***
GIANI
The Pisano estate, where the man himself held court, was intimidating in more ways than one. The gatehouse, for a start, was bigger than my apartment. State-of-the-art equipment kept the guards and their evil master safe as houses. Unfortunately, Pisano was about to be hit with a recession.
Carlo and his men were at their posts and ready when we arrived. Pedro and the boys were with Vinny and me. Dressed all in black, it reminded me of the Bruce Lee movies I watched as a kid. Tony and I used to sneak in the back of the moviehouse and watch reruns of karate films. The projectionist was a sweet old man who made sure Tony and I sat right at the back. He would even score us a box of popcorn, and if he was feeling particularly generous, a soda. Afterward, Tony and I would practice our ninja moves, doing our best to look and sound just like the men on the screen. Occasionally, one of us would take a foot or an elbow to the face, but after a quick scuffle, we’d be square.
My anger pushed to the surface again at the thought of Tony’s broken, lifeless body discarded like trash. My heart ached for my old buddy. Pisano was the walking dead.
Vinny spent some time in the armed forces where he acquired all kinds of bitchin combat skills. He trained his men in the art of hand to hand combat and other skills that made his team the best in all of Chicago. He preferred offering his services for a price to independents rather than the mafia. The money was good.
I was a crack shot. I spent half of my young adulthood at the shooting range. I mastered every weapon, from handguns to precision rifles, so I was at the front of our pack. The problem with the state-of-the-art equipment was that footsoldiers grew lazy. It was easy to catch people napping while the security system did all the hard work. Pisano’s men were no different to most goons I’d come across in my line of work: all brawn, no brains.
I lay on the grass about two hundred meters away from the gatehouse, under the cover of dense foliage. I had my long-distance rifle trained on the searchlights, waiting for Vin to give me the okay. Our gang of “ninjas” was ready and waiting. Armageddon was a bitch!
Vin signaled to me, and I fired at the first light, knocking it out like it was just another day at the office. I hit the others in quick succession, and before Pisano’s guards could scratch their asses, I took them out too. The silencer on my rifle gave us the element of surprise. After the immediate threat was eliminated, we waited for a few moments to ensure that the goon squad was none the wiser. Nothing. Time to scale the walls, in a manner of speaking.
One of Vinny’s trump cards was a very talented young man by the name of Pete. He had a bit of a shady past when it came to electronics and computers. He was high up on the FBI’s wanted list for breaching their systems and helping himself to a few of their secrets. Vinny treated the young IT boffin like gold, ensuring his safety and as much pussy as his tongue could cope with.
Pete made his way to the security system at the main gate, and before you could say arrest warrant, the metal gates opened up before us. It was almost too easy, but we soldiered on. Pedro’s men spread out across the grounds, securing the area as Vin and I, followed by a few close associates of Vinny’s made a beeline for the house. By this time, Pedro had joined us as we stormed the mansion, guns at the ready.
***
CELINA
I tried to distract myself with various things. I didn’t know who I was trying to fool, but it wasn’t me. I sat rather, staring at the wall opposite the bed, at a black and white painting of a woman reclining on a chair. I’m sure it was painted by someone famous and very talented, but one of the lines of her arm appeared off to me. I hated that kind of thing. My OCD had a field day with that sort of unimportant shit. I kept trying to look at the painting objectively, but the fucking arm kept me from seeing anything else. For fuck’s sake, Celina. Now is not the time to be an art critic.
I got up off the bed, took down the painting off the wall, and turned it around. A little act of defiance I guessed. It was my way of contributing calm to the shit storm raging in my head. I wished I could get my hands on a bottle of vodka. I needed a little something to take off the edge.
I paced some more. My stomach was in a knot, which wasn’t unexpected considering, but something else was wrong. I had a really bad feeling growing inside of me. Really bad.
***
GIANI
The inside of the house was quiet. We crept in and moved from room to room. Something wasn’t right. Where the hell were the men? I didn’t believe for a second that Pisano had given his goons the night off while he read a book in his study. As we moved through the empty house, we became more and more nervous.
“What the fuck, Pedro? Where is everyone? I thought your mole was reliable,” I whispered as it slowly dawned on us that he’d been duped.
“That double-crossing, fucking rat! I’m gonna rip his fingernails out, one by fucking one. He’s a dead motherf …” Pedro stopped talking.
In front of us, on the floor next to the office door, lay a man in a bloody heap. His throat was cut, and his eyes were open. He had the look on his face of a man who’d been taken by surprise. His lifeless eyes stared up at us as we stood, looking down at more of Pisano’s handiwork.
Pedro dropped to his knees next to Pete’s body. He was silent as he closed his friend’s eyes. He motioned for two of his men to come forward. “Wrap up his body and put him in the back of the van.”
It was official. We’d been fucked over. Somehow Pisano found out about Pete’s infidelity and gotten the hell out of dodge.
“Fuck! Where to from here, G?”
“Pisano can run but he can’t hide. Not for long. Let’s get the fuck out of here. Out of respect for Celina and Mrs. Pisano, I won’t burn the place down to the ground.”
We moved carefully back to our vehicles. We had to regroup and come up with an alternative plan. Pisano’s reinforcements wouldn’t arrive until the next day. He didn’t have the manpower to take on the Coli mansion. I was going to have to smoke the lowlife out somehow.
“Come, G, we’re going back to the office.” Vinny made sure that Pete’s body got the respect it deserved before he joined me in the car. He pressed a button on the dash, and the engine roared to life. Time for Plan B.
“This is turning into a shit show, Vin. I don’t want to be responsible for any more deaths. I feel bad enough already about the ones I caused because of my stupidity.”
“This was going to happen with or without you, Giani. Pisano’s been waiting for an excuse to murder as many Coli men as possible for years. This is about his ego, not your mistake.”
Out of nowhere, a truck smashed into the side of Vinny’s SUV. The car flipped onto its side and skidded down the tar road until it came to an abrupt stop against a tree trunk. The impact left me nauseous and stunned. Vinny was in the driver’s seat, blood all over his arm, motionless.
I tried to free myself from the seatbelt, but it was stuck. As I managed to loosen it, a torch shone at me through the broken window. A large man with a gun in his hand came at me.
“Come here, you little prick. The boss wants to talk to you.”
He dragged me out of the car and as my feet hit the ground, he clocked me with the butt of the weapon. I went down like a turd in a punchbowl. Darkness had me in its cruel grip.
***
CELINA
Frank knocked on the door while I was wearing out the carpet in the upstairs bedroom.
“The Capo would like to talk to you.”
Oh, fantastic! Like my day couldn’t get any more fun.
Dominick Coli sat behind his desk as Frank knocked and opened the door for me. He stood when he saw me and extended his hand to me.
“Hello, Celina. I’m Dominick. Please, take a seat.”
I was about to get eaten by the cat, I just knew it. Dominick was perfectly groomed, well-spoken, and very handsome. In his early sixties by my reckoning, he had an air of sophistication and poise.
“Thank you.” I sat down but said
nothing.
“I thought we could have a talk, get to know each other a little better. Would you like a brandy?”
Is a duck’s ass watertight? “I’d love one, thank you.”
He walked across to the bureau and poured us each a snifter of brandy. Then, he brought me a glass and sat down on a couch across from mine.
“Gina tells me you are a smart, engaging young woman. My wife is an excellent judge of character.”
“Your wife is a lovely woman. You must love her very much.”
“That I do. I’m sorry about the mess you’re in. Giani is a good man, but youth is too often accompanied by over-exuberance.” His piercing eyes watched my every move. It didn’t feel creepy.
“Have you heard from my father?” I asked while the conversation was still going well.
“Yes, he left us a message this morning.” I could tell from his expression that he wasn’t impressed with my father’s communication skills.
“What did he do?” I asked, not sure if I wanted an answer.
“He dropped off a package for Giani. Tony.”
I looked down at my feet. I was too ashamed to look at him. “Yes, Giani told me about that. I’m sorry, Dominick. This is all my fault.”
“Nonsense. You did nothing wrong. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. This perceived feud between your father and me has gone too far. I’ve tried on numerous occasions to mend fences, but he doesn’t seem too interested in peace between our families. But that has nothing to do with you, Celina. You’re collateral damage, I’m sorry to say, cannon fodder.”
He took a sip of his brandy and carried on. “Giani has strong feelings for you. I love him like a son, and if he wants me to protect you, then that’s exactly what I’ll do. I don’t want you locked up like a prisoner in that room any longer. You’re free to leave if you wish, although I would appreciate it if you stayed. There’s a lot going on out there, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
He waited for me to speak, but I sat in stunned silence for a while before the words formulated in my mind. This family was nothing like the people my father portrayed them to be. No gangster was ever a choir boy, but there were levels of thuggery. From what I saw, the Coli's were very low on the rankings of ruthless murderers.
“I appreciate that Dominick, thank you. I’d like to stay. I want to make sure I’m here when Giani comes back. We need to talk. Have you heard from him yet?”
“No, but I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Feel free to stretch your legs. Mi casa es su casa.”
“Grazie, Capo.”
Chapter Fifteen
GIANI
When I came to, I had a monstrous headache and my body felt like I ran with the bulls in Pamplona and lost. I was tied to a chair with the same asshole who hit me over the head, standing over me. He slapped me across the face.
“Good, you’re awake. The boss wants to have a word.”
He moved away from me, and as he did, I saw Pisano standing behind him with his arms folded.
“So you’re the little prick who thinks he can take what belongs to me, are you?”
“I wasn’t under the impression that Celina was a possession of yours, Pisano.”
He looked displeased with my comment and gestured to his monkey to teach me some manners. The brute hit me so hard across my face I thought he’d broken my cheekbone. I spat out the blood that pooled in my mouth and looked back to Pisano.
“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, you’re going to tell me where my daughter is, or I’m going to make you beg me to kill you.” He nodded to his lackey again, who unwrapped a leather scroll with knives and other interesting tricks. Among the toys was a syringe: my least favorite item.
As a sign of good faith, my torturer took a scalpel from its sheath and ran it lightly over my arm. The sharp blade cut through the fabric of my shirt, drawing blood as it went. I bit on my lip as the pain screamed up my arm. Don’t panic, Giani; it’s just a karate kick against the nads. You’ll be okay. Just keep breathing and focus on the monkey with the blade.
“I’ll ask you again. Where is Celina?”
“She's safe.”
“That’s not what I asked you. Willie, I think the young man likes you. Why don’t you show him some more Pisano hospitality?”
Willie, the wanker, grabbed me by my hair and yanked back my head. “Such a beautiful face. It would be a shame if you lost one of those handsome ears of yours. Would make it tricky to wear your expensive sunglasses, wouldn’t it?”
With the edge of the scalpel, he pierced the lobe of my left ear. It burned like hell. He pulled fast in a downward motion and sliced the lobe in two. I flinched a little at that. Willie got off on seeing me in pain. Sicko.
“Fuck you, William!” I looked the asshole in the eyes as I said it, hoping he’d hit me hard enough so I could feign unconsciousness. I needed some time to think without the bastard knocking me around. True to form, the lump of meat lost his cool and swung a good one at me. It hurt like shit, but I willed my body to go limp and changed my breathing. The hardest part was keeping my eyes closed.
Willie and his evil overlord had words.
“You fucking idiot! I need him alive and awake.”
“Sorry, boss.”
“Sorry doesn’t help me one fucking bit. Get out of here before I shoot you, you fucking moron.”
The goon left and Pisano followed closely. I wasn’t sure if they were the only two men in the room, so I listened intently before I opened one eye, slowly. That would be the pal of the other eye that was swollen shut, courtesy of Willie Wanker. I was alone so I scanned the room to find anything I could use to get myself out of reach of the wanker.
It wasn’t looking great, but I did have a slight advantage over the thugs, a piece of information that only my closest friends knew about. I could kiss my own ass if I wanted to, not that I did, but I could. Being double jointed had it’s advantages, especially when it came to getting out of handcuffs and a few other things best left unsaid. Willie Wanker would eat a double portion of foot the minute he walked back into the room, and I couldn’t wait to serve it up.
I wiggled my hands out of the cuffs, untied my feet, and moved to a dark corner of the room. The boys would be back soon, so I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down. Vinny showed me a few moves a few years ago; he thought that it would come in handy in my line of work. No matter how accurate a shot was, when it came down to hand on hand combat, the smarter man always won. He taught me that it wasn’t the size of an opponent that gave him the edge, it was how he used his smarts. I was tall, trim, and strong, but I was no Hulk; my streetsmarts were my edge.
Willie and Pisano were in for a big fucking surprise the next time they entered my lair.
***
CELINA
It was all so overwhelming. If anyone had told me the week before that I would be kidnapped by a handsome gangster, fall in love with him, and make myself at home with the Coli family, I’d think they were cuckoo for cocoa puffs. Yet, there I was, bunking down with Dominick and Gina, waiting for Giani to return safely to me. Perhaps I was the cuckoo one; all the Italian leather glue could have gone to my brain. Giani had been away for a long time, and I was getting nervous. I had a sense of foreboding which I experienced occasionally before the shit hit the fan. I had it often before one of my father’s goons would arrive at dinner time and whisper in his ear about something or another. They would leave abruptly, and later that evening I’d hear the familiar sounds of my parents having a row. After a few years I developed a feel for impending drama.
I sat in the living room. I couldn't face another round of pin the donkey on Picasso in the bedroom. I helped myself to the whiskey on the side table. It went down like a homesick mole. I was tempted to call my mother, to assure her I was okay, and when I eventually dialed her number, the call went to voicemail. I left a message.
“Mama, please don’t worry, I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. Call me bac
k when you get this message. Love you, Mama.”
I ended the call and took another sip of my drink. I hoped my mother was safe. Mafia wars weren’t for the fainthearted, and wives often took the brunt of the punishment of their husband’s crimes. I hoped she was long gone, hopefully in Milan with her sister. It felt strange sitting there, worrying about Giani and my mother, but not my father. All my life I hoped that he would accept me as a person in my own right, not merely Pisano window dressing.
I was a beauty like my mother, not that I was vain, it was a fact. I remembered when I was a teenager how my father’s associated and foot soldiers used to ogle me, behind his back of course. It made me want to take a shower after every ogle. That’s probably why I tried to help Victor. He was the only man who treated me with respect. Look where that got him: dead in a parking lot, probably because of an “errand” he would have run for my father.
I never got the chance to ask Giani why he killed Victor, but I had an idea. He told me that Victor would hurt someone he loved; I assumed it was a woman, but I was wrong. He was protecting Dominick and Gina. What a magnanimous act for the people you adored. He most certainly wasn’t the man I thought he was, thank God. I couldn’t live with myself if that was the kind of man I fell in love with. That would make me no smarter than my mother. My heart broke for her.
I heard men running around the foyer, talking loudly. I heard Dominick’s voice giving instructions and car doors opening and closing. I needed to know what was happening, so I moved towards the study. Gina stood in Dominick’s office with an ashen face. My stomach dropped to my knees. Giani!
***
GIANI
Someone was barking orders outside the room. It was Pisano, no doubt yelling at someone for breathing. The chair I sat on was plastic, comfy but no good for fashioning a makeshift weapon. I stood behind the door and readied myself to kick Willie Wanker’s ass, good and solid. I hoped Pisano wouldn’t pull out a gun and blow me to kingdom come, but it was my only chance of escaping.
Ruthless Captor: A Mafia Romance (Corrupt Minds Book 3) Page 13