Hidden Deceit: A Mafia Romance (Corrupt Minds Book 2)

by Camille Alexander

  “Come on then, ladies, let’s get out of here.” I took Eleanora’s hand as I cleared a path to the door. We were wet and sweaty, and as soon as our bodies hit the cool air outside, steam rose from our clothes.

  The café was within walking distance to the club. Fabio and Bria walked ahead of us, laughing and chatting away.

  “Looks like Fabio has met his chatterbox match in Bria,” I said, as Eleanora and I followed behind.

  “She’s no shrinking violet that’s for sure. Fabio looks like a man who can look after himself. Have the two of you been friends for long?”

  So, she was testing the waters with a bit of small talk. Smart girl. I knew my way around headstrong women—my mother was a firecracker. I’d learned from the best.

  “We’ve been best friends since childhood. What about you and Bria?”

  “We started high school together. It wasn’t smooth sailing at first—I thought she was a spoiled princess, and she thought I was stuck up. It took a few misunderstandings before we grew close. Now, I can’t imagine my life without the nutter.”

  Her eyes smiled as she spoke of Bria. I wanted so badly to kiss her right there in the street, but I thought better of it. Raucous, hungry clubbers filled the café to capacity.

  The owner nodded as he spotted Fabio and me at the door with our beautiful ladies. He waved us over to a table and greeted us with a jolly handshake.

  “Ah, welcome, welcome,” he said as he used his cloth to wipe the surface of the table. “I haven’t seen your father for a few weeks, Joe. Is he well?”

  “He is; thank you, Giovani. I see you’re doing well—this place is pumping—must be your lovely wife’s excellent cooking.”

  “You’re a charmer just like your father, Joe. Watch yourself around this one,” Giovani said to Eleanora with a wink, “he’ll steal your heart before you can say ‘rigatoni.’”

  “I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on him. Thank you, Giovani.” Eleanora gave him a warm smile. I’d thought Giovani got it wrong. I was the one who’d have to watch my step—she was an intriguing beauty, and I was falling hard.

  Giovani took our food order and sent a bottle of chianti to our table. The café was only slightly less noisy than the club, so we leaned in close to talk.

  “What happened at the club? You ladies were gone from the table for a long time,” I commented after we’d poured our drinks. The girls looked at each other before Eleanora spoke.

  “We had a run-in with one of your fans. A tall, busty brunette with serious attitude and dagger eyes reprimanded me for sharing oxygen with you.”

  “Oooh, Anna strikes again, my dear Joe.” Fabio rolled his eyes as he looked at me. I was beyond annoyed.

  “Who’s Anna?” Bria asked. “She’s lucky Eleanora stopped me from kicking her skinny ass. The woman’s a bitch on wheels.”

  “Should I be looking over my shoulder?” Eleanora joked as she gave me a teasing smile.

  “Anna is an interesting story. Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s sour because she couldn’t ensnare me in her trap. I’ll tell you about it, someday. I don’t want to lose my appetite now or spoil our evening.”

  Eleanora seemed satisfied with the answer. I was thankful that she wasn’t the jealous type. It would be a refreshing change in my world. The food was a hit and the company a blast. Bria was crazy funny. She and Fabio had us in stitches. Eleanora was charming, smart as a whip, and if I had a penny for every time a man stared luridly at her during dinner, I’d have left the café with a trunk full of cash.

  “Can I see you again?” I asked her at the end of the night as we walked back to the club.

  “You sure Anna won’t jump out from behind a bush and attack me with a shovel if she catches us together?” Her sarcasm was a turn on.

  “I’m sure you can handle it. You seem like a very capable foe” I retorted after she’d chuckled.

  “I’d like that, Joe.”

  “Good, I think we need to work on our dance moves. Especially the slow ones.” I didn't kiss her goodnight. I thought it best to hold back a little, make her hungry for me—or so I told myself.

  Chapter Two

  Eleanora

  On the drive home, Bria talked my ear off.

  “Okay,” she said, “spill it! Is Joe as yummy as he looks?”

  “He’s better. He makes my knees weak. How about Fabio? You like him?”

  “He’s great fun. We had a blast, but I don’t think either of us is looking for a serious relationship.”

  “You’re not ready; I get that. But don’t take too long before you get back on the horse, Bria.” I knew she’d never admit it, but she was still smarting after the breakup with her longtime boyfriend, Paulo. They’d met in high school and were voted the couple most likely to get hitched. Unfortunately, love isn’t an exact science, and Paulo spent the summer after graduation in the arms of another.

  “Yes, Mom,” she said, as she rolled her eyes and put her feet up on the dashboard. “I’ll dust off the saddle soon and ride that stallion until he bleeds.”

  “I fear for the unsuspecting stallion. Go easy on the whip, darling.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Get me home. I’m a goner.”

  “Ciao!” I shouted out the window as she opened the front door to her apartment.

  “Ciao, bella. Sweet dreams of your prince.”

  The night was over way too soon. My feet throbbed from all the dancing, and a warm bath before bed did wonders for my aching body.

  I wondered about the enigmatic Joe—where he was from, why I hadn’t seen him on the streets of Palermo, what his family did for a living. He was a mystery to me—a riddle I couldn’t wait to solve.

  My eyes were heavy as I lay staring at the ceiling. When Joe and I’d arrived back at the club, he’d asked me for my phone number. I’d tried not to look too keen, but who was I kidding? A blind man without a stick or a guide dog could see that I’d come over all “ah shucks” when he’d said goodnight. I expected him to kiss me goodnight, but he simply kissed me on the cheek and off he went. Was he playing hard to get?

  ***

  JOE

  The phone rang early on Sunday morning. It was Fabio.

  “Hey, sleeping beauty, get your ass out of bed; we’re playing soccer this morning. The boys are meeting us down at the club. Let’s go kick some ass.”

  “Don’t you ever lie in, you bloody fool?” I was still wiping the sleep from my eyes.

  “I’ll lie in when I’m dead. Now, get moving. I’ll fetch you in half an hour.”

  He hung up before I could argue. ADHD wasn’t a common diagnosis in the seventies, but I was convinced that he was the founding member and president of the ‘“I can’t stay still for more than five minutes” club. There was no point in arguing with Fabio, so I got up and dug around in my closet for my soccer kit.

  Dressed and ready, I popped into the kitchen downstairs where I grabbed Maria’s famous fette biscottate, fresh from the oven. Together, with a strong cup of coffee, breakfast went down like a homesick mole.

  “Joe!” My father’s voice came from the direction of his study. He was an early riser and already busy at his desk.

  “Si, Papa.” I made my way down the passage to see him.

  “Come in, my son. Sit. I wanted to talk to you.”

  My father’s impressive mocha oak desk was piled high with files; journals; unopened gifts; expensive whiskey, if I were forced to hazard a guess; and a silver soccer boot of the young and upcoming star of Italian soccer, midfielder Mario Tardelli. My father was a soccer fanatic. He’d sponsored many talented young players and was seen often at big matches. It was his passion.

  “It’s time for you to join the business, Joe. I didn’t send you to expensive schools abroad for nothing. You are a smart young man. I need you to step up and help me run the family’s enterprises.”

  “I understand, Papa, and I agree. But I’ve just graduated, and I’m happy to be back in Sicily. I’ve missed my friends, and I’d like to
enjoy the last few weeks of summer before I start my career.”

  “I was young once. I remember carefree days spent with friends and pretty girls, lying on the beach and dancing ‘til all hours of the morning. But there comes a time when a man must step up and take care of business. You have done well to honor us with your diligence at university, Son, so I’ll thank you by giving you the rest of summer to play. But as soon as that’s done, you will work side by side with me, and I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

  “Thank you, Papa. I promise to work hard and make you proud.”

  “I know you will, Son.”

  Fabio announced his arrival with his usual boisterous antics. Maria chased him out of the kitchen with her rolling pin as he chuckled.

  “Basta, you naughty boy!”

  My father rolled his eyes and said, “Off you go, son. Go keep an eye on Fabio before he breaks something.”

  “Grazie, Papa. Arrivederci.”

  “Okay, you hooligan, let’s get rid of some of that energy of yours.” I grabbed my bag as we left poor Maria in peace.

  ELEANORA

  I awoke early on Sunday morning to the sounds and smells of a perfect summer’s day. I had slept well, so I got dressed to go for a run. Summers in Palermo were intensely hot—exercise was best done early—and I couldn’t make it through the day without my morning endorphin rush.

  I thought about Joe while I ran. Why had I not seen him before? I certainly would have noticed such a handsome face. He was a few years older than I, about four years by my reckoning, so perhaps, he’d been away studying. He must be someone, I’d thought, by the reactions of the club manager and café owner when they had noticed him. Perhaps his parents were influential in Palermo. I would find out soon enough. I was sweating like a racehorse by the time I got back home.

  My mother was in the kitchen making breakfast. “Morning, my darling. I’d like you to help me prepare for lunch today. The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” She smiled as she put freshly baked cornetti on the cooling rack. The smell was heavenly. As a young child, I’d sneak one off the rack when my mother wasn’t looking. It was a wonder I had fingerprints—straight from the oven a cornetti was hot as Hades.

  “And which man’s heart are we trying to infiltrate today, Mama? Who’s coming for lunch?” I asked, as I snuck a warm cornetti past her eagle eyes.

  “Who said anything about guests?”

  “Oh, come now, Mama. You’ve taken out the good china, polished the silver cutlery, and you’re wearing your best apron. The signs are blinding.”

  My mother laughed as she cupped my chin in her palm. “There’s no fooling you, my smart girl. Your Papa has invited new clients for lunch, and Bria’s parents are joining us too.”

  “Okay, Mama. I’ll have a quick shower, and then, I’ll be down to help.”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove and headed for my room. After a refreshing shower, I made my way back to the kitchen once more to be the good Italian daughter. At least I wasn’t barefoot and pregnant. I could thank my progressive parents for that. Most girls my age were married with a bun in the oven or engaged to be married. I’d have none of that crap. It was the seventies—the women’s liberation was burning their bras for goodness sake!

  My father popped his head around the door as my mother and I were chatting and clanging dishes, conjuring up the best that Italian cuisine had to offer.

  “Ah, both my girls in the kitchen. Do I smell fresh cornetti?”

  “Yes, my love. Go easy, lunch is going to be a big one.” My mother handed him a plate with his treat and a strong coffee, while he left us to cook.

  My parents had worked hard to give me the advantages that they’d never had. My father started his company when he was very young, and after many years of sound business decisions and dedication, my family was doing alright. There was never a lack of anything in the Lastra household. Not that I was a spoiled brat, but I had never gone without. My father doted on my mother. He’d often say that she was his biggest achievement. They made a wonderful couple.

  Joe’s face kept coming up in my mind's eye as I was chopping and stirring. I wondered what he was doing.

  JOE

  It required nothing short of Herculean effort to drag my whiskey pickled ass around the soccer field. It was hot as hell, and I was dehydrated from the late night before. Fabio, the president and founding member of the ADHD club, was all over the field like a spray gun, diving, leaping, kicking, and heckling.

  After what seemed like hours, the game was done. I was more than relieved when the whistle saved me from certain death brought on by a hangover. I made a beeline for the changerooms. Fabio followed soon after.

  “Hey, what happened to you?” He was wiping his face with a towel and glugging down his drink.

  “It’s hot as hell out there, and I didn’t get much sleep last night.” I got out of my sweaty kit and headed for the shower.

  “Can’t sleep, huh? I bet it had something to do with the gorgeous Eleanora,” he said as he sat down on the bench against the wall. “I saw you slipping her the tongue. She’s super hot but look who I’m telling.”

  “Bria’s pretty hot herself. You give her the famous Fabio five star treatment? Or are you taking it slow for maximum impact?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of changing things up a bit with this filly,” he grinned.

  “Oh no! Don’t tell me the great manwhore Fabio has met his match. Someone, stop the press.”

  He pulled a face as he stepped into the shower. “I’m not saying she’s the one, but I had a really good time with her. She’s different from the usual women that hang around Palermo’s clubs.”

  “Instead of sweating our balls off in the searing heat, we should have shopped for a ball and chain for you. Or is she bringing hers?”

  Fabio flicked me with the end of his towel. “Zip it, you! In case you haven’t noticed, you’re all puppy-eyed too, you big hero. Wanna make a wager on who’ll get hitched first? I know who my money’s on.”

  “Oh, shut up, you pain in the ass. Let’s go to the beach. I need to work on my tan while I still can. My old man is giving me until the end of the summer to sow my wild oats. Then, I’ll be a working man.”

  “Gotta payback that crazy tuition sometime, bud. Better you than me. My old man wants me to run his steelworks firm when he’s too old to do it. I’ll have to start from the ground up. You know what he’s like. ‘Hard work builds character, my boy, hard work!’ I’ll be lucky if I ever get to see the inside of a nightclub again.”

  “So, stop complaining and let’s hit the beach before we’re both hitched, smelling of baby puke, and up to our eyeballs in responsibilities.”

  ELEANORA

  Lunch was ready, finally; my mother had prepared every known Italian dish and invented a few more. I was upstairs in my room when I heard Bria’s voice dancing down the passage toward me.

  “Hey, Ella. You can run but you can’t hide,” she called as she came closer.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I retorted as she burst into my room like a whirlwind.

  “Has he called yet? Is your sexy knight coming to whisk you away?” She flopped onto my bed and watched as I brushed my wet hair.

  “Is that all you think about?”

  “We're young and fertile. What else is there to think about?”

  “Ugh, I’m keeping my eggs on ice for now, thanks. Besides, big mouth, are you seeing Fabio again?”

  “Don’t change the subject, you slippery eel. Answer the question.” She was as persistent as a toothache.

  “No, he hasn’t, but I’m not stressed about it. It’s not like I’m waiting by the phone, pining.”

  “Wait! Do you smell that? Oh, I recognize that smell. Hang on . . . it’s bullshit!”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, Bria; get off my bed, and let’s get downstairs before my mother sends out a search party.”

  “Okay, we’ll take this up
later. Bria Bloodhound is in the house!”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  Lunch was its usual Italian festive affair. My parents were on their best behavior, hosting the perfect luncheon for papa’s new client. They were loaded by the looks of it. The wife wore more jewelry than Sophia Loren, and her husband was sporting the latest designer clothes, fresh off the presses. But my mother was the most beautiful woman in the room. She had a natural beauty that superseded most Italian women, and wherever she went, men and women would gawk.

  “Your father tells me you’re off to university to study botanical sciences, Ella,” Bria’s father said after lunch.

  “Yes, I am. Papa wants me to be the ‘son’ who’ll take over his vast empire,” I teased as my father laughed.

  “There’s no sense in a brain like yours going to waste, Ella,” my father said as he gave me a wink.

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to it. It will be fun watching the men squirm when I kick their butts in class.”

  “Poor fools,” my mother chimed in. “I feel almost sorry for them.” We all laughed. After lunch, Bria and I excused ourselves and headed for the beach.

  I couldn’t wait to hit the ocean.

  JOE

  The beach was packed. Summers in Palermo were endless tourists and locals, out enjoying the beautiful, azure seas of the Mediterranean. Half naked bodies, brightly colored beach towels, sailboats, and sandcastles were a sight for sore eyes. The usual gang of misfits met up as we headed for the water.

  “That was quite a looker you reeled in last night, Joe.” Mario grinned as his rotund body floated on the surface of the water. “Fabio, your filly wasn’t too shabby, either.”

  “Yup, my main man, Joe, and I know how to pull the ladies. Just shout if you boys need a few pointers.” Fabio grinned as he floated about.

  “We’re doing just fine, thanks, Don Giovanni,” Franco retorted, clearly in one of his pissy moods.

  “Oh yeah; when last did you get laid, my friend?” Fabio was baiting the snippy Franco, nothing unusual about that.