safe, with his son.
“MOMMA? WHEN DO WE GO ?” Eve asked from the table. Everyone eating kept on with their meal. Even her little precious daughter in her arms sucked her pacifier in contentment.
“Momma!”
“Eve?” Mirabella replied. “Tomorrow. We’ll go tomorrow.”
“But you said we could visit the schools today. You promised.”
“I know, sweetheart. I called the schools and we have to set appointments. You have your appointments to see them tomorrow.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“Yay!” Eve threw up her hands as if she’d won a championship. Mirabella shook her head smiling. More food was brought to the table. Cecilia was up and serving not only Nico but also the twins. Ella admonished her and told her to sit. She took on serving the family. Mirabella enjoyed her family the most at meal time. Then the soft grumble of thunder sounded in the distance. She glanced out to the gardens at the storm clouds forming. It had been raining a lot lately. She wanted today to be a day of sunshine. It would be a welcome relief from the pending dread she carried since she left Sicily. All she could sense was death. And it made her weak with fear.
“Donna? Scusi? You have a—”
“Where is she? I must speak to her now!” screamed a woman in distress. Everyone on the terrace fell silent. Mirabella saw Arielle running towards her. She had broken free of the men. Her face was covered in tears and her makeup smeared. She shouted accusations at Mirabella in Italian and English.
“Nico!” Mirabella said. She didn’t have too. Nico was already up and handling the woman. Cecilia came over to take the baby from Mirabella and Belinda and Kyra saw to the kids. They were ushered in the house. Arielle’s screams were so torturous they made her words unclear.
“What is it?” Mirabella asked her men over the hysteria. A few had a look of shock on their faces.
“Someone tell me what the hell is going on!”
Leo was brave enough to approach.
“Donna, it’s Carlo and Adara,” he said.
“Dead! Dead!” Arielle screamed.
“Carlo, Adara who they’re dead?” Mirabella looked to Nico for an explanation. His eyes were stretched with horror as well. He clearly didn’t know.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. We can’t get much out of her. I think they’re both dead.”
“Jesus,” Mirabella went to Arielle. She forced Nico to let her hold the woman. Arielle clung to Mirabella and wailed in agony. “Nico! Find out what the fuck is going on!” Mirabella shouted at him. He bolted inside. She too was crying. She held Arielle as the woman’s agonizing pain was shared with everyone. She could do nothing but rock with her in her arms. Death was coming. But it wasn’t supposed to come this way.
“Donna!” Nico returned. “Carlo is in jail. I heard from one of his men. They said they took him away. A neighbor has the baby.”
“He killed my Adara. He killed her!” Arielle wept.
“No, he wouldn’t do that. He loved her. Nico? Is Adara dead?”
Nico nodded. “I don’t know what happened. We’re trying to figure it out. I think he might... something bad has happened.”
“We have to go to Naples. Now. Leo, take Arielle and get her something strong to drink. I’ll get dressed. Bring the cars. I want ten men with us! Ten!”
“Donna, we can handle it,” Nico said. “You don’t have to deal with it personally.”
“No!” Mirabella said through tears. “No, I’ll handle this. I want all my best men with me. Carlo didn’t kill her, but whoever did better damn well be dead before I get there.” She said and stormed past the men.
CARLO SAT IN A CELL with six other men. All of them stayed far from him. He hadn’t spoken since he arrived. He stared at his hands. His hands were stained red with Adara’s blood. Time came and went and he didn’t move. Not to piss, not to sleep. He sat still.
She was dead. And so was he.
When he carried her inside of their home and laid her in their bed he took the time to clean her face of blood. His son wailed from his bassinet but he didn’t hear him. He cleaned her the best he could. The gash to the right side of her head and crushed in left eye socket. It didn’t, however, change her beauty. She looked angelic. He got on his knees at the side of the bed and he prayed. The prayer taught to him by his mother to repent against his sins. He prayed for her resurrection though he knew God would never grant such a wish. He prayed for forgiveness to a God who never gave him a chance at redemption. And he realized that he was soulless and unworthy of the prayer. So prayed he for death.
The polizia found him on his knees praying with his son wailing from his bassinet. It took four of them with batons to bring him down and drag him from his home. He was thrown in the back of a wagon where he took out his rage on another captured prisoner. He wasn’t sure but he might have broken the man’s neck. They then hurled him into the cell. It looked like all the other jail cells he’d spent his life behind. And it was here he belonged.
“Carlo Giordano,” the guard said.
Carlo didn’t move. He sat with his shoulders slumped and his eyes fixed on the blood on his hands.
“Don’t make me come in there to get you, inmate,” the guard warned.
Carlo lifted his gaze only a fraction of an inch. Enough to see the guard’s shoes. He didn’t move but if the guard did he’d be stepping into his death.
“Your black Donna is here. Do you want to see her or not?”
The request cleared the fog. Carlo again couldn’t register the time. If Mirabella had come, then that meant much more time had passed than he thought. Maybe it meant he was wrong. Maybe Adara was alive and she had come to tell him the news. His head slowly lifted. The guard smirked. Carlo stood. His leg muscles cramped and tensed. He’d been seated in the same position for far too long.
The guard led him down a long hall of holding cells toward the front of the jail. Many of the inmates came to the jail bars to watch him pass them by. Several were brave enough to chant his name. It was a name only known to those in la Camorra . He saw several armed officers gathered to greet him. He willed himself to be sane. His anger would do him no good now.
Carlo was taken to a door and then his handcuffs we
re unlocked. The door was opened by a guard before him who gave him a leveled glare as a warning to behave before he was allowed to pass. Arielle was standing. Mirabella looked up from her seat and stood. Nico was with them. It was Arielle who ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
“They told me what happened! Carlo? Adara, my sweet girl is gone. How did you let this happen?”
He looked to Mirabella but held Arielle while she wept and beat her fists against his chest for answers. His only goal was to remain sane. Arielle realized he wasn’t returning her embrace. She let him go. “Say something damn it,” Arielle wept.
“Arielle, please. Let us speak to him.” Mirabella said.
Arielle paced away with her hands in her hair and mumbles of pain over her loss.
“There was evidence of a struggle. The authorities think she fought with her attacker. That is why they fell from the window. Witnesses refuse to cooperate to identify the shooter. They aren’t able to find a gun,” Nico said.
“That’s enough,” Mirabella said. “We won’t discuss it further here without lawyers.”
Nico nodded. Arielle covered her face and cried. Mirabella approached. Carlo stared at her but didn’t offer any explanation. And then Mirabella said something that explained it all. “You’re in shock, aren’t you sweetheart?” Mirabella touched his face.
Shock? Is that what they called it? All he knew was he had to try to remain sane, because if he didn’t bad things would happen. Namely he’d kill everyone in sight.
Mirabella sighed. “We have to go before the judge to get you released on bail. They said you hurt someone in the transport van. The man is refusing to give details on his injuries.” Mirabella glanced back at Nico. “They think it’s because his neck is broken and he can’t speak. But he may speak eventually Carlo. We know you are innocent.”
“Is she... dead?” Carlo heard himself ask.
Arielle whirled around to the question. All three of them stared at Carlo as if the question was proof of insanity. He stood there waiting and dreading the truth.
“Carlo. You found her. You saw her,” Mirabella reminded him.
“Is she dead?” he asked again.
“She’s gone!” Arielle shouted at him. “My girl is gone! Why didn’t you protect her! Why? You’re the fucking butcher and you couldn’t save her! What has she ever done to deserve this? What? How did you let this happen! Answer me!”
Nico kept Arielle from coming at him. Carlo blinked at Arielle’s accusations and then turned his attention to Mirabella.
“Is she dead?” he asked Mirabella.
“Yes. Yes, Carlo, she’s dead. Your son is alive. She protected him. Now you have to. I’m not going anywhere... I won’t leave this city, until we can take you home. Understood? A day or longer, we are here.”
Carlo looked to his friend and Arielle who stared at him with hatred. He shook his head in grief and turned away. He rather rot in his jail cell and wait for the devil to come. It was what Abedi had promised him in the end. Death.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Death At Sea
Unknown
“YOU HAVE TO EAT,” MARIETTA pleaded. She pushed the bowl of soup from a can to him. Lorenzo smiled. A day later he felt reborn. Yes, his body hurt, and the swelling had changed from red marks to purple and black bruises peppering his face. Though he couldn’t open his left eye, he felt stronger, mentally. It would take his mental strength not the physical to face Giovanni.
The men were topside. The doors up and out of the boat were bolted shut. They had their privacy but no escape. Lorenzo scooped up canned stew and slurped from the spoon. His wife turned her gaze back to the smoky tinted windows. She disappeared into her troubled thoughts.
“Even with the bullshit scraps left for us you are still the best cook I’ve ever known Marie.”
“Grazie, Lorenzo ,” Marietta said.
“You know we should have opened a restaurant. It would be a restaurant that served American black people food. The tourists would have loved the way you prepared it. You could have run it. And our baby girl could help you cook. That’s what I should have done for you, Marie.”
“Stop speaking in the past tense. Besides, my life dream isn’t to be your cook.”
“I only meant—”
She laughed.
“I know what you meant. We still can do all of those things, Lo. It’s not over. Like you said, we’re alive. Giovanni is keeping us alive. And no matter how angry he is, Mirabella would never sit back and let him kill us. She wouldn’t. She’s my twin for God’s sake.”
Lorenzo continued to eat. His wife had no real understanding of their world. The pardon they were given was only because the bullet for him had to come from Giovanni’s gun. It was their way. The only plan he had left was the one to secure the safety and financial protection of his wife and child. It was all he could bargain for. It was all he would plead for.
“Do you think he’s bringing her?” Marie asked softly. “My baby.”
“Yes. He’s bringing her, our baby,” he said with a wink. Marietta’s sorrow lifted from her face. She blinked away her tears and nodded that she would choose to believe in the reunion.
“Eat with me,” he said.
She got up from the table and went and fixed herself a bowl of the stew. She sat closer to him. Lorenzo leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Remember. I want you to open that restaurant. Name it after us. Not the Battaglia name. We drop it and take my name. Alzaro. That’s the name you and Lorenza will take.”
“I never said I wanted a restaurant, Lo. I made furniture—”
“It’s not just about what you’re good at, it’s about what’s good for you. Cooking is your way of expressing your love for me, it heals me, it always has. We open the restaurant. Okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed. “No more Mafia for us. It will be a restaurant. Our very own. You’ll fix this with Giovanni and we’ll start over somewhere fresh. That’s what you will convince him of. We leave and never come back.”
Lorenzo nodded.
“Sounds like a future I can believe in.”
“LORENZO! LO, WAKE UP !”
“Hmmm? What is it?” Lorenzo winced and lifted his head.
“Feel it? You don’t do you?”
Lorenzo looked around the small cabin and then back to his wife confused.
“The boat. It’s stopped again. They dropped the anchor. What does that mean? Is he here? Oh my God,” she said. “He’s here.”
“Shhh,” Lorenzo said and brought her back down into the pillows. He kissed her mouth. She had no choice but to return his affection. He rubbed his nose against hers and patted her butt. “It’s okay. Remember. You are my greatest love. Say it.”
“Lo, I’m scared.”
“Say it Marie.”
“I am your greatest love,” she said.
“And what I’ve done. What I will always do is love you.”
Marietta nodded.
“I will always love you,” she repeated.
“Now. Get dressed. We probably don’t have much time.”
Marietta grabbed him once more and held him close to her heart. She prayed harder than she had ever prayed in her life. When she was a little girl and Octavius beat on her constantly and her stepmother barely offered her comfort, she prayed. She went to the priest at their church and confessed all of her sins. He told her to pray for her father’s mercy. She did. Eventually she began to believe that prayer didn’t work. That there was no God. And if he did exist he’d turned his back on her long ago. So she stopped praying. Today she begged and pleaded for forgiveness. She prayed for her baby and her husband. She offered God her life instead. She couldn’t live without either of them.
“Get dressed,” Lorenzo repeated.
Marietta nodded and moved off the bed. She watched Lorenzo as he washed up in the tiny bath closet.
“Lo? Can we pray together? For me? Please.”
He stopped wiping his face and looked at her curiously.
“Pray with me. Please.”
Lorenzo dropped the rag in the sink. He came over and took her hand. Together they got down on their knees. Together they bowed their heads. Marietta recited Psalm 51. It was something her surrogate mother taught her to say to avoid the wrath of her abuser. To say it before he started drinking. To say it when she hid from him. God would hear her, and he would save her.
“Be merciful to me. O God, you are right in judging me; you are justified in condemning me. I have been evil from the day I was born; from the time I was conceived, I have been sinful...”
It was a powerful and misleading prayer to force her to recite as a child. For so long she believed it was the bad in her that made her suffer Octavius wrath. It would take years before she saw him for the real evil he was. There was a knock at the door. More like fists pounding against it. Lorenzo tried to stand. Marietta grabbed him by the arm and made him remain. She continued to pray.
“Sincerity and truth are what you require; fill my mind with your wisdom. Remove my sin, and I will be clean; Close your eyes to my sins and wipe out all my evil. Create a pure heart in me, O God, and put a new and loyal spirit in me...”
Lorenzo kissed her. Marietta kept mumbling the prayer as he kissed the side of her face. The pounding on the door became even more insistent with the Russians barking for them to come out. He had to let her go, though she clawed at him and tried to keep him on bended knee. He went to the door and four men charged in with guns. One put the gun in his face.
Time was up.
Türk Boğazları - Turkish Straits
Giovanni took the child from her caregiver’s hands. Lorenza smiled for him from behind her pacifier. His men along with the Russians who accompanied him all stared at the Don and baby.
“Keep this on her head,” the young woman said. She pulled down a little knit cap that fit snug. Lorenza began to cry in protest but Giovanni rocked her and patted her back. She again trusted his touch.