Ricardo

by Marita A. Hansen

  “I can feel you,” he said, brushing his lips against her cheek.

  The doctor had said it was all in Ricardo’s mind, which made sense, considering he hadn’t felt her touch when she’d snuck up on him the day before. If he saw her, his mind fooled him into believing he could feel her touch, but if he didn’t know she was there, he felt nothing. Still, the doctor was fascinated with how the antidote had given Ricardo feeling back for a couple of days. Cesare had told them he would find a safe way to make it permanent, without interfering with Ricardo’s other medication.

  Ricardo pulled her to his body. “I love being able to feel you.”

  “I love being able to feel you too.”

  “It’s more special for me,” he replied, cupping her breast. “It’s a medical miracle.”

  “Feeling you is just as special to me.”

  He laughed softly, the rumble deep and sexy. “I can make you feel even more special,” he said, running his lips over her ear.

  She shivered. “I don’t doubt it.”

  A door opened a few rooms down the passage, drawing her attention to it. Valentino stepped out with his daughters, his eyes going to them. He quickly turned and ushered the girls back into their room, one of them complaining loudly.

  Bianca laughed. “I think we better take this to the bedroom.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” he said, “especially since my stalker is giving you the evil eye.”

  Bianca glanced down at Ivy, who was openly glaring at her. One of the twins yelled out Brando’s name, drawing Ivy’s attention away from Bianca. Brando came striding into the lounge, his gait pure arrogance. He was wearing dark pants and a white button-down shirt, with his jacket slung over a shoulder. Although he hadn’t fully recovered from the gunshot wound, it was still a miracle he was alive, his hallucinations and headaches a small price to pay.

  Brando stopped in front of Ivy. With a nasty grin, he leaned towards her ear, whispering something into it. Ivy’s hand whipped out, going to slap him. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. Letting go, he walked over to Vinnie and put an arm over his brother’s shoulder. Ivy glared at him, giving Bianca the impression the Viper wanted to add to Brando’s head injury.

  “Did you just see that?” Ricardo asked.

  “What?”

  “Brando marked Ivy.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “When he kisses the back of a woman’s hand, he marks her as his.”

  “It doesn’t look like Ivy likes him.”

  “It doesn’t matter, once Brando marks a woman, he either gets them or...” Ricardo paused.

  “Or what?”

  “...kills them.”

  “Then, let’s hope it’s the latter.”

  Ricardo laughed. “You’re a callous woman.” He smiled. “Exactly how I like my females.”

  “Females?”

  “Female. You’re one in a million.”

  “You’re the only one.”

  He bent down and picked her up, giving her a hard kiss. She smiled into the kiss, finally getting her man.

  Epilogue

  Two Weeks Later

  The hitman started undressing the deliveryman, stealing his clothes. Blood spidered out from the bullet wound on his victim’s forehead. He removed the man’s last piece of clothing, and started dressing himself in it, the size and fit pretty close to what he wore. He’d made sure of that, checking out all the people that went in and out of the Landi compound, sizing up everyone, then choosing the closest match, the unlucky bastardo on the floor collateral damage.

  The hitman finished pulling on the uniform, then removed a set of keys from the pants and headed for the door, tugging the man’s cap further down. He closed the apartment door behind him and descended the staircase, entering the parking lot. He clicked the key remote, the deliveryman’s white van beeping in response. He slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine, reaching for the sunglasses on the dashboard. Popping them on, he flicked between the radio stations, searching for some hard rock, his new medication having fixed his headache. He stopped the dial on an Avenged Sevenfold song and cranked it up high, the strains of “Nightmare” making him smile—because he was one.

  He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the Landi compound. Thirty minutes later, he turned off the radio and stopped at their checkpoint, a massive gate blocking him from entering. A soldier waved him up to the window of the guardhouse. Unafraid, the hitman drove forward. He was wearing a prosthetic nose, since the deliveryman’s was considerably larger, and had grown a beard to finish off the look.

  The soldier leaned out of the guardhouse. “Come stai?”

  “I’m doing good,” the hitman replied, making his voice sound higher. He could mimic anyone. He used to make his brothers laugh when they were kids, imitating stars to family members. He could even do his mother’s voice, which didn’t go down so well when she’d caught him. Still, it had been a fun game—something that was now an important part of his job.

  “Get any figa?” the soldier asked, referring to pussy.

  “I wish,” the hitman replied, knowing the deliveryman was an unlucky bastardo when it came to women. He’d watched the man for almost three weeks, memorizing every movement, gesture, the way he spoke, and finding out more about the man than probably most people knew, because the guy had led a lonely life.

  The soldier laughed. “Always the same answer.”

  Which the hitman already knew. He’d bugged the deliveryman’s clothes the day after he’d started the assignment, so he would know what to say.

  The soldier opened the gates for him. The hitman drove through, smiling as he headed towards a stunning house, which was a mixture of classical and modern living rolled into one massive fortress. He pulled around the side of the house, knowing where to go, the video camera he’d installed in the lights having recorded it for him.

  He parked the van next to a side entrance and got out, holding his arms out so the soldier guarding it could wave the magic wand over him, doing a routine check for weapons. Not a beep sounded, all his weapons hidden in the van. He’d put them in there a week ago to test if they would get onto the property. Not only did they, but multiple times.

  The Landi soldier slipped the metal detector into his jacket. “Got my licorice?”

  “You know I did.” The hitman went to the back of the van and opened up, pulling out the bag of licorice, the Landi guard having a taste for it. He handed it to the soldier, who instantly ripped it open, the guy’s teeth pretty bad.

  The soldier pulled out a licorice strip, using it to point at the hitman. “There’s something’s different about you today?”

  “What?” the hitman asked, hoping he hadn’t been caught out.

  The man smiled. “You got fucked.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You never smile.”

  Grinning, the hitman wiggled his hips. “You bet I did. The fat donna next door finally let me in—in more ways than one.”

  The soldier laughed, then took a bite of the licorice. The hitman turned to the van, pretending to arrange the produce in the box, waiting for the man to drop. A second later, he got his wish, the soldier collapsing from the poisoned licorice. He dragged him to the door and sat him on the chair next to it, leaning his head against the wall. He closed the man’s eyes, making it look like he was sleeping.

  Knowing he didn’t have much time, he climbed into the back of the van and removed the fake panel in the wall he’d installed while the deliveryman had been sleeping. He pulled out a bag of miniature bombs and one of the guns, stuffing the .22 into his jacket. He then jumped out of the van and put the bag into the grocery box, carrying it through the doorway and into the kitchen.

  A woman was peeling potatoes at the sink, while another was washing dishes. The first one stopped what she was doing, turning to him as he put the supplies on the kitchen counter, which was an island in the middle of the room. She was probably in he
r late fifties, and was short and plump.

  She walked over to him. “I hope you bought enough flour this time.”

  “I certainly did.” He moved behind her as she checked through the supplies. He glanced at the other woman, who wasn’t paying them any attention, too caught up with her job.

  “What’s this?” the first woman asked, touching the bag with the bombs.

  “A present for your boss,” he said, pulling out his gun. Faster than a blink of an eye, he covered her mouth and shot her in the head, the silencer muffling the sound, but not enough. The other woman turned around, her eyes going to the gun. He pulled the trigger before she could scream, shooting her in the forehead.

  The hitman turned back to the grocery box and pulled out one of the miniature bombs from the bag. He peeled its backing off and attached it to the underside of the bench, then grabbed the bag and headed for the next door, prodding it open a fraction. A servant was setting the table. The hitman aimed his gun at the man, pulling the trigger. The servant went down instantly.

  The hitman entered the dining room and attached a bomb to the table, something he would detonate once he was outside the compound, his phone the activator. He pocketed the last bomb, then headed for another door, which led onto the lounge. Prior to Pedro becoming an enemy, he’d visited the house on a few occasions, the Landi having been gracious hosts—back then.

  He pushed the door open a fraction, spying Pedro Landi and his wife on the couch. They had their backs to him, and were in deep conversation about their eldest daughter. He slipped into the room, moving forward soundlessly. As he neared them, he shot the woman, then struck Pedro across the head, momentarily stunning him.

  Before Pedro could come to his senses, he climbed over the couch and shoved the gun into the Don’s mouth. “Hurts like fuck, doesn’t it, Pedro,” he said, glaring at the fat man’s face. “And I’m not talking about the strike.” He yanked the man’s head around so he could see his wife lying sideways with a bullet in her head. “How does it feel to lose a wife? I have no idea, but my brother does. He’s suffering because of what you did, so as your motto goes: an eye for an eye, and a wife for a wife.”

  Pedro tried to say something, but only grunts came out, the gun stopping him from making any sense.

  The hitman smiled at him. “Do you like my costume? I look nothing like this, but you probably already know that. Now, I’m going to give you a chance to live. Once I remove the gun from your mouth, tell me my first and last name, and if you’re right, I’ll leave without firing another bullet. You have two seconds, and if you yell, I’ll shoot you in the head, then go looking for your daughter, because, unlike my brothers, I have no morals.” He removed the gun.

  Pedro spluttered out, “Brando Santini.”

  “Wrong answer.” Brando fired off a bullet, hitting Pedro in the forehead. The Don slumped down, dead to the world. Brando pulled out the last bomb and stuck it to Pedro’s face, then headed for the back door, muttering, “I’m a D’Angelo—whether I like it or not.”

  About the Author

  Marita A. Hansen is from New Zealand. She loves writing, creating art, watching and participating in football, and running. She ran her first marathon in 2012 and is now planning on completing many more. For more information on Marita check out these links:

  Author Facebook Page:

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676

  Blog Site:

  http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/

  Amazon Author Page:

  http://www.amazon.com/Marita-A.-Hansen/e/B005H5W79K/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

  Goodreads’ Author Page:

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5129673.Marita_A_Hansen

  Artslant Page:

  http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/74433-marita-hansen

  Twitter Name: @MaritaAHansen

  Other books by Marita A. Hansen

  Behind the Hood

  Graffiti Heaven

  Behind the Tears

  Behind the Lens

  Don’t Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 1 – 5

  My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 6 – 10

  Overwhelmed

  The 5 Mafia Families

  SANTINI

  Ricardo (Senior) – the Santini Don. He’s bedridden with an unknown illness.

  Concetta – The mother of all but Valentino.

  The Santini children from the oldest to the youngest.

  Ricardo (Junior) – The heir to becoming the Don. He is 37 years old and unmarried. Due to taking an experimental drug eight years ago for his Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED), he damaged his nervous system, losing ninety percent of the feeling in his body. He now takes another drug to curb his rage.

  Salvatore – Age 36. Married to his childhood sweetheart, Rosa Aggio. They have two young children, Mia and Piero. He is Ricardo’s right-hand man and is very loyal to him.

  Valentino (Pirelli) – 35 and the love child of Ricardo (Senior). He’s not acknowledged as a Santini due to being the outcome of an affair his father had with a prostitute. He grew up in a brothel and is a hitman. His wife was murdered by Pedro Landi’s soldiers due to being born into the wrong family. He has two teenage daughters: Mira (18) and Siena (17).

  Brando – 34, unmarried, a hitman, and the only Santini with golden eyes. The rest of his family has violet or blue eyes. He bears an uncanny resemblance to the D’Angelo family, in particular Jagger D’Angelo, a man famous for his beauty.

  Anna – 33 and married to Sergio Rosso. They have three young children: Bruno, Cara, and Lena.

  Luciano – 31 and a widower with one child: Giorgio. He is still mourning his wife’s tragic death from a car accident five years prior.

  The Twins – Vincenzo (Vinnie) and Dominic – The rocker twins are 29. They are singers and guitarists in a hard rock band, which has a cult following. They are single. Dominic is also a “finder”, someone who locates people who don’t want to be found. He’s also very good with electronics and is fond of tattoos and piercings. Vinnie is an explosives expert and only has tattoos, not sharing his twin’s piercing fetish.

  Silvio – 28. A Catholic priest.

  Bella – 27 and wheelchair bound, due to the car accident that killed Luciano’s wife.

  Alessandro – Age: 27. He is 10 months younger than Bella. He was born prematurely and wasn’t expected to survive, but is now one of the strongest men on his island. He became famous after working as a porn star, his muscular body and sexual prowess gaining him a legion of fanatical female fans. He is also famous for his tattoos, which cover more than half of his body. His back ones were done to hide bad scars, which were inflicted upon him by kidnappers when he was fourteen. He also has multiple piercings, his Prince Albert and huge sexual appetite gaining him notoriety amongst the mafia community. He is currently working as a sex slave trainer for the D’Angelo family.

  LANDI

  Pedro – The Don of the biggest military might on the island. He holds a vendetta against the Donatelli and Rosso families for their part in his youngest daughters’ deaths. He is also raging a war against the Santini, who are defending the Rossos due to intermarriage.

  Lena – The Don’s wife.

  Irene – The only surviving daughter. She’s severely traumatized after witnessing her sisters’ murders.

  Marina and Petra – their murders instigated the mafia war.

  D’ANGELO

  (Their story can be found in My Masters’ Nightmare – a soap opera serial)

  Frano – The infamous Don of the D’Angelos. His family are human traffickers.

  Jagger – A slave trainer and Frano’s cousin. He has golden eyes like Brando Santini, and is famous for his beauty, which brings him nothing but trouble.

  Thierry – Jagger’s half-brother. His mother was his father’s French mistress.

  Alberto – Deceased. Frano’s half-brother.

  Bia
nca – Alberto’s widow, and both Jagger’s and Ricardo’s ex.

  ROSSO

  The Rosso family are on the run after they unwittingly led Pedro Landi’s daughters to their deaths when they handed them over to the Donatelli. The Donatelli set the Rossos up in an attempt to pull the Santini into the mafia war, due to the Santini and Rossos being intermarried. The Donatelli are playing a chess match, trying to get all the families to destroy each other so they can take over as the ruling family again.

  DONATELLI

  The Twins – Christo (the Don) and the Padre (an ex-communicated priest). Christo instigated the mafia war when he murdered Pedro Landi’s two youngest daughters.

  Matteo – Age: 27. He’s half-American and half-Italian. After the Donatelli fell, he rose to second in command. He is helping Christo to make their family strong once more.

  Camila – Jagger D’Angelo’s lover and Frano D’Angelo’s fiancée.

  Andriena – Nicknamed Andrea (an Italian boy’s name) by one of her sisters (Ghita). She’s Camila’s middle sister, and is in love with Alessandro Santini.

  Ghita – One of the sisters. She was shot in the head by Pedro Landi for being a Donatelli. She was engaged to Ricardo (Junior).

  Tito – A pimp.

  Italian / English Glossary for Ricardo

  Amore – Love.

  Bambina / Bambine – Baby girl / Baby girls.

  Bambino / Bambini – Baby boy / Baby boys.

  Basta – Enough.

  Bastardo – Bastard.

  Bene – Good, fine, well, okay, etc.

  Bordello – Brothel.

  Buona Sera – Good Evening.

  Capisci or Hai capito – Different forms of capire, which means to understand. Both forms can be used when asking if someone you know, or a child, understands you. In spoken language, the hai is often dropped: “Capito?”

  Cara – Dear, darling, beloved. Caro is the male equivalent.

  Casa – House, home.

  Cazzo – Cock.

  Come stai? – How are you? (informal).

  Concerti – Concerts.

  Consigliere – An adviser to a mob boss.