Omerta Book Two Page 11

  “Oh! Wait... what time is the meeting with the Santoro rats?” Umberto asked.

  Carlo ran the blade slowly up past Umberto’s jugular to his chin.

  “I said what time is the—”

  Umberto eyes opened.

  He looked up at Carlo.

  The men in the room got up from the table and began to leave. So went loyalty. The barber left with them.

  “Carlo?” Umberto gave a gold tooth smile. “Brother?”

  Carlo dipped the sharpest point into Umberto’s chin then drew it down with a very thin slice of his throat. A trail of ruby red bead flowed. The cut wasn’t fatal, but he knew it delivered a measured amount to pain to bring a rise of fear in his prey. Umberto blinked at him twice and froze. One sudden move and the razor could slash left and go into his jugular. No matter the amount of pain Umberto felt he knew not to test Carlo’s skills.

  “I do something to offend you boss?” Umberto asked.

  “The Pink Lady, you seen her?”

  “Who?” Umberto gulped.

  Carlo sliced into the flesh a centimeter deeper and Umberto threw up his hand for him to stop. “Whoa, wait... Pink Lady? Yes. I saw her, briefly. She came looking for you. Drove right up to the gates of Melanzana. I saw her. I spoke to her.”

  “Don’t lie,” Carlo said and pressed the point of the blade into Umberto’s jugular.

  “Let me explain—”

  “I know you saw her at my house. Why was she there?”

  “She said she had to see you. I thought it was a trap. Something Lorenzo was doing to lure you out. I swear!”

  “What else? What else did she say and if you lie to me, I’ll know.” Carlo said and pressed the razor in deeper.

  “I was going to tell you. I swear. But then Adara showed up pregnant. And I haven’t seen you. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything. How could I be sure?”

  “Say it, now.”

  “Say what, boss?”

  “Tell me what she wanted.”

  Umberto closed his eyes. The side of his face bled as did his neck. But he looked frozen. He looked as if he were a man bracing for death.

  “I told her you were gone. Left. You know the story we give.”

  “And?”

  “She asked if I could contact you, tell you she needed you.”

  “Needed me? She said those words?”

  “Yes, I told her I didn’t have a way to contact you.”

  “And? What did she need me for? Was in she danger? The Armenians?”

  “She wanted to tell you that she was pregnant.”

  Carlo hand dropped away. He took a step back. Umberto shot up from the barber chair and turned around drawing his gun. His hand shook as he held it on Carlo while his other hand grabbed a towel to press to his bleeding neck. Carlo paid no attention to the weapon. He didn’t fear Umberto. He feared the news.

  “Pregnant? You’re lying.”

  “She said she was carrying your child. She found out after you left. She came to Italy to find you. She showed me her baby stomach. She was definitely pregnant.”

  Carlo shook his head no. “That doesn’t make sense. She can’t have kids. She’s sterile.”

  “Exactly boss! That’s what I thought. I told her she was a liar and to leave. And she left.”

  “Why didn’t you tell the Donna?” Carlo seethed.

  “I told Gio. I told him she was in town. That she was asking for you. It was the boss who told me to send her away.”

  “You’re lying. Giovanni wouldn’t keep this from me. Why the fuck would he care?”

  “Adara,” Umberto said. “The boss had us taking care of Adara for you. He chose Adara for you over the Pink Lady.”

  Carlo blinked at Umberto. There was so little he could say. So he stood there silent.

  “I told Gio. I swear it on my life. I don’t play around with information for the boss. Nothing happens that the boss doesn’t know! You know the rules.”

  Carlo tossed the razor. Umberto lowered his gun. He panted with relief. But he was bleeding. The towel was saturated in his blood.

  “I’m loyal to you and Giovanni. I wouldn’t lie. I did what is expected. Even if the kid is yours she’s an outsider. The puttana could be—”

  Before Umberto could finish his sentence, Carlo turned with his gun and emptied his clip into him. Umberto was thrown against the mirrored wall and the glass shattered under the rapid blasts of bullets. Carlo didn’t bother to stop to check if he were dead. He walked back out the way he came. The music was no longer playing. The whores were gone. The men sat in silence, observing. He paused and looked at those brave enough to remain.

  “Make sure you drop his body in the sea. You all work for me now. Capisce?”

  Several of the men nodded. Those that didn’t kept their gazes averted. Carlo headed to the car. He needed answers. He needed them now.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Madre’s Grave

  Mondello, Sicily

  “YOU HOLD MY HAND A lot, lately.”

  Giovanni glanced over to Mirabella. She smiled for him. He smiled for her. He squeezed her hand and winked. “I’m fine, Bella.”

  “I know you are. No matter what we find in Mondello, we’re going to be okay. I was just noticing that you hold my hand a lot. When we ride together in the car, the moment we pass each other in the hall. I like it. Feels nice.”

  He nodded in agreement. The car held to the winding twists of the coastal highway with ease. She missed these cliffside roads. It had been quite some time since they drove into Mondello together. But the beauty and open freshness of the sea never changed.

  “I forgot to thank you,” she said.

  “For?”

  “Zia, I know you brought her back for me. The kids are so happy. She is so good with Lorenza. Did you see how the baby responded to her? She sleeps in Zia’s arms every time she holds her.”

  “I keep my promises.”

  Giovanni pulled Mirabella’s hand to his lips and brushed them across her knuckles. He had no intention of letting any of the deception go. But he didn’t need to tell her that. Not when he was so close to having everything he wanted. He needed a little more time. He needed to make sure his daughter was born healthy and Mirabella was ready for the new life he would make for them.

  “Thank you for always being in my corner,” he said. “Let’s focus on you. How are you feeling?” Giovanni asked.

  “We don’t have much time left. I’m feeling really pregnant.”

  “I was thinking that we could settle into Bagheria. Send for the kids and Zia in a few days.”

  “Before we settle in to Bagheria tonight, can we visit Catalina?”

  “You want to go to your brother’s house?”

  “It’s hers now,” she replied.

  “Technically, it’s yours.”

  “Mine? Why mine?”

  “Marietta never appeared in court to contest the judge’s ruling. You are now recognized as the sole heir to the Mancini fortune. It’s all yours, ours.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Catalina does. She wants the house and money,” Giovanni said.

  “Then give it to her.”

  The car slowed to a stop. What greeted them was the burnt infrastructure of their home. It was charred by a raging fire that melted walls and glass. So, little was recognizable.

  “My God. Look. That’s Villa Mare Blu?” Mirabella asked.

  “What’s left of it.”

  The car door was opened for him and he eased out. He waited to aid his wife. Her hand in his she emerged with a look of shock and disappointment on her face. Her eyes glistened with tears. He felt it also. The feeling of stepping into a nightmare.

  “I’m told it burned for a full day. Spread to the forest and the gardens before the they could really get it under control.”

  “Your mother’s grave?” she asked.

  He took her hand. Together they walked up the path that once was lined with flowers. Nothing living remained.
“Careful, be careful of your step. Go there.”

  She nodded and took her time stepping over the wood chunks to a more secure landing. Giovanni had hoped to see something familiar, but his men were right. He recognized nothing. He could smell the flame damage, smell the loss and devastation.

  “Gio?”

  He glanced behind him. Mirabella had stooped and picked up a doll, or what was left of it. “Eve left this behind the last time we visited. It almost survived. One of her favorite toys.”

  “I remember. Let’s head to the gardens, I need to see the grave.”

  “I don’t think I want to see anymore,” she sighed.

  Giovanni gave her a patient nod, and waited for her to decide for sure. She walked over to him. He put his arm around her waist.

  “Do you really want to see her grave, find it like this?” Mirabella gestured around her. “What’s the point?”

  “It’s my mother grave. I need to move it. I’m having her buried next to Patri.”

  “But? I thought you said she couldn’t be.”

  “I have influence in this territory now. She can be buried at his side. She will be.”

  “Maybe that’s the one good thing to come out of all of this.”

  Together they left out the way they arrived hand-in-hand they took the long walk around the villa to the paths that led deep into the forest. Or what was left of the forest. The fire must have raged to the point of madness. The beautiful landscape of trees, hundreds of years old were charred, chopped or knocked down after the arson. Some of his men had already started work to make it easier for them to clear the paths toward the beach. Still Giovanni kept her close and was careful of his steps and hers. She hadn’t realized they reached his mother’s garden until he stopped. The gravesite looked nothing like she remembered it. Where the gravestone once stood there was nothing but smashed and broken blocks of concrete.

  “The fire didn’t do this,” Mirabella said.

  “This was Lorenzo. He did this,” Giovanni agreed.

  “I don’t understand. Everything I know from Marietta about Lorenzo and from you is that Lorenzo loved your mother. Thought of her as his own. Why would he do this?”

  “He destroyed it because he knew.”

  Mirabella rubbed her husband’s back. “What did he know?”

  “My mother’s protection wasn’t real. She was just like the rest of them. She knew he lived a lie.”

  Mirabella stared at the gravesite and then the rose bushes that were nothing but burnt shrubs and twigs. Beneath it all Eve rested in what she hoped was peace.

  “He’s not your brother. Is he?”

  “No.”

  “He’s Rocco’s son?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Giovanni said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he did this because he knows?”

  “He did this because like I said, he knows my mother kept the truth of his past from him. He still believes the lie.”

  “Did she cause this?”

  He glanced over to her and stared. “Why do you ask that question, Bella?”

  “I dunno. I think it’s because of the way you are... here... now. Cold and unfeeling. The way you stare at her grave. Why aren’t you angry? Sad? Depressed?”

  “I have feelings.”

  “Sweetheart I know you do.” She hugged him. He hugged her in that tight, comforting way she had grown to love. There were two Giovanni’s in her life. The good man is what Madre Eve saw in her son and tried to protect. It was the man Mirabella married and hoped would be hers forever. The other man is the one that was one hundred percent his father’s son. Was the man she and his mother kept denying existed. She was learning to love both sides of him. And in that moment she knew his mother had never been able to. What broke her heart is that Giovanni knew it too.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Riposare in pace.” He made the sign of the cross before him and said ‘rest in peace’ to his mother. She took his hand and they walked away.

  Palermo, Sicily

  CATALINA HAD A VERY enjoyable routine when she and Zia were left alone to run and manage the Mancini estate. Her morning meetings with the staff were the same. She’d give them instructions on how she wanted the household tended too, hear updates on the staff changes and performance issues, give her approval for some of the decorating projects she needed to make before the baby arrived. It was her routine, and she resented like hell that Zia had been replaced by Dominic who now encroached on her authority.

  “Who are you?” Dominic asked one of the men.

  “Sono stato un giardiniere per oltre 20 anni, signore.”

  “Twenty years? A gardener for twenty-years deserves retirement.”

  “Domi—” Catalina interjected.

  Dominic continued. “We have gardeners in Bagheria. I will have your replacement here by the end of the week. You tend to the transition and the Battaglia’s will compensate you for your years of service.”

  “Domi? Can I speak with you?” Catalina tried to interject respectfully.

  “When I’m done,” Dominic informed her. He stepped to the next staff member. Again, he asked the questions and decided if the person would be fit for her home or to be let go. All of it done with no regard to her wishes. And she was powerless to stop him. Being defiant to him in front of her staff wasn’t done in their family. Giovanni could take it all from her with the snap of his fingers. She also had Lorenzo and Marietta to protect. If she did anything to upset her brother, his and Dominic’s wrath could be swift and deadly.

  With tears in her eyes she observed until she could take it no more. She was too hormonal and dejected for the real fight. She turned and left the morning meeting in search of relief. She stopped in the library and went to the chair closest to the windows. It was one of Armando’s favorite chairs. She sat in it and calmed her breathing. Her hands rested upon her belly were a sense of comfort too. She kept her hands there until she felt life inside of her and all thoughts of desperation passed. Catalina wished she could reach her feet. They were swollen and hurt constantly. She eased them out of her ballerina slippers and rubbed them together to abate the numbness.

  It didn’t take Dominic long to find her. He was surprised, however, when he did. She sat on a chair meant for reading near a window. The sun rays were brightest there. Catalina eyes were closed. Her hair had drifted enough from her face to reveal her profile to him. He’d imagined so many times her pregnancy with their child. How beautiful she would be. Even his love and imagination couldn’t conjure such reality.

  “Get out,” she said softly. Her eyes never opened, but she knew it was him. “You may be able to tell the staff what to do but you don’t control me.”

  The dull disinterest in his rise to power in her life resonated in her tone and cut through him. The heat from her rejection flared from his heart and warmed and flushed his face. Dominic’s jaw locked on the counter argument that he could easily hurl at her. If he wanted to, he could drag her into another un-winnable fight and force his will on her. But it would make him more of a monster to her than he already was. What he wanted was her forgiveness, her heart. There had to be some part of her that still belonged to him.

  She rubbed her feet together. His poor Catalina’s feet had swollen so badly her ankles were near gone. Her toes were plump pink stubs. How did she manage to get around on them without pain he didn’t know? When he neared her, Catalina eyes opened. He stared down at her feet when he spoke.

  “Do they hurt?”

  “No,” she sighed in defeat. “I don’t want to fight, Domi. I’m tired.”

  “Then stop resisting me.”

  He sat on the edge of the chaise while lifting her feet. Catalina tried to move but he stilled her with his hold on her calf. She settled back against the chair pillow.

  “You know I’m good at this.”

  He ran his hand over her foot and squeezed the heel. Her long lashed blue eyes never left him as he app
lied pressure with thumb to the center of her foot and moved his thumb in circular rotation. The relief was instant for her. He could see the stress drain from her face as her lashes slowly lowered and her eyes shut. Dominic, too, relaxed. He touched and cared for her feet in the way he wished he could the rest of her body. No words passed between them. He didn’t want to ruin her tranquil state, and he knew his presence didn’t give her comfort. He just shared her space and focused on the love he still had for her.

  Catalina wished for peace, the lasting kind. She truly believed she could only have it alone. Dominic’s magic was upon her again. His hands, his presence, his resolve. She felt safer than she had in months. All of the fatigue in her limbs drained and she began to drift. Did she sleep? When her eyes opened he had stopped, maybe long ago. He sat and stared ahead, not at her.

  “Ah? Thank you, Domi,” she managed to say.

  He nodded.

  “You need to get dressed, Catalina,” he said in the driest tone. She noticed he had a mobile phone in his hand. When did he take a call? She must have drifted to sleep.

  “Why?”

  “Dinner guests. They’ll be here soon.”

  He moved her feet, so he could ease out from under them. He took a pillow and used it to prop her feet for comfort. She watched him do these things and said nothing. The less they said to each other the better she felt. Dominic left without explaining who the dinner guest would be. He didn’t need too. Giovanni was near. She could tell in the way his mood had shifted. Tonight, would be for him. That moment he gave her, that moment of care was all for them. Catalina sat up and planted her feet to the floor. She put her face in her hands and willed herself to be strong. Giovanni believed she was hiding Lorenzo. What could she do to convince him otherwise? How far should she go?

  Mancini, Palazzo - Palermo Sicily

  THE PACE LOOKED AS it did the last time she visited. And that time felt like a lifetime ago. Mirabella held Giovanni’s hand as they walked through the hall. The staff that greeted them regarded her with open stares and forced politeness. She understood. Her presence in Marsuvio Mancini’s home without a living Mancini made her feel a sense of regret closer to shame. When Armando was alive she refused the relationship, he begged of her. Marietta at least made the attempt. The only time she ever reached out to her brother was when she wanted to use him. And now there was no making up for it.