Omerta Book Two Read online

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  Omertá II

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Omertá II © Copyright 2018 Sienna Mynx

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, The Diva’s Pen LLC.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  PRELUDE

  OMERTÁ BOOK II | ACT ONE | Winter

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  Works by Sienna Mynx

  PRELUDE

  A Mothers Love

  Mondello Beach, Sicily 1962

  LORENZO REACHED FOR his mother’s hand. It was out of his childhood innocence that he did so without hesitation. Life would later teach him to trust the hesitation. Isabella Battaglia the sister of Don Tomosino Battaglia swatted away her son’s feeble attempt at comfort. The rejection kicked the kid in the gut harder than her fist often did. He was only seven. A boy with a mind too young to understand why rejection was a part of his life. Shouldn’t a mother care?

  Around him others celebrated. The Don’s son had overcome his fears and survived the daredevil jump from the cliffs of Mondello. Others ran to the shore of the beach from down below and Lorenzo held on to a slither of hope that his father would be among them. He wasn’t. So, the dejected boy stood on the sand next to his mother watching as two of Don Tomosino’s men plucked six-year-old Giovanni from the sea and tossed him in the air. Giovanni was his first cousin. He had accomplished a daredevil jump from one of the highest cliffs in Mondello. Last week Giovanni and Lorenzo had attempted a similar jump in Bagheria and failed. But of course, no one remembered how Lorenzo swam against waves three times his height and rescued his cousin from drowning in the riptide. When Don Tomosino learned of his son’s failure he made Giovanni attempt the feat again, in front of everyone. In a misguided attempt to win over his Godfather’s love Lorenzo jumped off the cliff, unprovoked, first. His miscalculation of how far he needed to leap off nearly cost him his life. And the only person at the beach to not care was his mother.

  “Madre?” Lorenzo mumbled. He shivered. A towel was thrown over his shoulders, but the child felt the cold from within. His mother turned her attention from the celebrating of the Don’s bastard son to him. Her deep brown eyes were a liquid pool of cruelty. They pierced and gleamed with anger, they were absent of warmth or love, and they bore into him soul deep. He could never stare into her eyes for long without the need to apologize for his existence. And he could never look away from their cruelty either.

  “Possiamo andare ora? Per favore. I’m cold.”

  “You want to go?” she rasped in a voice abrasive with contempt. “Are you going to cry now? Piss our pants?”

  “No Madre I only meant—.”

  She grabbed him by the ear. Lorenzo winced. Isabella yanked his ear so hard he crashed into her thigh and was forced to his toes. The pain extended down his neck to his shoulder. Crying would be the worst offense. If he cried in front of everyone she’d punish him severely.

  “You’re a useless little worm. Aren’t you?” she said beneath a snicker. “A jump. A single jump and you can’t do it. You pathetic verme!” Isabella lashed him verbally with Medusa’s tongue. A smile slithered to the right corner of her mouth. “I’ll make you jump again,” she taunted. “Do it until you get it right!”

  “Owwwie... ti prego, basta, fa male. You’re hurting me,” Lorenzo whimpered.

  “Isabella!” Eve shouted.

  The sound of Lorenzo’s aunt’s voice sharply commanding his mother’s attention startled them both. His mother let go of his ear and Lorenzo nearly sank to his knees but staggered from her in tears instead. Retreat was his only defense.

  Eve walked over. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. Earlier when the Don ordered her six-year old son Giovanni to jump from the cliff she wept and begged for him not too. She loved Giovanni the way a real mother would. The way Lorenzo wished his mother could.

  “That’s enough,” Eve said.

  “Chiudi la bocca! Don’t speak to me about my son.”

  “I will not shut up. You hit Lorenzo again and I will tell Tomosino. I said it’s enough.”

  Isabella smiled. She took a step toward Eve who was an inch shorter. Eve didn’t retreat, and Lorenzo instinctively feared for her. He’d seen his mother strike Eve before and suffer the consequences from his uncle. Isabella feared no one. Her mean temper knew no bounds. And Eve was what the villagers called a troia. A whore to the Don who was kept in Mondello for his pleasure while his wife was respected in Bagheria. And though Eve was younger and sweeter than Lorenzo’s mother she was always brave. She never retreated. Not even from the Don himself.

  Isabella crossed her arms over her breasts as her dark hair blew forward covering the sides of her regal face by the wind. Lorenzo was certain his mother was fixated on Eve with those same hard brown eyes that drove spikes of fear through him. The ones that never forgave. Always punished. Eve didn’t fear her. She should have.

  “You are my brother’s whore not the authority over me.”

  “I’m the one who lays next to him at night,” Eve began. “I’m the one who whispers in his ear. I have more control over him than his wife—and you know it.” Eve then turned her attention to the scared little boy. “Come to me Lorenzo,” she said.

  Lorenzo trusted his instinct to hesitate. Any movement toward Eve would be considered an act of defiance by his mother. Still he wanted comfort and would risk the consequences for it. He walked over to Eve. She knelt and smiled at him. “It’s not that bad is it?” Eve asked.

  Lorenzo forced himself to be brave and shook his head no.

  “Let me see?”

  Lorenzo looked to his mother whose slender left brow arched in amusement. Was it because she knew he was afraid of her, or was she smiling because she knew she hurt him? He wasn’t sure. But for that reason, he refused to lower his hand from his ear.

  “Let me see,” Eve coaxed his hand down. There was blood on his fingers. Apparently, his mother’s nails had cut the inside of his ear. It stung only when Eve touched him. She smiled at his bravery. Her blue eyes were clearer than the sea water. She had the prettiest eyes that sometimes looked violet or lavender rather than blue.

  “You are so brave. Do you know why?”

  “No Eve, tell us why the maialino is so strong.” Isabella mocked her.

  “Don’t listen to your mother. Listen to me. You’re brave because you’ve jumped those cliffs before Tomosino knew of the silly game between you and Gio, and I know you did it before Giovanni ever tried too because he tol
d me so. You did it all on your own. That’s what make you strong Lorenzo—believing in yourself.”

  She kissed his brow. The words replaced the coldness he felt inside. He warmed all over and hugged Eve’s neck. Once again The Don’s troia embrace felt better than any praise his mother or Tomosino, or even his father could give.

  “How about you stay with me and Gio tonight?” Eve offered. “I’m making sweets.”

  “He will not!” Isabella announced. “Come here Lorenzo! Now!”

  The boy pleaded with his eyes for Eve not to let go of him.

  “Please give him to me tonight Isabella. The boys won’t be a problem. I can take care of them both and make sure Lorenzo attends mass.”

  “No,” Isabella answered.

  Eve looked so powerless when she let Lorenzo go. She had used the last of her influence. She could only protect him so far. Isabella was his mother, and as the Don’s only sister, which meant she had to be respected.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Certo? We’ll have a picnic after church. Okay?” Eve assured him.

  “Come here!” Isabella snatched Lorenzo by the back of his neck, with sharp nails that cruelly sliced into his skin. This time he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help but cry.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, first thing. Be a good boy,” Eve said and her voice wavered with concern.

  Lorenzo nodded that he would try. He glanced back twice at Eve who watched him with a sad smile as his mother pulled him along in the sand. Again, he wished for the impossible. Again, he wished he was never born.

  OMERTÁ BOOK II

  ACT ONE

  Winter

  March 1995

  CHAPTER ONE

  The Aftershock

  March 26, 1995 - Palermo, Sicily

  “Svegliati,” Lorenzo said.

  “What is it now?” Marietta groaned.

  “No time to explain.”

  “Is it my baby?” she asked.

  “We have to go,” Lorenzo kissed her brow.

  “Why! What now?”

  “Lorenzo, let me help her,” Catalina said. “C’mon sweetheart, I’ve already packed your things.” Catalina pulled the covers off Marietta who sat up wide-eyed and confused. She obediently accepted the undergarments passed to her. The drugs weren’t working. When she should be sleeping she was awake. And when she tried to wake all she wanted to do was sleep. She felt her mind unravelling with each day that passed.

  “What are you giving her Lo?” Catalina whispered.

  Marietta pretended to not hear. She knew she had been drugged. She didn’t care. She wished for death.

  “Something to help her with stress.”

  “Don’t put that poison in her anymore. Okay? It’s not helping. She’s not getting better.”

  She heard Lorenzo curse as he approached the bed. Marietta looked up at him and pleaded with her eyes for him to end her torment. He kissed her brow, took her arm and inserted the needle into her vein. Marietta lids grew heavy. She felt hands on her and knew she was being lifted to stand, but her legs were weak.

  “Help me Marietta,” Catalina pleaded. “Let’s finish dressing together, okay honey?”

  She nodded that she would try. Catalina pulled up her underwear and Marietta moved her legs and closed her thighs to help. Catalina then helped her put the dress on. She was given clothing she had worn before she was stolen away to Africa by the family’s meanest enforcer Carlo ‘The Butcher’ Giordano.

  “You’re doing fine honey. Just hurry,” Catalina said. Marietta didn’t bother to ask her why. If it didn’t concern the return of her daughter, she had no use for the information.

  “Do you know what’s happened?” Catalina asked.

  “Giovanni? He’s taken my baby,” she slurred the words.

  “Yes. And he’s coming. You and Lorenzo must get out of Sicily. He has Palermo now. The Dons have agreed to his terms. You have to go tonight.”

  “I need my child, Catalina. If I leave, I’ll never see her again.”

  Mary, Mary?

  Marietta eyes rolled under her lids. The voice that spoke the name Mary to her was too foreign for her to recognize so she didn’t try.

  Mary. Sweetheart. Please look at me.

  Marietta opened her eyes, just a fraction, then a fraction more. A beautiful woman with deep dark skin and puffy thick hair smiled at her. She had hair blown out into an afro-style. “That’s right, baby. It’s okay. Mama’s here.”

  “Momma?” Marie groaned.

  “My sweet Mary, look at you.”

  The woman touched her cheek. She stroked it as a mother would do to express her love for her child. “You’ve gotten so big. You’re growing every day.”

  “Who? Where? Wha—?”

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” Lisa said. “I’m so sorry Mary for everything. Please forgive me.”

  “Mama, is it really you.”

  “Your father named you Marietta, but you were my Mary. My sweet Mary. Don’t take that poison. Don’t disappear. Don’t be me.”

  “Who the fuck is she talking to?” Lorenzo asked.

  “This is what the drugs are doing to her. Stop giving them to her!”

  Lorenzo nodded that he understood the danger of drugging of his wife. However, Catalina knew he’d found a way to keep Marietta’s pain constrained through the poison. And his need for control was ultra-high recently.

  “Marietta. Snap out of it. Snap out of it.” Catalina gave her firm slaps to the face. Marietta blinked out of her dazed pain.

  “Giovanni is bringing my baby?” Marietta asked.

  “No.”

  “I need to be ready. She must be fed. She needs my breast,” Marietta asked.

  “They aren’t coming to bring the baby; they’re coming to take Lorenzo by force. And me,” Catalina said. “Do you understand?”

  “You? Who are you?”

  “Never mind it. We don’t have much time. Put your feet in these shoes.”

  “Stop filling her head with that bullshit, and scaring her,” Lorenzo snapped. “That’s not going to happen. You have plenty of men to stop them from charging in here,” Lorenzo scoffed.

  “She needs to know the truth and you need to accept it. I saw Dominic. He all but warned me that it was going to happen. And you tried to meet with the Dons tonight. They refused.”

  “Fucking bastards! They’re cowards.”

  “Why? Because from where I see it they’ve been more generous than you or Giovanni would ever be. They told you the truth. They bargained with Giovanni. They’re giving him a free pass to return to Sicily. Palermo is his, not yours or mine. Either way you must go tonight. Before it’s too late. Now either help me with her or move out of my way.”

  “Listen to them baby. She’s right. You must leave. Be stronger than me. Fight,” Lisa said in her mind.

  “I don’t know how mama. They’ve taken my baby.”

  “I remember that feeling. I remember how I cried when I left you behind. I was sick with doubt and grief. I was weak, but when I got stronger I came for you. I gave my life for you Mary. Isn’t Lorenza worth yours? Fight back Mary. For her.”

  “I’ll try, but I’ll lose. You heard Lorenzo. He still thinks this is a war he can win. He doesn’t know the sacrifice we’ve made. He doesn’t understand it. But I do.”

  “Sure you do. You’re my daughter. My little fighter. You can do it. You’re stronger than you know.”

  Marietta held her barren stomach and forced her legs to move. She was broken inside and out. But she did as she was told by Catalina and her mother. After all she made a choice long ago when life was the most unbearable for her as a child to survive. She’d never given up. Catalina took her to a room to wait. She was left there. But she wasn’t alone. Thanks to the drugs her mother sat at her side holding her hand. Catalina collected her after a few minutes. She’d gone and gotten her shoes. Again, Marietta was forced to stand and walk. She managed.

  The war between Lorenzo and Giovanni had changed everythin
g Catalina knew and believed about her world. After seeing Dominic and telling him their love was dead she’d gone through another depressing bout of grief. She’d lost everything. She could trust no one. She volleyed between fear and regret daily.

  When Giovanni returned to Sicily and found her here alone, and pregnant she didn’t know what her brother would do. However, she did believe Giovanni would deal with Lorenzo first. And she couldn’t let him die this way. No matter how much she hated him for killing Armando. There had been too much death in all their lives.

  Catalina turned the corner and saw the men Lorenzo had gathered. He had enough money to buy loyalties—for now. But the Armenians were on the hunt for Lorenzo as well. Money wasn’t everything when it came to facing the enemies Lorenzo now had. The guns, of course, could help.

  The men discussed the plan. It was a disaster from the start.

  “We need to get to the pier before dusk, boss. They’ll think we will move at night.”

  “I agree. We take four cars and head south. We send another west. To throw off any suspicion.” Lorenzo said.

  It was a stupid repetitive plan that would certainly end in death. Lorenzo had taught her how permanent death could be out in the ocean.

  “You can’t do it that way. You have to fly out,” she said as she entered the room with Marietta barely able to stand. “We own planes from Armando’s companies, um, Armando’s transport companies. We’ll pay a pilot. A good one. You and Marietta need to return to Spain or go further. But you need to do it by air, not water. Gio will win any fight on open water.”

  “Everyone leave,” Lorenzo ordered.

  The men obeyed. He waited until they were gone before he spoke. Catalina sat Marietta in a chair.

  “What planes do you own? Everything was seized by the courts, with Giovanni contesting on behalf of Mirabella you own nothing. Not even this house. Marietta has more claim to it than you.”

  “Not everything was taken. When you were in Africa, lawyers came to see me. I own a company. It was given to me as a wedding gift. Something Giovanni can’t take back. Armando was going to surprise me with it. These lawyers can be trusted. They have worked for the Mancini’s for decades; they want to protect the interest of my son. They held back from revealing these assets to Dominic. It’s mine. For now.”