by S. W. Frank
“Por qué?”
“Because.”
“Because what?”
“Because I wanted to say good-night.”
“Oh you are sweet. Te amo, hija.”
“You’re sweet like sugar.” She rubbed his ears and kissed his forehead. “Love you, too,” she said and then wiggled out of his arms.
Alfonzo placed her gently on her feet and smiled as she tip-toed to her room. What a sweet child. He peeked in and she had the cover over her head. Vincent was curled in a ball on the opposite bed.
“Buenos noches mi ángel,” Alfonzo whispered.
“Night.” She yawned.
Alfonzo grinned as he closed the door. He wasn’t lost anymore; he was found by a child.
***
“Mama, Carlo comes with me, finito!” Giuseppe shouted to the woman as she made her protest known for the hundredth time. He did not wish to hear any more. Shanda’s death did not give her license to steal his son. Frankly, he needed Carlo’s presence more than ever. He marched upstairs with his mother in pursuit.
The pain of Shanda’s sudden passing had eased somewhat, but his temper had not. Lately, everyone and everything set him off, except Carlo.
“Geo, por favore, let him stay. You are far too busy to care for him, besides, it is late and he is asleep.” Sophie pleaded.
"Mama you are worse than the Americano government. I have told you the decision is final, yet you attempt extortion at the expense of others." Vexed, Giuseppe exhaled. "Do not use my work to claim Carlo. Ti amo mama, but do not make me angry with your manipulations.” His eyes softened. Perhaps he was being cruel. At times, he had to reach inside for the words of Allie, who always cautioned him to be nice. He had listened, bought Shanda that damn car and his niceness is why she died. If anyone were to blame, nice Giuseppe was at fault. “Mama, I know you were good to Shanda. Feel no guilt. Continue with the business, you have her recipes and the skill. Honor her memory mama; do that for Carlo…por favore…do it for me.”
Sophie held a hand to her heart. Her grief was deep and the guilt immeasurable. Only if she had not given Shanda the key and waited for Giuseppe to do the honors, the girl would be alive because he would have prevented her from driving off. But a meddling mother wanted to see Shanda’s happy expression, that’s what she couldn’t get out of her mind.
Sophie’s eyes filled as she looked upon her son. “Por favore figlio let Carlo stay this notte.”
Giuseppe gripped the balustrade. Ah, cazzo perhaps he could allow the boy to remain till tomorrow. “I come after work mama. Have his things ready, por favore?” he said and then trot down the stairs and slammed out the door before his mother thanked him.
Sophie sighed. Shanda’s passing had made Giuseppe more irritable. She prayed the deep sadness went away. She peered in on the sleeping child before returning downstairs to sit on the patio. She stared at the stars; she renamed the brightest one Shanda. The girl had so much potential and now she was gone.
“Ah, I will miss you,” she whispered to the dark as she blinked, not wanting to cry any more. She had to stay strong for Carlo.
Sophie frowned, and then reclined.
The night was thick, but the clock showed it was too early to retire. The weeks had become too long, the days torturous. She felt burdened of late, perhaps because her birthday was coming and Shanda and Amelda had planned a big celebration. They thought she didn’t know, but she had ears in many places. The loyal cook, Viola had hawk eyes and canine hearing for an elderly woman and conveyed household gossip to her employer.
Sophie chose to forego a fiesta this year. She could not dance or smile pretending she were happy when she lost a woman who had become a second daughter.
A guard appeared on the lawn. “Signora Dichenzo there is a man at the gate; he says his name is Yosef.”
Ice froze her veins. Yosef was in prison for twenty years, at least she had thought. The frost became a furnace and her ventricles thawed. Her eyes did not reflect her panic. Controlled, she nodded. “Sí let him enter but ensure he is relieved of any weapons,” she instructed. Although this was normal procedure, reiteration of security protocol revealed her concern.
The guard disappeared and Sophie exhaled hard, and then she stood. She would face Yosef without fear. In business, a lady cannot show weakness. She had made risky business deals in the past with hard men. The one she married was quite fierce. Whatever compensation Yosef expected; she was unwilling to give. The Statute of Limitations had run, it’s not as if she committed murder.
Sophie marched through the house. Viola had retired for the night, her arthritis had flared. The poor woman refused to go to Syracuse to live with her daughter.
A mirror in the foyer is where Sophie glanced at her reflection. A few pounds here and there enhanced her figure. As a girl she’d been too thin. She scoffed. Her mother said she resembled Sophia Loren. “You should become an actress,” her mother often encouraged, but Sophie loved cooking. She had no interest in memorizing scripts or spending hours in make-up and wardrobe with children.
She opened the door before anyone rang the bell. She did not want to wake Carlo. Yosef approached, escorted by a soldati with an automatic rifle. He wore a crisp white shirt, black slacks and polished shoes. The former mane of black hair was peppered with grey beneath his yarmulke. He had aged but well, the rock cell gave him an even meaner disposition she noticed by the sneer on his mouth. But, he played the gentleman. “Shalom, Sophie Dichenzo, my sympathies are delayed.”
Sophie waved him in, leaving the soldati outside the door. When they were alone she offered Yosef refreshments; she refused to acknowledge his disingenuous condolences. “Would you like tea, or coffee?”
He waved his hand. The inspection of her home was made without turning his head. “No,” he answered walking to the settee but he did not sit. “Beautiful villa. Carlo made you a very rich widow.”
“What do you want Yosef?” she asked without further ceremony.
The sharp white of his teeth showed. “Must I say?”
Her eyes flicked over the well-formed physique, further sculpted by what many say is prison exercise. What else is there to do behind bars besides reading for an inmate with a lengthy sentence?
“Our business concluded upon your arrest,” Sophie stated.
“Oh, but Signora Dichenzo, that is not how it works.”
Sophie’s eyes were spiteful. “It is what I say, capisce?”
Yosef snorted. “What you say does not alter the debt.”
“I owe you nothing!”
“I am here to conclude our transaction. I demand the balance. I sat in jail because of you.”
“You were imprisoned because of your crimes, besides I do not have the item and I hear your time was spent in luxury.”
The hulking figure frowned. “Ah, I understand.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Should I speak to your son or perhaps Don Diaz?”
“You will die first.”
He chuckled, and stepped closer to the attractive matron who was stunning many years ago. A beauty is what she remained but he was not affected by her charm, prison walls broke the spell, although he found his penis had begun to harden in a sign of betrayal. “No Sophie my love. You will not harm me because you understand the risks. Besides, I thought you were reasonable. But, I see only men can understand the necessity of honor in business. What is a handshake, a signature on a promissory note if no one intends to pay, tell me love?”
Sophie scowled at his slight. “Do not threaten or offend me Yosef. I am averse to blackmail.”
“You speak with such conviction, but fear is in your eyes.” A bold hand gripped her ass. “A man who has spent many years locked-up begins to wonder whether he was double-crossed. You never wrote or visited, why is that Sop
hie?”
“I could not risk the polizei making a connection.”
“Yes, that is what I thought.” He squeezed her tush to bring her against his hardness. “There is a time we were cordial.”
“Cordial Yosef?”
“Far more than friends.”
“Yosef!” she replied sharply to his boldness.
But Yosef observed she did not try to escape. “Tonight we dispense with the games.” His mouth covered hers before she could speak. He held her arms to her sides to invade her mouth with his tongue. With little effort he pinned Sophie to the settee, smiling when she wet his mouth with deceitful lips. He experienced a furious tremor and his dick sprung up like a Jack-in-the-Box.
He leaned away. A reminder of the past was a simple sentence. “I brokered the deal for your husband and he received the merchandise at half price. I only intervened because you asked. But, you failed to honor the side bargain and now I want payment and interest in the form of flesh.”
“Carlo has paid you.”
“Feh!” Yosef growled. “The agreement we had did not concern cash. You were aware of my dilemma. Yet, in lieu of honoring a promise you sentenced me to jail.”
“I could not allow you to keep the painting. Carlo would have noticed it was missing. I could not risk his anger,” she answered sliding up on the striped cushions.
Yosef grinned. “I suspected as much.” His eyes bore through her skull. “I need what you promised. A debt is a debt.” His nostrils flared. “Your treachery has consequences Sophie.”
“Yosef, leave my home!”
He bent low. “I want you Sophie,” he said while sliding his hand between her thighs. His fingers found the edge of her panties and he tore them in a haste to consummate. “You and I are the same. Carlo is dead and you need a strong man to take his place. A sexy woman needs sex. Unless she no longer likes to fuck.”
She slapped his arrogant cheek. “Vaffanculo!”
He grinned and kissed her down. Initially she struggled but then she relaxed. She tugged at his shirt, popping the buttons. He grunt when she massaged his chest, running soft hands up his neck and through his hair and his yarmulke hit the armrest.
“You still want me to leave?” he asked as he spread her legs and hiked her dress.
The answer was a fevered sucking of his lower lip and then pulling on his tongue.
Yosef recalled their clandestine meeting in Naples at a hotel. She had the painting as promised and an expensive bottle of champagne. She said they must celebrate, Carlo had received the armaments. Yosef had legal problems with the government of both Israel and America. He had arranged to bribe an influential official to have the charges disappear by paying with an heirloom, a part of the man’s heritage considered priceless due to sentiment. Sophie said she could locate the piece and she had.
The painting belonged to the magistrate’s relative that was stolen during the Nazi occupation. Such a recovery had Sophie kept her side of the bargain would have resulted in not only Yosef’s freedom but a host of newfound political friends. However, upon release from prison he found threats by enemies.
On the evening celebration with Sophie, he recalled fuzziness after having drunk the wine she poured. He awakened the next morning to find Sophie and the painting missing. He exited Naples, but was then detained when he reached America to request an extension from the judge. He was too late. He had missed the deadline and forgiveness is not granted after several hours of delays.
Sophie, the slick woman had no intention of honoring the bargain, she admitted it didn’t she?
The cunning woman.
But, Sophie was unaware her life was dependent upon him. He would wait to tell her after he was satiated. That slip of a girl he married miscarried not long after his release, but he did not care, she had served her purpose. The parole board ruled in his favor and his freedom was secured, for now. A turn of events facilitated he seek divorce and until the decree was final he purchased a villa on the outskirts of Catania where he settled in obscurity. His temporary wife was housed in a quaint farmhouse in Cefalú until he shipped her away with money to end the farce.
Once his debt was paid to another he could continue to expand his Mafiya Empire. The Mediterranean Sea and the proximity to Africa was an ideal location for business operations that consisted of drugs, arms and jewels.
Who needed a useless girl when stimulating conversations and love-making with a sexy baleboste are the alternative?
The idea of distributing his goods across the globe was seductive, just like the succulent texture of Sophie’s mouth and her influence.
Sophie met his ardor with fire. He cursed in Hebrew as he fumbled with his belt buckle until it loosened. The shapely curves of a woman, full buxom and naughty kisses are what Sophie possessed and he wanted to consume.
Yosef freed himself from his lower garment. The penetration he longed for came along with a surprisingly bold taunt. “Take your payment Yosef…but I recall the opportunity was missed because you were unable to hold liquor and fell asleep.”
He slammed inward and the settee legs scratched the polished floor during the motion. He liked the claws raking his arms, the teeth on his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment to savor the feel of Sophie again.
His eyes opened. What a pair they would make. He thrilled to discover how it would feel to wake each day to her warm body. Harder he went, shaking a vase down from a mantle.
Yosef hoist her ankles into the air and this time she moaned. “Better…um…maybe you can stay for one notte.” She grinned naughtily, nibbling his lower lip, toying with the lion unleashed from a cage, making him growl from the stickiness clinging to the piston of skin stroking hard and fast.
Yosef’s face contorted in pleasure. Spasm after spasm he suffered attached to the lioness as she marked him below with muscle clenches a novice girl-wife could not do.
“You like, sí?” she asked with the accent which seduced him long ago.
“You know I do!” He countered, raising her hem to her neck to suck her melon breasts until bruised. But, she did not cry like the foolish girl he bedded, in fact she gave orders. “There, sí, oh yes bello, I like when you do that. Do it again!”
He pant and the branches of his penis pulsed uncontrollably. “Our discussion regarding your debt may take years to settle,” he remarked in a gravel of a voice.
Impaled and enjoying the throbbing of his member, she breathed on his neck while rubbing his firm skin. “I think we can reach an amicable resolution before morning, bello.”
He smirked. She was as ignorant as he the day he drank from her glass of wine and found he was fucked.
CHAPTER SIX
Ari handed Nico the box of children’s clothing to give to Sophie. Selange arrived in town and the Energizer Bunny hit the ground running. Her latest endeavor was to aid single mothers by donating children’s clothing. This suggestion came up at their meeting a few nights ago. Sophie had agreed and volunteered her home to warehouse the items until they were distributed to the churches.
Nico looked at the large box. Semira had begun wobbly steps and soon she would be walking with confidence. He hated time raced by. He loathed the thought of Semira dating.
He lifted the box. “That’s it?”
“That’s all for now,” Ari said while tying the sash of her robe. She awakened early to make tea and to share a quiet morning without interruption from the children. They had established a ritual after the death of his mother which consisted of morning talks at dawn over breakfast, late night walks on the property or utilization of the yacht to enjoy the view of the sea and uninterrupted sex. Nico had changed. Subtle but a change nonetheless. Their conversations about his art brought a glow to his face that she loved to see. He appeared relaxed and happy. She realized that she hadn’t fully known Nico the artist and what she learned, she loved even more.
She gave him a
quick kiss on the cheek. She had to stand on the balls of her feet to do so. “Stay safe and don’t forget Semira. I’ll be home late. You have to check on the boys.”
Ari was close-mouthed about the cash she received under the table from Selange. In the event Nico was busted, the authorities would never find her goddamn money.
She was taking the aero to Switzerland to open a new account and add a proxy to an existing account for Selange. The trick to avoiding detection when laundering money is never deposit large amounts of cash. Diversify in small fictitious companies and individual savings accounts. Like Nico, account numbers were stored in her head, but recently she had to acknowledge with a hectic life, she might one day forget. A record had to be made. In the bronze baby shoes of Semira is where the accounts and locations were secreted. In her will, she bequeathed prized possessions to the children. In talks with the boys she specified, they are to inspect each gift after her passing and proceed accordingly.
She hadn’t told Nico where she was going and there wasn’t any way around the new electronic gadgets he put everywhere. With Shanda’s untimely passing, her techie husband gave her a present, a pulse sensor bracelet to wear. It was useless to anyone but the owner. The electronic sensor identified her heart rate and then used her unique DNA code as an algorithm to access certain places, it was also a locator.
Nico also upgraded their security. He programmed everything from the villa to the gates, cars and even the shed with new technology. To gain entry to any of these things required a swipe of the owner’s hand or wrist near a designated entry point, such as a door for example. Nico ensured his area was off-limits. The weapons and special equipment used for work weren’t for community usage. With a curious child in the home he was overly diligent that rules were in effect. The only person to use a gun was Nico, unless there was a life-threatening emergency in the home.
He updated the other families with the new systems.
Nico hadn’t told Ari he’d gone to do an installation at Bianca’s only to learn she moved. Well, Ari had firsthand knowledge because the heffa phoned a few days before she departed town. Bianca had the audacity to apologize…that’s right…the woman said she was sorry if she had caused trouble.