Omerta Book Two Page 22

  “Please,” Mirabella gestured to her guests. The Bishop arrived with two priests that worked under him at St. Christopher’s. Giovanni had moved in with a decided decision for Eve to attend parochial school. Mirabella felt a tinge of anger at her husband for his unyielding stubbornness on the matter. Catalina was reared in the same school. She told Mirabella stories of the strict regimen of discipline. It was an all-girls school. No room for the nurturing and the fun Mirabella knew her child desperately needed. St. Christopher focused mostly on Catholicism, with little investment in science or the arts. It was a nunnery for six-year olds.

  “We are so sad for your loss. Rocco was a very respected and generous man to our parish,” Father Corrolla said.

  “Yes, it has been a trying time for all of us.”

  “We haven’t seen you at St. Christopher’s in a while. I’m told you had your baby,” Father Michaels asked.

  “I did. A girl. We named her after my mother Leeza Miabella,” she smiled. “We’ll have her christening soon. We’re thinking of doing hers with Carlo’s son and making it a family celebration for us all.”

  The Bishop and the priest smiled with approval.

  “Giovanni called me two days ago to inform me that your oldest child Eve wants to attend school.”

  Mirabella took a sip from her tea cup trying to gauge her response. She blinked at him and smiled. “We’ve been talking about it. She’s six now.”

  “Aaah,” Bishop Bonicelli released a deep sigh of satisfaction. “Scuola primaria is definitely where she should be. We have an excellent program. Tell her, Father Michaels.”

  Eve leaned in closer to see the adults. Her puppy did also. Her Mama listened as the priest told her about the lessons she will take. The school sounded interesting, but Eve was more excited about the kids. All her age, and all of them playing with her. She grinned and squeezed her fists together to restrain her excitement.

  “Pardon, Father Michaels. I know that St. Christopher’s has a stellar reputation. My sister in-law attended and so has other members of the family. However, I am looking at other schools as well. I just want to be sure that we select the best choice for Eve.”

  “Your husband was very specific. In fact, he inquired about our primary boarding school. We just opened it. Monday through Friday she can remain with us and children of her own age... we offer a strict discipline of—”

  “I understand. But Eve needs a different kind of program.”

  The Bishop looked concerned. “Is there something you think we lack?”

  “She’s a very creative and imaginative child. I’m thinking of something that focuses on the arts.”

  Father Michael’s smiled. “Ah, but she is young. It’s at this age that teachings of the church and our faith are most important. Think of it as the nurturing of a flower. How you plant and water is the only way to ensure growth.”

  Mirabella sighed.

  “True, and I’m not opposed to your school. It’s evident my husband favors it. I just think I should investigate all options.”

  “Donna Mirabella,” The Bishop interjected. “What about a trial run? You give Eve to us and we see how she adapts to the program.”

  “Eve is not ready for—”

  “Yes, I am mommy!” Eve appeared.

  The Bishop and Priest looked at the young girl, startled. No one was more shocked than Mirabella. Eve stood before them with tears in her eyes and a defiance she hadn’t seen in her child. Ever. “I want to go to school, please.”

  “Eve, we’ll talk about it later, sweetheart. Go back upstairs.”

  “Mommy! Papa said I can go. You have no right to say no!”

  “Eve?” Mirabella said.

  “Please mommy. Please! I want to go to school. You promise! You always break your promises!” Eve said in tears and ran from the parlor.

  Mirabella stood.

  “Maybe this isn’t an appropriate time, Donna,” said the Bishop.

  “Forgive me, your excellency. We’ve had a lot of change here lately. Eve’s been sensitive to her father’s absence and the new baby. As you can see I want to prepare her, sending her away to school right now may only exacerbate things. Can I schedule an appointment to tour the boarding school? Let’s say... ah... next week?”

  “Of course,” said the Bishop with a broad smile. “I’m sure if you and Don Giovanni come to our school you’ll be convinced as I am that it is the best place for Eve.” He stood.

  Mirabella kissed both his cheeks and gave a similar parting goodbye to the Priests who seem genuinely concerned.

  “I will pray for your family,” Father Michaels said.

  “Be well,” Father Corrolla said.

  She walked the men to the door and saw them to their waiting car. She watched them leave. The moment they parted the gates Mirabella marched back inside. She asked two of the staff members if they’d seen Eve. No one had. She was relieved to find her little girl in her room lying in her bed crying. Mirabella approached her daughter feeling as if her own heart wasn’t working. She was numb with pain over Eve’s distress. And guilt from not understanding Eve’s needs sooner.

  “Eve?”

  “Go away, mommy. Please leave me alone.”

  “Sweetheart. Why are you crying? Don’t cry. Please come here.”

  Eve refused. Mirabella had to pull her off her pillow and into her arms. Eve cried against her breast. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

  “You don’t care.”

  “I do, Eve. When have I not cared?”

  “Always. You don’t care. You and Papa pretend, but you don’t!”

  “Is it the baby?”

  “No! Just leave me alone!” Eve pushed away from Mirabella and got off the bed. She stood on the other side of it. Her face tight with rage. “I don’t want you! I don’t want Papa! Not anymore,” Eve said.

  Mirabella frowned. Eve stared at her as if she expected her mother to retaliate with punishment or chastising words. She looked prepared for whatever verbal fight was to come next.

  “That hurts my feelings sweetie because I want you. I have always wanted you. Mama is sorry that you don’t understand.”

  “No one stays, not Zia Marietta, not Zia Catalina, not Zio Rocco. Where is Zio Lorenzo? Where is Domi? Where have they all gone?”

  “I—ah—we talked about Rocco, he, ugh, he died Eve.”

  “No!”

  “Eve when a person dies they— “

  “Nooooo!” Eve put her hands to her ears. “I don’t want to be here anymore with the dead.”

  “Do you really want to leave the family? Sleep somewhere else? Be away from us?”

  “I want school!” she burst into tears.

  “Okay, honey. You’re growing up. You’re so smart, you’re so special. I know you are a strong girl. My firefly.”

  “Stop calling me that!” Eve cried. “I’m Eve! I’m Evie!”

  “Eve, honey, I’m trying to understand? Do you want me to call Papa?”

  Eve shook her head crying. “I want to go to school. I want friends. I want to leave here! Belinda leaves. You leave too. I never do. I want to go to school!”

  “Okay. Then you will go to school. But first, can we visit different schools?”

  “Why?” Eve wiped her face with the back of her hands.

  “So you can choose. Not mama, and not Papa. This time you decide. There are so many fun schools we have to make sure you chose the right one.”

  “Really? When? When can we go?”

  “I’m going to make some calls right now and we will go tomorrow. Promise.”

  Eve smiled. “Grazie, madre.”

  “I’m so sad that you are confused. Can I have a hug?”

  Eve ran around her bed to her mother in full tears. Mirabella felt such relief to have her back in her arms and happy. She rubbed her golden-brown curly hair and held her close.

  “It’s okay, baby. I promise it will be okay. I’m going to fix everything. I love you so much, Eve. You’re my first baby. Mama
is going to make sure you don’t have to worry anymore about being left behind.”

  “I’m sorry mommy for yelling,” Eve said. “I lied. I do want you. I want you and Papa.”

  “Let’s go downstairs and have lunch. But first we clean your face so we can show everyone my sweet girl is all grown up now. A schoolgirl.”

  “A schoolgirl,” Eve nodded and grinned. “I’m going to school.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Day of the Dead

  The Aegean Sea

  OH, GOD. PLEASE... please help him. A cold press of a damp cloth was pressed to his face. He hurt everywhere. The pain seem to radiate hottest around the eye that wouldn’t open.

  “Lorenzo,” Marietta whispered. The sound of her voice was additional comfort. He groaned. He tried to move. He couldn’t. His wrists were locked behind his back in iron cuffs. Too tight for him to even wiggle his fingers.

  “Thank you, God! I thought... I thought you were dead,” she said through her tears.

  “Not yet! He will be.” A male voice remarked.

  Lorenzo turned his head despite her tight hug and tug to his neck. He could see out of his good eye. His vision cleared. They weren’t alone. Whoever the man was the bastard held a gun and it was aimed at him and his wife. Marietta continued to hug him to her chest. She kissed his face and turned his head to inspect his bruises. She leaned in closer so her mouth was close to his when she spoke.

  She whispered again: “They have us on a boat. They’re Russians.”

  He registered it all. At the top of the list of those who wanted him dead, the Russians, were supposed to be his allies in this war. He had made a deal. It didn’t take long for him to accept that the deal was a trap. It was all a lie. And now he was in the enemy’s hands.

  “Please take the cuffs off. He’s hurt. He needs medical attention.”

  The man with the gun chuckled. He walked over. Lorenzo anticipated the blow before Marietta did. So, he braced for it. The maggot kicked him in the gut with all his might. Marietta screamed enraged over the offense. She dropped her husband. Lorenzo’s head smacked the hard floor sending another spear of pain through his skull. She lunged for the man but received a backhanded slap that knocked her to the floor. Lorenzo again tried to summon enough strength to break free. He could only get to his knees before he suffered another wave of dizziness. The man laughed and spit on him.

  “You fucking bastard! He’ll kill you! Do you hear me?” Marietta screamed. “My Lo will kill you!”

  “Stai zitta e mantieni la calma, Marietta,” Lorenzo wheezed.

  Marietta stopped with her threats and looked down at him. He tried again to tell her to be quiet and stay calm. Lorenzo was flat to his back now with a glob of the man’s spit on his cheek. He managed to give her a half-smile. She wiped his face with the wet cloth and leaned in and kissed his brow.

  “I love you,” she said softly. “Hang on. My momma says it will be alright.”

  Her mother? Lorenzo frowned. He could only see her with one eye. There was a wildness in her eyes; a different kind of madness.

  “We’re going to get out of here. Mama, says it’s only six or seven on the boat. We can do this. We just have to stay strong.”

  He rested on those words, focused on those words no matter how crazy they sounded as he summoned his inner strength. His bambina was right. The moment he was strong enough he’d get out of his restraints and kill them all.

  GIOVANNI WAS THE LAST to board the boat. Topside were several of his men. He went below and found Renaldo and the others gathered around a map. It covered more than half the table.

  “Do we have him?” Gio asked.

  “Yes, we should reach them by tomorrow afternoon. We got him.”

  “And Marietta?”

  Renaldo looked over to one of his capu’s to confirm the answer. The man nodded. Giovanni’s gaze swiveled to the young girl with Lorenza in her arms. The baby held the bottle she sucked by herself. The girl gave him a reassuring nod that the baby was doing okay with the journey.

  “Let’s get there. Now.”

  “Gio? Can we speak?” Renaldo walked off toward the tight corridor that led to the cabin on the boat. Giovanni followed him inside the tight corridor.

  “What is it?”

  “A call. Santoro’s sons have been picked up. Polizia got them at the port in Naples.”

  “When?”

  “Yesterday. I put in a call in to Carlo. We need to contain this. Don Santoro has reached out. They were undermining business with the Russians. Lately the Santoro’s and Russians haven’t been getting along. Don Santoro feels like this was set up by them or you.”

  Giovanni shook his head. “I can’t have anything going wrong now. Make sure Carlo can handle it. Send in Dominic if we need too.”

  “And if it goes south, which way will you land? Carlo needs to know.”

  Giovanni scratched his brow. He never thought he’d see the day he’d side against a fellow countryman. But the greater plan demanded it. “If Carlo can’t contain it then he is to side with the Russians.”

  “The Camorristi may be a problem if we publicly side with the Russians.”

  “Don Santoro has never played by the rules since he was allowed into the alliance. I know the relationship is delicate. I know everyone has concerns about my ability to stay loyal to the collective. But if Santoro steps out of line with the Russians, the Camorristi will have to side with me. We’ll make sure of it.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Renaldo said.

  “What can you tell me about Lorenzo and Marietta? What am I walking into?”

  “Lorenzo took a beating but he is alive. No one touched Marietta.”

  “Anything else?” Giovanni looked up.

  “I’m with you, boss. But if you decide to change your mind—”

  “Do I look like I want to change my mind?” Giovanni asked.

  Renaldo gave him a respectful nod. He left first. Giovanni dropped back against the door. He itched to call his wife and solve a simple problem for her to give him strength to face his bigger ones. But Mirabella in his ear would possibly weaken him as well. He’d come this far. It was time to see it through. Giovanni removed his gun and held it. He was ready.

  LORENZO MAY HAVE BLACKED out again. He wasn’t sure. Consciousness returned after a deep heat wave went through his skull. And the energy was enough to blast him awake. He heard men arguing. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out of it but it was long enough for only one of his eyes to open. The swelling in his face was still there matched with the pain. He regained control of his body the more he rested. To his surprise his hands were now free of his restraints. The arguing continued in Russian. One man shouted over the other. And the one with the louder more commanding voice struck the other man in the face with a gun.

  “Marie?” Lorenzo wheezed.

  “Lo?” Marietta crawled back over to him. It was her response or his question that stopped the melee. The man with the gun turned and looked at them both. Marietta tried to shield her husband. It prevented Lorenzo from seeing him clearly.

  “Sit up!” The man demanded through clenched teeth.

  “Stay away from him,” Marietta said.

  The man leveled the gun at them both. Marietta helped Lorenzo sit up and put his back to the cabin wall. The tall man with a shaven head, missing eyebrows, and long blonde beard glared at them. Two other men arrived. They dragged out the original tormentor, kicker, overall asshole who was bleeding from the face after the beating. The man with the beard pulled a chair and turned it around so he could straddle it as if he wanted to have a conversation.

  “I speak Italian. You understand me? No?”

  Lorenzo didn’t respond but he could sense that Marietta nodded her head.

  “Good. Good. Forgive Igor. He is a nothing. A sewer rat. You are guests of Tarzan the Great. And I am Dorph, your guide,” the man half-joked. “You need food, and clean bandages. My men—” Dorph looked back and two men began to drop su
pplies to them. “Will see to your needs and care.”

  Marietta remained frozen and distrustful. Lorenzo swallowed what tasted like razorblades before he found his voice.

  “Who is Tarzan?”

  Dorph eyes stretched in surprise. “Tarzan is the one that keeps a bullet from you and your wife. Tarzan is your benefactor. The invited guests of Tarzan arrive to the jungle soon.”

  “Jungle? You’re taking us to the jungle? Where? Africa?” Marietta asked.

  The man let go a peal of laughter. He turned red as a beet in the face. He shook his head smiling. He had big white teeth. With his yellow-blonde beard, clear grey eyes, shaven head, and pale albino white skin, he looked ghoulish. “The Jungle is the name of the yacht you are traveling on.”

  “Where are we going?” Marietta asked.

  “We are in the Adriatic Sea. Closest to Croatia. That’s all I can say.” The man stood. He stared at Lorenzo. “You are a fighter. No? I lost two men when we tried to take you down. Very strong. I respect that.” He then turned his gaze to Marietta. “Igor should have never put a hand on you. I don’t believe in violence toward women. I will give him a proper burial at sea and say your name when I spit on his watery grave. Eh? Accept my apologies.”

  “Fuck you,” Marietta said.

  The bearded man again laughed, and his large teeth sparkled white. “Ah yes. Fuck me. If only you would give me the pleasure. Never had one like you,” he winked.

  Lorenzo reached over and squeezed Marietta’s hand to silence her. She lowered her gaze and held her tongue to quiet a sharp comeback.

  “This boat is yours. I’m leaving a captain with you and several of my men. They will not harm you if you stay to the back. Try to leave and I’ve ordered them to shoot on sight. Even Tarzan has his limits. There is a room to the furthest back with a bed, and a shower. I suggest you heal quickly. You’re in for a special surprise.”

  Dorph left and didn’t bother to close the door. It was then Lorenzo realized the boat wasn’t moving. They must have dropped anchor.