by Sienna Mynx
“I’m not riding his dick anymore. An eye for an eye. That’s how this will end.” Carlo winked.
“An eye for an eye means my release. Giovanni is alive not dead.”
“An eye for an eye is for me. It’s for my brothers Carmine and Ciro. That’s the justice I’m here for.”
Marietta hands trembled. She was so rigid with tension she felt as if the air in her lungs had solidified in her chest. She closed her eyes and counted backward until the anxiety released the hold on her. When she opened them again Carlo was eating as if she weren’t at the table. She decided to do the same. They dined under moonlight in silence until dinner was finished and he returned her to her room.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Occhio per Occhio
A week later - Secondigliano, Naples, Italy
“GIO! SVEGLIA”
Giovanni head lifted, and his eyes opened. He blinked through his blurred vision. “What time is it?”
“You need to come downstairs. Now,” Dominic said in a panicked voice.
“Cosa c'è? - Problemi.” Giovanni sighed. He looked over and saw the finished bottle of Irish whiskey he had for dinner. He needed something stronger to take the edge off. He grabbed his watch and checked the time.
“Now Gio!” Dominic said and left. Giovanni rubbed his brow. Dominic was pissed. He had no clarity of thought to guess why. The past few days and all the bullshit collaborating they had to do with their enemies. It was taking a toll on all of them. None of them had been the same since the call with Lorenzo. It would be the worst Christmas of his life since the one he missed with Bella when he thought she was dead. Or the one after he lost both his parents. Giovanni’s first instinct was to call his woman and get some of her praise and love. That always worked when the liquor didn’t. But he couldn’t bare the separation between them or the frustration in her voice. Especially now that they were pregnant. On that score he and Lorenzo were the same.
He got up from the bed without shirt or shoes and started toward the door. Two days ago, he moved his clan, all his men that weren’t guarding Melanzana were now in Secondigliano. As were the other new leaders of the Camorristi. His was the best apartment. Several years ago, when he claimed this territory the men had knocked out the bottom floor to give him two apartments in one. Above is where he and his high-ranking officers gathered. Below was left for the rest. Giovanni went down the ladder that substituted as a stair passage to the bottom floor. There was a mixture of people gathered. The only ones seated were Umberto, Renaldo and Nico. Dominic paced while the others stood silently. On a table was a box. It had been opened. In Dominic’s hand was a letter. It was the letter that seem to have him most distressed.
“Dimmi le novità, gli ultimi sviluppi?” Giovanni asked for the latest developments. No one spoke. Few men could look him in the eye.
“What the fuck is it?”
“A gift from Lorenzo,” Nico answered. “The one he promised.”
Dominic’s face flushed from anger. He held out the letter out to Giovanni. “Lorenzo said he had it brought in from America. He signed it an eye for an eye and ended with his demands.”
Dominic then fell silent. No one spoke. No one breathed. No one except Giovanni. His rapid breathing matched the wild thundering of his heart. He ignored the letter from Lorenzo demanding the return of his wife. He ignored everyone. All he saw, all he could see was the half-opened gift box. The stench was like a fresh spray of rancid rotted flesh and it perfume in the air. It drew him in. How many times in the past had he and Lorenzo sent these very same gift boxes to their enemies? Too many to count. Other than losing his wife and kids there was nothing left in this world for him to fear. And then he learned in a flash, that there was indeed more.
Giovanni picked up the gift box. Nestled on tissue was an eyeball it’s root still bloody, and the iris murky—twilight blue. It was fresh.
“That's Wolf isn't it? He went after Wolfie,” Dominic informed him in a shaky voice.
“Boss?” Nico spoke.
“He went after my fucking cousin!” Giovanni flew into a rage smashing and breaking everything in reach. It took Nico to hold him down while Renaldo cleared the place of his men. Only his trusted remained. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the stress, whatever it was he could no longer summon restraint. He shouted as he drowned in his own pain. Henry Neil was his cousin’s new name in America, but everyone called him Wolfie. The time he spent in Ireland with his mother was the time he and Henry formed the kind of bond Giovanni only thought he could share with Lorenzo. And Lorenzo has always hated Henry for it.
“Calma, calma, piccolo fratello,” Nico whispered to Giovanni in his ear. When Giovanni seemed calm enough his enforcer let him go. Released, he took a minute longer to get himself under control.
“The letter said that we either send Marietta to Spain, to him, or you’ll get more gifts. It makes it clear. Wolfie is alive.”
“He’s dead.” Gio mumbled. “Wolfe’s dead. He’s fucking dead because you all know that I am not giving Lorenzo anything but a bullet!”
“We might be able to contact the Italians in America. Have them find where they have Wolf. Save him. I could make some calls,” Renaldo offered.
Giovanni put up his hand to silence the men and catch his breath. “Call Ally, his wife. See what we need to do to take care of his family. They need to be prepared to leave America. Go back to Ireland. She’ll understand. All our fucking wives should learn to understand.”
Dominic nodded.
“I knew Lorenzo was jealous of Wolfe. He used to talk crazy about him anytime his name was mentioned. But this? To do this?” Nico spat in disgust.
“Return to Melanzana, Nico. I want you with the family. Don’t leave. Ever. And no one without your approval comes or goes.”
“I need to be at your side.”
“No.” Giovanni fixed his crumpled shirt and tried to recover his composure. “You need to be there with Bella. At her side. Protect la famiglia. I’ll deal with Lorenzo. Leave tonight.” Giovanni plucked a tissue and used it to pick up the eyeball of his cousin. He sat down on the sofa and put the eyeball back in the gift box.
“Let me tell you three what this gift means to us all,” he said to Umberto, Renaldo and Nico. Dominic didn’t need to be told. As consigliere he understood the message loud and clear. “The Westies are now going to work directly with the Armenians through America. Wolfie was their target. Lorenzo gave them my cousin as bargaining tip. So, the business with the Russians is even more important now.”
“What about Marietta and the baby? Should we send Lorenzo a gift of our own?” Umberto asked.
Giovanni gaze swung to the young capu. “Are you calling me a baby killer?”
Umberto eyes stretched. “No, Boss, I only meant—.”
“That I’m so weak? That I have to cut up a woman and a child to teach Lorenzo a lesson?”
“I only meant...”
“Stop talking,” Renaldo said to Umberto.
Giovanni continued to glare at Umberto. Snapping his neck would release some needed tension. But he had to suppress those darker urges. He had to be a leader. He leaned forward rubbing his palms together to calm himself. One of the men got him a bottle of spirits and a glass.
“We stick to the plan. Lorenzo sees inaction as fear or weakness. The motherfucker's vision is impaired. Call Carlo and see how much longer we must wait until the baby is born. Dominic, it’s time to have Dr. Sera send Lorenzo a gift from me. The moment we are sure the baby is here, she delivers my message.”
“Agreed.”
Giovanni glanced to the box. Dominic was right. He could save Henry’s life. He could call in favors with the Americans and launch a rescue mission for him. But that would show Lorenzo and the Mafiosi that they had weakened him. Got into his emotions. It couldn’t happen. There was too much at stake. Therefore, Henry would have to be sacrificed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
L'ala dei diavoli
One Week Later
- Palermo Sicily
“SICILY LOOKS LIKE SPAIN,” Marissa said.
Catalina didn’t agree. However, idle conversation helped. Her gut clenched, and her stomach soured the entire trip. The car drove through streets so familiar to her. She felt a hand drop over hers. She glanced over to see her new companion smiling at her. “Is it the baby? Are you nauseous today?”
“I haven’t been sick in over two weeks thanks to your special teas,” Catalina said.
“Well my tea’s may help with nausea but nothing I’ve made so far has helped with your sadness.”
“She’s not sad,” Lorenzo said from the passenger seat. “She’s happy. Right Catalina? Happy to be home.”
It was hard to keep from saying what she wanted most to say. That the only happiness she’d have is the day she could dance on his grave. So, she kept her mouth shut. Lorenzo had won. What was the point in fighting him now? Her main concern was the baby she carried. Marissa’s hand left hers. The women rode in silence in the back seat as the car travelled onto Mancini land. When they arrived that morning, Catalina was heard by the courts. Armando had been declared legally dead. As his wife, everything was now hers. That included the grief and loneliness.
“Oh my, is that it?” Marissa gasped.
The cars drove along the hilly road toward the Mancini palazzo. The tall gates where men with guns waited could be seen in the distance. Beyond the gates loomed their new home. And she supposed to the naked eye it was majestic. For Catalina the place was too haunted with memories of Armando to be grand. Tears blurred her vision and she stopped looking forward.
Catalina had never thought of her brother as weak. She had never imagined Lorenzo as strong. But for several weeks she had waited for the tide to shift. She’d waited a long time and she saw no evidence of Giovanni’s power. It convinced her that her salvation wouldn’t come. She was in this alone.
“We’re here! Bentornato a casa!” Lorenzo cheered in a mocking yet sweet voice.
The car stopped, and he was out yelling his victory to the men hurrying to gather. The men who should have been more loyal to Armando gave Lorenzo a Kings welcome in return. Some of them shooting their guns in the air.
“Fucking traitors,” Catalina mumbled through fresh tears.
“Let’s just get out of the car and go inside. Okay?” Marissa said.
Catalina wiped her tears. Marissa got out of the car first and came around to her side of the car to help her. She was so grateful and vulnerable to her kindness. It was the women on the staff waiting inside to receive her that made her feel welcome. Bionca rushed over to throw her arms around Catalina and weep on her shoulder. “I’m so glad to see you. Catalina, per fortuna stai bene.”
“Sto bene—I’m well, Bionca. I am.”
“Is it true?” Bionca let her go. The poor woman was shaking all over. She put a hand to Catalina’s cheek and another to her belly. “They said it was, but I can’t believe it. Is it true? Are you pregnant?”
Catalina nodded and smiled through her sadness. “It’s true. Armando’s wedding gift to me.”
“Mama mia!” Bionca hugged Catalina once more. The embrace freed Catalina for the first time to really share the joy of her news with someone who loved Armando too. “God gives life, Catalina, just as he takes it away. This is God’s blessing for you and Armando.”
“I know, I know,” Catalina wept.
“Come! No more tears. We’ve prepared the room for you. We have everything ready.” Bionca glanced to Marissa with a hostile frown.
“She’s fine. She’s with me. Make sure she has everything she needs.”
“Prego, please, come with us,” Bionca said.
Alik remained at his side. He bristled over his constant presence but managed to cover his irritation. The last time Lorenzo graced the doors of the Mancini palazzo he had to move through the halls in a wheelchair. Now he stood tall. The staff that had served several generations of Mancini’s, and all observed him with unbridled fear. He liked that.
The office where Marsuvio Mancini once ruled his empire from was now his. If only his mother could see him now. It would force the evil cunt to choke on every cursed word she’s ever spat at him in his youth. Still he could only take a small measure of pleasure from his accomplishments. First, because the glory was shared between him and the Armenians. And most importantly nothing defeated the ache and panic in him over his missing child and wife.
“I leave in the morning,” Alik announced.
“To meet our friends in America?” Lorenzo asked.
Alik dropped in a chair and put his dirt caked boots on the polished surface of the mahogany polished wood desk. The corner of Lorenzo’s mouth twitched. He forced himself to ignore the lack of respect. Lorenzo opened the cedar box and removed two cigars he snipped the ends before he handed one over to Alik.
“The Americans can be very resourceful. It was the American C.I.A. who armed the Afghanistan’s and rose to power to defeat the Russians. You already have operations in the States. It only makes sense that you deal directly with them going forward. And they are eager to send Giovanni a message by making a deal with you. With both of them behind you what price wouldn’t you pay?” Lorenzo asked.
“That’s not all there is, and you and I know it.” Alik seethed. “Giovanni isn’t broken. He grows stronger every day. He’s collaborating with the Russians. As I told you he would.”
“All of his moves are acts of desperation... I broke him when I took Mondello from him.”
“And that right there is the difference between you and Giovanni. He holds his cards and you play your hand turn after turn without strategy.” Alik tapped his finger to his temple. “Now the Russians have all my information. Where I bring in the guns, how I arm the Turks, how I arm them all. They are gathering like a storm cloud Lorenzo and you want me to walk out there with no umbrella.”
“I told you, Alik. This would take time. Relationships take time. You deal with the Americans first and then...”
“Fuck time! We waited late on this because you were busy begging Giovanni for your woman. I understand why. I do. But I’ve gained nothing yet and I’ve taken all the risks.”
“Giovanni has to respect me now. Thanks to you, he’s lost Sicily and America. And thanks to me, he’ll lose the rest. When this is over we’ll be titans. Together.”
Alik shook his head. “I have a question.”
“Ask it,” Lorenzo said.
“Your little cousin, Catalina. She’s a beautiful woman. Even pregnant I find her tasty.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“What does she have to do with anything?”
“She’s a widow. And she’s the pearl of Giovanni’s eye. This I know,” Alik said and took another drag of his cigar. He blew out a ring of smoke. “I was at her first wedding to the Franco man.”
“Again. What is your point?”
Alik dropped ashes on the carpeted floor. “After you take all this Mancini bullshit, and get your woman, you will still need a strong partner. I have a lot of influence to help you outside of the gun trade. Those Afghanistan's have a lot of heroin they need to move. We join forces, we really become titans.”
“I’ll say it again. What does that have to do with Catalina?”
A sly smile tugged the corner of Alik’s mouth. “I want a wife. The one I have is no longer useful, barren. I want sons.”
Lorenzo itched to draw his gun and put a bullet between the eyes of Alik Yeremain.
“She’s ripe. She knows our world and she’s carrying a bastard. I’ll legitimize the child. You give her to me and we are family. How do you say it? La famiglia.” Alik chuckled.
“I’ll consider it. Let’s discuss it later.”
“We will discuss it.”
Alik put the cigar out on the arm of the chair and then walked around tipping over things of importance in the office and tracking mud over the Persian rug. Lorenzo gritted his teeth. There was no way in hell he’d ever let the cockroach near Catalina. Alik
was a necessary ally. The Armenians kept the Mafiosi tempted for a power reach. But as soon as he had Marietta back and the Campania, he’d teach Alik some lessons in manners. Lorenzo sat in the large chair behind his large desk. The leather felt right. He stuck the cigar in his mouth and rocked back with his hands behind his head. He smiled. The place really did feel like home.
“This place is beautiful,” Marissa said.
The men brought in Catalina’s luggage. Bionca turned down the bed for Catalina and then busied herself with setting up a meal she had prepared and brought upstairs to her. Catalina stood before the bed she shared with Armando locked in so many memories of their time together. She couldn’t breathe and speak at the same time. She focused on breathing. Everything was as he left it. Even his robe cast aside on the chair near the fireplace. She walked over and picked it up. The strong spice of his aftershave was all over it. She inhaled and closed her eyes.
A hand went to her back. “Do you need anything?”
“Marissa, I need you to leave this room, please. Never come in before knocking. Understood?” Catalina said.
“Ah, yes, of course. I can run a bath for you. I can keep you company.”
“Not here,” Catalina said. “This place is mine and Armando’s. I don’t want anyone in here. Leave. Bionca will take care of me.”
Marissa slipped a look to Bionca who seem to keep a distrustful eye on Marissa from the moment they met. Catalina ignored both women. Marissa’s friendship had come at the most needed time in her life. But she was home, and she wanted to be alone with what she had left of Armando. And this place, that chair, the bed, the half-smoked cigar in the ashtray was all him. He was everywhere.
“I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” Marissa said.
Catalina barely turned her head in their parting. She again closed her eyes and inhaled his scent in his robe. Bionca walked over and picked up the glass that Armando had left behind. “The girls were told to not clean this room. It’s hard for the staff to come near it. Forgive me, Catalina, if it causes you any pain. I guess they just didn’t want anything of his personal things disturbed.”