by Sienna Mynx
“Aaah... Mary, that is lovely.” Dominic paused from his pacing and rocking of the child. He stared at her. “Have a seat, Bionca. You and I should chat.”
“Siediti, mamma,” her husband said.
Bionca needed to give her husband some dignity. After all, Battaglias were in his family home holding guns on his children. Nicolas was a proud man. An honest man. He had rejected a life of working for the Mafia and struggled that his wife was forced into it. He lived a good Christian life and would give it all up to protect the family. She nodded respectfully to her husband in front of the men and took a seat.
“Ah, so I see. It’s Nicko that I should be speaking to? Not you.”
“May I have my daughter, please?” Bionca asked. Ella sat on her knee. The sight of her youngest in Dominic’s arms made her shake with anxiety. To her relief he brought over the sleeping baby and put her in Bionca’s arms. It was then that Bionca let tears of relief drop. If her family was to die tonight she prayed for death to be swift. She prayed hard for her children to feel no pain. She’d prayed that Nicko was not made to watch and be broken. Take them all first and leave her for last. She prayed hard as she kept two of her children close.
Dominic Battaglia stared down at her for a long pause. She opened her eyes to look up into his. The intense stare she was greeted with made her take down a deep breath. It was the thing everyone spoke of about with the Battaglias. They had the deepest blue eyes. But not Dominic, his eyes weren’t blue. His were amber brown, almost golden. And even more mysterious.
“How is my Catalina?” he asked.
Bionca frowned.
“She is well.”
Dominic gave her a wan smile in return. His gaze cut over to the man seated at the table next to Umberto. That man stood and stepped away. Dominic took the seat he once occupied. He clasped his gloved hands before him. “It’s Christmas soon. I know you must be anxious to spend it with your children. If you cooperate with me, we will leave shortly. Is that agreeable to you, Nicko?” Dominic asked.
Bionca’s gaze swiveled over to her husband. He continued to glare at Umberto who sat across from him. He was a hair trigger away from leaping across the table at her cousin. She reached over and put her hand to his while balancing her baby in one arm and her daughter on her knee.
Nicko snatched his stare off Umberto and looked at his wife, the spell was broken. He then glanced to Dominic as if just hearing him speak. “We want no trouble, Dominic,” he said.
“Of course not, I believe you. Umberto says you are a good man and that your wife is a good woman. A working woman. For the Mancinis.”
“Not any longer. Armando Mancini is dead,” Nicko said. Bionca couldn’t tell if he was angry that Armando Mancini was murdered or if he was angrier that Armando’s insistent chasing of Catalina Battaglia brought his family to this day. He predicted that Lorenzo would return. He ordered Bionca to quit. But she had refused. She loved the Mancinis. Armando was a good man, and she cared deeply for him. She couldn’t abandon him even in death. Now she wished she had.
“And my cousin Lorenzo has now moved in, is that correct?” Dominic asked.
Nicko gaze swiveled to her. It was his consent. She parted her lips to speak.
“Yes,” she said meekly.
“He brought Catalina with him?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“And... another person?” Dominic pressed.
Bionca gaze lifted. “I don’t know the name of the men he brought. They speak a different language. I don’t know anything.”
“It’s not the men I’m asking about. It’s a woman. What is her name Umberto?”
“Marissa,” Umberto winked at Bionca. Her husband slammed his fist down on the table in rage. The kids were startled. Umberto was not. He went from a slack face stare to a sly evil smile as he again faced off with her husband. The gleam from his gold tooth glistened just between his partially pressed lips.
“Cerca di stare calmo, Nicko,” Dominic grabbed her husband shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “We will be done soon. You don’t want any trouble for your family? No?”
Nicko dropped his head in retreat but he breathed hard like a matador refusing to be turned away from a charging bull.
“Good man,” Dominic said. He then looked to Bionca. “She’s not to be trusted. She’s never to be alone with Catalina. She is never to have access to her food. And when the time is right you will give Marissa to me. The time will be right soon after Christmas.”
Umberto put a hand sized cellphone on the middle of the table.
Bionca looked at the thing and then to her husband.
“Have you seen one before?”
She nodded. Armando had one shortly before his death. She saw him playing with it in his office. He’d flip it open then slam it shut with his finger. And then he’d make a call or smile if it rang for him.
“Good. It’s yours. Go on, take it, consider it a Christmas gift.”
Bionca reached across and took the phone. Her children all stared at it with wonder. “It’s how you and I will communicate. In the morning when you arrive to the Mancini’s you will report to me how Catalina is. In the evening before you leave I expect you to call and tell me how her day went. And on the day after Christmas you will get a call and you are to do exactly what you’re told. Do you understand?”
Bionca turned the phone over and saw a card taped to the back of it with his name and a number. She glanced up to Dominic’s eyes and gave a curt nod.
“Bravo. That number taped to the back is mine. It’s the only number you are to use. Understand?”
Bionca nodded.
Dominic then glanced over to Umberto. The enforcer removed two large envelopes bulging with money. He set them on the center table.
“We will not take your money! We will not work for the Battaglia’s. We are not a traditore like you!” Nicko said to Umberto.
He then looked to Dominic with nothing but dangerous prideful defiance. Dominic cocked his head to the left. “Are you not curious how I am able to walk through your door here in Albergheria? Did it not cross your mind to wonder how a Battaglia can be seen in Palermo with the war between the Camorra and Mafiosi?”
Nicko couldn’t answer.
“Not everyone is happy about the death of Armando Mancini. Those four Dons aren’t protecting Palermo. They are offering you and your territory up for the highest bidder. And that bidder is a Battaglia.” Dominic looked to Bionca to drive his point home. “Better the enemy you loathe than the enemy you don’t know. Right, Bionca? Lorenzo is going to claim everything your boss and his father built. Everything. He will destroy their legacy, burn down your tradition and values. He will be Mafia with the heart of a Camorra dog. There is no one to stop him. Not your brothers, not your cousins, not your husband. Is that not correct?”
She nodded.
“I am able to be here tonight because there are men, women and children who wish I could take the enemy you don’t know away. And I can. With your help.” Dominic glanced back to the bounty on the table. “You will take the money from Giovanni because to not do so is an insult. Do you want to insult Giovanni’s generosity now?”
Nicko glanced to his wife with a pained look and then over to Umberto who was rocked back in a chair on two legs smiling at him. With no pride left he took the envelopes.
“It is payment because if your wife is caught, or even thought to be working with me it will cost her, her life. Lorenzo will take her from you in a blink. He will come for your children. He will come for your mother. And when there is nothing left he will come for you. But I can protect you. I will protect you. And your people will get justice for the death of Don Armando Mancini. My Donna will get revenge for the death of her brother. It’s what Giovanni wants. Justice, not war.”
“She came to us, you know?” Bionca tossed at him.
Dominic frowned from his lecturing of her husband and returned his gaze to her. Good. She couldn’t stand him taunting and breaking down her
beloved Nicko for doing what any decent man would, protecting his family. She wouldn’t have the disrespect. “Catalina came to us. The servants told me. She came in the night with a gun and pulled it on Armando. She thought he had tried to kill her brother. She said she wanted to die. She said she had nothing to live for. She said you didn’t want her.”
Dominic placed his hands flat to the table surface. The muscle in his jaw twitched and he glared at Bionca. She rocked her baby and kept her nonchalant tone. But secretly she felt a sense of satisfaction that Nicko had stopped squirming and Dominic was now on the hot seat.
“And then she left to see you and that Donna Nera of yours. She and Marietta—that nera sister. I heard them talking. She was excited. She thought she was going home. She told Armando she didn’t want him. She wanted her family, she wanted you. That she would beg you to take her back. She had hope. You understand, Dominic. Servants see and hear everything. And I heard her after she returned from Mondello. Heard her crying—saw her slip into madness. Saw her locked in a room with a knife cutting at her skin to feel a different pain instead of the one your abandonment left. She went crazy with grief over the loss of her family, and again over the loss of you. Don Armando saved her. He did that. You may hate him. You may never trust a word from me. But I don’t lie. It is the truth. He took care of her. Made her happy again. And she was. So, I will help you. Not because of your threats, and not because my rat of a cousin works for you.” she cut Umberto a hateful glare. “Not even for the danger Catalina is in. I will help you for revenge. For Don Armando. The better man than you or your Don. Lorenzo should die for what he did to him,” she spat. “Battaglia’s have no honor.”
“Well, then our visit is over. Merry Christmas to you both. I look forward to hearing from you.”
Bionca watched as the Battaglia’s left. Umberto glanced her way when he rose from the table. He tossed her a phone charger and it clanked across the table. “Tell mamma...”
“Rot in hell,” she said to him. “I will tell your mother you are dead.”
Umberto leaned in and kissed the brow of her sleeping baby. He whispered to her. “Trust me, the hell I go to will be the one for Nicko if you don’t obey the Battaglia’s.”
Nicko jumped from his chair causing their three-year-old son to get to his feet abruptly. He glared at Umberto with his fist clenched. Umberto winked at her husband and strolled out. Bionca dropped her head in relief. Her son came to her knee. Nicko cursed the Battaglia’s and the Mancini’s. He cursed the world. He broke dishes and punched the wall. But Bionca was relieved. So relieved she was smiling through her tears.
“Stop it Nicko. The consigliere is right. Better the enemy you loathe—”
Her husband stormed out of the kitchen. Bionca held to all her children and soothed them. It was going to be a Merry Christmas for them all. The death of Lorenzo Battaglia would be worth it.
Houston, Texas
The moment her car pulled up in front of the ‘New Beginnings’ house the girls came running out. Jilly led the celebration. Shae was overwhelmed with hugs and laughter as she squeezed between the girls and tried to step away from the cab. Several helped the cabbie with her luggage and she paid the man before being pulled by both hands inside.
“Did you find him! Did you!” Jilly shouted over the others who asked if she bought them gifts.
“Alright! Calm down! Let her catch her breath!” Doris said.
Shae laughed. “It’s okay. I’m happy to see all of you, too.” She grabbed one of the girls and kissed her and then another. Jilly pushed the others aside. Shae hugged her tightly and squeezed her to her breast when she got to the front of the line.
“You came back so soon. I thought you would stay longer? Did you find Carlo? Did you? Huh?”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Shae smiled. “Now. See that red suitcase? In it is a gift for each one of you. But you must decide what gift you want.”
The girls ran for the suitcase. Shae was finally able to catch her breath. She found a chair and sat down in it. Her body ached from the long flight and she felt lightheaded. Doris shook her head, but smiled. She came over and sat next to her. “Girl they have been so excited all day. And I’ve been worried sick. How is the baby? Any cramping or spotting?”
“I missed them. I couldn’t wait to come back home. And my little bambina is doing just fine.”
“Bambina?”
“Italy has had that effect on me,” Shae winked.
“Everything okay with the Battaglias? You seem so upset when you last called me.”
“No. Carlo is in trouble. I know that for sure now. But what’s worse I can’t do anything to help him. All I can do is what I promised.” Shae touched her belly. “Take care of myself. Until we’re ready.”
Doris put her arm around Shae. Shae was heartbroken, but she held back on tears. She didn’t know what had become of the Battaglias. She didn’t care. She only knew what she saw and felt in Italy. It wasn’t the place for her or her baby. She had to give up.
“Ms. Shae?” Jilly said.
She lifted her head from Doris shoulder and wiped her tears.
“Yes Jilly.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Shae accepted the small box. She opened it and revealed a pink pair of baby Jordan's. Shae was tickled.
“I didn’t steal them. I swear. I got my money from the state. The money my grandmother left me. For school supplies. I used it to buy them.”
“That’s so sweet. Come here.”
Jilly came over and sat next to her. The girls were all excited over their purses, perfume, and shoes found in the red suitcase. Jilly only wanted to hug Shae. She held her close. “Thank you, Jilly. If you hadn’t supported me I would have never left to go to Italy. Thank you.”
“It’s okay. Italy sucks. Texas is where it’s at!” Jilly said.
Shae and Doris laughed and agreed. Shae set aside her heartbreak and joined the girls in finishing off Christmas dinner. After everyone retired to bed and Shae was left staring at the Christmas tree, she focused her joy on her baby girl.
“He’s gone baby, but I would know if he’s gone forever. We’ll see daddy again. Some day.” Shae stepped back and looked up at the Christmas lights blinking on the star at the top of the tree. “Merry Christmas, Carlo. Wherever you are.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Un desiderio di Natale - A Christmas Wish
Doma, Tanzania - Africa
MARIETTA FINISHED WASHING herself at the sink. Dhakiya, was the only company she had. Marietta pulled down her housedress and stared at the food.
“What I wouldn’t give for a cheeseburger,” she sighed.
Dhakiya’s head lifted. She stared at her curiously. Marietta chuckled. “Let me guess. You’ve never heard of a cheeseburger before?”
Dhakiya shook her head no.
“Well, when Lorenzo comes to pick me and the baby up I’m taking you to Burger King.” Marietta laughed. Feeling a bit winded Marietta wiped her hand across her brow. She rubbed her swollen belly and took a seat in the chair.
“I would like to leave here one day. See the Western world,” Dhakiya smiled.
“Have you ever travelled?” Marietta asked.
“I’ve visited Kenya, Uganda, and Somalia with my family many times. That’s it. Never left Africa.”
“Well, there is plenty to see. I’d like to show it to you, to my little one too. My baby’s going to rule the world one day.”
The women shared a bit smaller talk before Dhakiya encouraged her to eat. Marietta found the appetite to do so. The dreams of a cheeseburger and french-fries were set aside.
“Do you know what today is?” Dhakiya asked and poured her more goats milk. She’d learn to acquire a taste for it. Marietta could care less about the date. Carlo had once again disappeared back down to that whorehouse he visited. She saw him less and less. It was just her and Dhakiya now. She wasn’t even allowed out of her room for short walks any longer. What difference did the da
y make?
“It’s your holiday,” Dhakiya said.
Marietta blinked up at her caregiver. How long had it been since she arrived? She didn’t know. But she knew what holiday was next. “It’s Christmas?”
“Tomorrow is Christmas. Today is your Christmas Eve. Does that make you happy?”
The idea of the holiday sent her heart surging with excitement. This was always a special time for her and Lorenzo. Especially with his birthday being New Years. In fact, it was a big holiday for the entire Battaglia family.
“Christmas does make me happy.”
“It’s hard now because you miss your husband?” Dhakiya asked.
“It is.” Marietta looked down at her plate and tried to swallow the lump of pain lodged in her throat.
Dhakiya touched her shoulder.
“I wish there was something I could do for you. A visit, a phone call, something to make you less unhappy.”
“Dhakiya? Oh my God! You’re a genius. You’re a genius!”
“I am?”
“That’s it. That’s a perfect idea. I need to talk to my husband. I’m a prisoner, right? He needs to hear from me to know I’m alive. Carlo would have to agree with the holiday approaching. Can you send someone down to that whorehouse where Carlo hides and tell him it’s an emergency? Tell him something’s wrong with the baby. Anything to get him here.”
Dhakiya stooped before her. She put her hands to Marietta’s knees. “Carlo is not with Abedi or any other whores. He’s here. He’s been here.”
Marietta lifted her head and blinked away her tears. “But I thought you said—.”
“I only said it to you, so you wouldn’t be miserable thinking of why he doesn’t visit you anymore. He sleeps during the day and then spends the night pacing the beach. All night. A strange man. But he doesn’t leave you.”
“Then help me see him. Plead with him to come to me. It’s a Christian holiday. It has meaning even to him. Can you do that?”
“I am here to make sure he does not come to you.”
The confession knocked Marietta’s head back. “What does that mean?”