Mercenary (Gangsters of New York Book 3)

by Bella Di Corte

  “Can you imagine Ele saying that to her teacher?” My sister sighed, wiping her eyes. “Such a ladylike thing to say, Alcina!”

  I grinned and turned to the jewelry box, choosing a watch and a few gold bangle bracelets to wear. We were going to Bella Luna and then meeting Mari at Macchiavello’s for lunch.

  “I will need to have all of these clothes tailored for me though.” Anna sat up, looking around at all of the clothes and shoes. “You were lucky enough to get a nice culo. Mine is flat.”

  I stuck it out and she slapped it.

  “Puttana,” she said, laughing.

  I stuck my tongue out at her.

  She grinned. Then she became quiet, watching me slip my shoes on and then spraying perfume. She was already wearing the dress she chose and was ready to go.

  “You look different, Alcina,” she whispered.

  “I gained some weight,” I said, shrugging. “It has only been three months since Ele was—”

  “No,” she said, her voice suddenly hard, making me narrow my eyes. “You are beautiful. As beautiful as ever. Physically—you are perfect. This is deeper.”

  I turned from her, going back to the jewelry box. I threw her a few bracelets that would match her dress. She caught them and slipped them on, but she refused to stop giving me a look that meant she wanted me to answer.

  I sighed, running my fingers over the gold cross earrings with amber gems Corrado had given me in Milan. “I reach him, and then I cannot,” I said in Sicilian, being honest.

  It had been two months since our talk in Ele’s room, and for another month, I thought maybe he was going to let the past go. I hoped his willingness to be more present in our lives would have lasted longer. I had not seen him much this month, and even when he was around, his mind was not with us. He even postponed the trip to Forza d’Agrò to see my father. We were going to baptize Ele in the church we were married in.

  “It’s not as bad when you and mamma are here, because I do not feel as lonely, as homesick, but…” I caressed the metal, the feel of it comforting to me, like a rosary. “I am worried, Anna. Truly worried about him. He eats, sleeps, breathes revenge for something that happened years ago. Something that can no longer be fixed.”

  “Have you told him this?”

  “Sì,” I said, trying to take a deep breath, but it felt shallow, like I could not catch it. “He sees only one way. I see something different. I see the train coming, and I do not think I can pull him out of the way in time. Uncle Tito told me to change his direction, his path, but I am not strong enough. If I lose him to this, Anna, it will ruin me. I don’t even know who this man is who has possessed him, but it feels different.”

  Anna lifted herself from the floor and came to stand beside me. She put her hand on my shoulder. “You knew this was his life, Alcina.”

  I shook my head. “This is different. He can separate himself from the business. He cannot separate himself from this. It is like a dark seed has taken root, and no amount of light can make him see the truth.”

  “Did you say those exact words to him?”

  “Not exactly,” I said, sighing.

  She studied my face for a moment. “Would you rather him not be who he is?”

  “I am bound to him by love,” I said. “It does not matter who he is.”

  “When I said that you looked different, I did not mean physically. When I asked you if you would rather him not be who he is—I meant his title in this life.”

  “I knew from the beginning.” I shrugged. “I have no right to feel differently now.”

  “Maybe not,” she said. “But do you?”

  I went to turn away from her, but she took me by the shoulders, turning me toward her, forcing me to look her in the eye.

  “Listen to me,” she almost hissed. “This is your life. What do you want from it?”

  What did I want? What did I need? What was I really asking for?

  Him.

  I had always wanted him and our life—our little family. The specifics got lost in translation.

  “Life will rule you, sister,” she said in Sicilian, “if you do not rule it. Fucking rule it like the Sicilian queen you are. Your clothes do not matter. This house does not matter. Nothing matters but how you react. You decide what you want, what is best for your family.” She lifted her finger. “When you do, you find a way to get it. You are bound by love. So is he. I remember two people standing at that altar vowing: I will live for thee. I will lay down my life for thee. We are bound by one flesh. Two people sharing one life, Alcina. Sharing.”

  Anna and I both became still—we had not been using hand gestures like usual, but our conversations always felt almost physical, even when we were not.

  Corrado cleared his throat from behind me.

  Anna let me go, turning toward the jewelry box, tinkering around.

  Corrado slipped his hands around my waist, pulling me close, giving me a kiss. He always did before he left. It was a strange sort of place to be—not close, but still close. It felt a lot like the day I first saw him, when he returned my glove. I went to take it, but he pulled it back.

  “The day we met,” he said, like he could read my mind.

  I nodded. “You returned my glove to me,” I said.

  “You actually returned something to me,” he said, and then he studied my face before he went on. “Romeo Fausti has this thing. Whenever he sees a guy chasing after a woman, he says the guy is chasing after his rib.”

  “A dog after a bone,” I said. I knew the Faustis well, and this was something I could see one of them saying. For ruthless killers, they were also known to be very romantic in an archaic kind of way.

  He grinned and then shrugged. “That could be true. He’s referring to Adam and Eve in the garden, though. ‘The man gave names to all the livestock, to the birds in the air, and to every beast in the field. But for Adam no suitable helper was found.’ Not until he was made to fall into a deep sleep, and when he woke up, he was missing a rib. A piece of him, but in its place, the woman was brought to him. His.”

  “Do you want your rib back?” I grinned, running my hands up his sides, settling on his ribs. I loved his entire body, but that was one of my favorite spots. I loved to run my fingertips up and down them at night.

  “Already got it,” he said, kissing me once more. “The day in that pistachio grove. I woke up and found you.”

  He said the words plainly, like they were simply the truth. Like they wouldn’t leave my heart stuttering in the closet when he walked out of it.

  Anna wrapped her arm around mine, yanking me into her. “I am amazed at how different men can be. My husband is an honest worker—he does not do the things your husband does. But he does not…talk to me like that. He does not arrange for my family to be there when I need them the most. Fabrizio is wonderful in his own ways, he is wonderful to the world, but your husband is to you. He is cruel to the rest of the world, but you are his exception. He has found a way to love through you.”

  We walked out behind him, going to say goodbye to mamma and Ele before we left. Mamma had her out in the sun, taking her for a walk in the stroller around the property. I refused to leave her with anyone else in the house.

  Corrado got to them before we did. He smiled at her and picked her up, and she started to cry. He hadn’t been home much during the day. The time he spent with her was at night when she was asleep.

  He turned around and handed her to me. She calmed right away when I spoke to her, kissing her on her wet cheeks.

  “She just does not recognize you,” I whispered.

  He fixed his suit, nodded, and then left with his men.

  Bella Luna was packed. The line was out the door. We’d completely run out of Lo Scorpione. It was one of the most popular candles in the shop.

  Nunzio followed Anna, Brooklyn, and I out as we left.

  “Accidenti!” Anna said, smiling. Damn. “You are a hit, Alcina!”

  “Not me,” I said. “The candles.”
>
  She stopped before we got to the car, looking at the empty shop next door. “What happened? It looks like a nice place. Like a candy shop. It’s sweet looking.”

  Nunzio opened the door to the car and I slid in first, followed by Brooklyn and then Anna.

  “He was not there long,” I said. “He came to introduce himself and then not long after, the shop closed.”

  Brooklyn started to laugh. “You seriously don’t know what happened to him, Alcina?”

  “No,” I said. “Why would I?”

  She shook her head and sighed as Nunzio started the car and pulled out into traffic. “Two words. Your husband.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “He ran him off?”

  “I’d bet my date on it,” she said. “He runs this town. No one talks to his woman and gets away with it. Well.” She bit her lip. “That’s what I’m betting happened. I saw Halifax on his way out, and he wouldn’t even look at me.” She pulled her phone out and pressed the side button. “Speaking of sweet…here’s the cutest baby in the world.” She showed us her screen saver. It was Ele. She was smiling.

  I missed her instantly, and then my heart felt heavy when I remembered how she had cried when her papà had picked her up.

  Anna nudged me. “Mamma has this. Enjoy your day. You rarely leave.” She smiled at Brooklyn. “Tell us about your date.”

  Brooklyn’s face lit up, but it fell when the car came to an abrupt stop. We all flew forward, the seat belt biting into my neck. There was traffic, but nothing that would have caused Nunzio to slam on the brake. He refused to meet my eye through the mirror, but he looked more sour than usual.

  “Oh!” Brooklyn tucked her hair behind her ears after it fell into her face from the jerk. “He’s a chef at one of the nicest restaurants in town. His name is Michele Sorrentino. My mom introduced me to him. She works at the restaurant.”

  Anna started egging her on, telling her to borrow a black lace dress I had for her date, since Michele was taking her to his cousin’s fancy wedding.

  “My…” Brooklyn made a motion over her breasts. “Are not big enough!” Then she looked at mine. She and Anna started to laugh.

  I smiled, but I was watching Nunzio through the mirror. He had both hands on the wheel. He was squeezing the life out of it. I touched Brooklyn on the leg, nodding toward him, lifting my eyebrows.

  “I will tell you about it later,” she mouthed.

  There was a line for Macchiavello’s, and after Nunzio pulled the car up, he got out to open our door. Before he did, Adriano said something to him from the street, and he stood there talking to him.

  “Tell us!” Anna said, rushing the words out.

  “He…likes me, I think. But I can’t see him. Not like that. My dad was the same thing…well, he was like Corrado used to be, you know? Not that high up in ranking like Corrado is now. I’m not sure exactly what my dad did, but he was hardly ever around. My mom was miserable. And then he got killed.” She shrugged.

  “I never really knew him, my dad, but my mom would go crazy if she knew I even…liked Nunzio. Because I do. I like him a lot. But it would never work. She told me she would rather die than see me marry a man like my dad. And by ‘a man like my dad,’ she means a man in that life.”

  “Your life was hard?”

  She shrugged. “My mom refused to take a penny from the Capitanis, even though she let me see them. The only reason she did is because one of my best friends is my cousin. She’s about to marry a made guy. My mom has been obsessing over it—in the worst way. She says if you dance at one of their weddings, you might as well dance at their funerals. But I digress.

  “After my dad was killed, she started working a lot. Sometimes two jobs, seven days a week, to keep us going. She said she didn’t want a penny of their blood money. I’ve had a good life, but she’s bitter, and I never got to know my dad. Even when he was around, he was never around, if that makes sense. There are no happily-ever-afters in that life, that’s what my mom always says.”

  Brooklyn became quiet when Nunzio opened the door and offered her his hand. She stepped out, and I noticed when she tried to let go of him, he held on a second longer than he should have.

  “That is depressing,” Anna said. Then she stepped out.

  The restaurant was packed, but we were seated right away. No matter where we went, we were always seated without a reservation. Not that we went out a lot, not after the scorpions, but when we did, it was almost like the red carpet was rolled out.

  Mari was waiting for us when we entered the same room Corrado and I had been seated in the first time we came.

  “I love it here,” I said to Anna, even though my attention was elsewhere. Brooklyn had reinforced the scene with Ele this morning, and it weighed heavily on my heart. “The food is really good.”

  She did the nose thing, like I was lying.

  “You will see,” I said. “It tastes familiar. That’s why I thought you would enjoy it.”

  Anna and I took turns hugging Mari. I knew her a little better since I had lived with her in-laws in Modica for a while, and she would visit with Amadeo. Then we introduced her to Brooklyn. We all took our seats, looking over the menu, and then we ordered.

  Conversation flowed as Anna and Brooklyn got to know Mari better. We chatted about Saverio, Ele, the aunts, the chocolate shop, Bella Luna, and then Brooklyn’s date again. Before any of us realized, we were finished eating.

  “The food is so good,” Anna said, patting her stomach. “I think even mamma would approve of this place. I am stuffed! Anyone want to take a look at the bar area with me? I need to walk.”

  “I will!” Brooklyn stood. “I’ve always wanted to see it up close.”

  I sighed after they left, setting my fork down. I looked up and found Mari staring at me.

  “This life is romanticized a lot,” she whispered. “But it’s a little different when you’re the one in the story, am I right?”

  “How did you know?”

  She shrugged. “I hear things. I know things.” She toyed with her napkin for a second before she looked me in the eye. “My dad was…connected to that life, at one time. I was only five, so I don’t remember much, but he worked for the Scarpones. He tried to kill his boss. From what I’ve learned, Arturo Scarpone was greedy, and he was barely paying the men, even though he was making a lot.”

  She waved her hand. “Anyway. My dad would get ideas in his head, or so I was told, and once they got stuck, he couldn’t get them out. He was so focused on killing Arturo that he basically ran us into the ground. My entire life up until I met Amadeo was spent in hiding.” She sighed. “So I understand, whatever you’re going through, more than you know.”

  We both became quiet. She had her thoughts and I had mine.

  “Alcina…” She hesitated. “Did Amadeo tell you that about me?”

  “No,” I said. “He does not talk much.”

  We both grinned.

  “He doesn’t,” she said.

  “It’s familiar, though. I have heard similar stories. One as fresh as just a few minutes ago.”

  “Ah,” she said. “Brooklyn.”

  I nodded.

  “There’s no room for family in that life,” she said. “Only the family, and basically nothing else. It splits actual families apart.”

  “Your mamma…she left?”

  “Yeah.” She took a sip of her water with lemon and then set it down. “Arturo had her killed.”

  I grabbed her hand and squeezed. She squeezed back.

  A knock came at the door. We both turned to look when it opened. I sat up straighter in my chair when Rocco walked in.

  “Mari.” He nodded. “Alcina.” His eyes lingered. Then he cleared his throat when he looked at Mari again. “Would you mind giving Alcina and I a moment alone?”

  Mari nodded. “I’ll check on the girls at the bar.”

  I wanted to look at her, to narrow my eyes and shake my head, because I did not want to be alone with him, but I did not wan
t to make it obvious. I was not afraid to be alone with him—I had been before in Modica—but I did not think it was appropriate. However. What the Faustis wanted, the Faustis got. I suspected that was why Nunzio had not stepped into the room.

  The door closed, and instead of taking Mari’s seat, he took one on the edge of the table, one leg dangling. “You look beautiful, Alcina,” he said. “Marriage and motherhood suits you.”

  “Grazie,” I said, picking my glass up, taking a sip, trying not to look at him too long. But again, trying not to make it obvious.

  These men, like my husband, were not ordinary. Subtlety was an art form to them. If our eyes lingered for too long, he would think I was interested or challenging him. If I blatantly looked away from him, he would either think I was being rude or I was interested again but did not want to show it. Either way, it was a fine line.

  “What is your daughter’s name?”

  “I thought you would know,” I said. “You seem to know everything.”

  “I do,” he said. “I want you to tell me.”

  “Eleonora Lucia Capitani,” I said.

  He repeated her name, without her last, pronouncing it perfectly. “I am sure she is as gorgeous as her mamma.”

  “Listen,” I said, this time looking him in the eye. “I do not have much time. What did you want to speak to me about?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were happy,” he said in Sicilian. “I have always cared about you.”

  “I am,” I said. “So even though your concern is appreciated, it is wasted.”

  We stared at each other, before I slowly broke eye contact and took another drink of water. Some of the women in Modica said that the color of his eyes was stolen from the Sicilian sea, right when the sun starts to sink into the horizon. But he was looking for his great love. He would not find it in me. I did not have it to give to him. Never had.

  He laughed, and it was raspy and quiet. “You’ve always bitten back,” he said.

  I looked up and he winked at me. He stood from the table and started making his way toward the door. He stopped when he got there. “Have you seen Amadeo since you arrived in New York?”