Omerta Book Two Page 25

“Keep this on her head,” the young woman said. She pulled down a little knit cap that fit snug. Lorenza began to cry in protest, but Giovanni rocked her and patted her back. She again trusted his touch.

  “Goodbye, cara,” the young woman said.

  Giovanni walked out by escort to the topside of the boat. There was a total of six boats in the water. All of them surrounding the one boat with Lorenzo and Marietta. Giovanni had to board a smaller speed boat carefully. It wobbled beneath his feet and the baby in his arms moved her arms and kicked her feet in excitement. He covered the child’s face with the blanket and the boat sped over to the anchored yacht waiting for them. Renaldo was with him, as were two other of his enforcers. When they arrived, and the ladder was extended for him to board he had to hand the child over to a person who reached for her. The exchange went smoothly. Giovanni boarded first, and his men came on last.

  “Don Giovanni!” Tarzan bellowed. He walked over a sly smile. “How was your trip?”

  “It went without incident.”

  Tarzan chuckled. He looked to the child who peeked out from behind the blanket half covering her face. “Aah... so this is the little one?”

  “Where are they?”

  “Below,” Tarzan said. “And we’re ready. I want to thank you for this opportunity, Giovanni. I’ve looked forward to seeing this day for your cousin. Ever since my comrade fell.”

  Giovanni ignored the praise and went below.

  MARIETTA SAT NEXT TO Lorenzo. She kept her eyes closed mostly. She was on the verge of having a panic attack. Even the comforting sounds of her mother’s voice in her head had stopped. She was alone in her misery. The men who watched them with guns went up above. She opened her eyes and looked at Lorenzo. His gaze was trained on the stairs that led to the unknown.

  “Lo?”

  He didn’t respond.

  They heard voices and she recognized one. Then they heard steps. Down came the first of them. Down came Giovanni. And in his arms was Marietta’s heart. She stood on shaky legs unable to capture her breath. She stuttered out a reply. “Lo-ren-za?”

  Giovanni’s cold unyielding stare impaled Marietta. For all her impulsive actions she wasn’t prone to make one now. She held her breath and summoned restraint. Lorenzo stood next to her. He too was focused on their daughter. Together they watched as Giovanni removed the blanket from her sweet baby girl and moved her from the cradle of his arm to upright so they could see her.

  “It’s her. Oh sweet merciful God. She’s beautiful,” Marietta said after she gasped. Her baby was three months old. She had a round face and chubby arms and legs. She had dark curly locs and the brightest eyes. She looked at Marietta and then Lorenzo with a curious stare. She sucked her pacifier but had no other reaction to either of them.

  “Hi baby girl, it’s me. It’s your mama.”

  Her daughter dropped her head on Giovanni’s shoulder. Anger coiled tighter than a pretzel knot in Marietta’s stomach. She wanted to scream at Giovanni. Say all the things the hatred in her heart carried for him. But she wanted her daughter even more. So, she forced herself to remain calm.

  “Can I have my baby, please?” Marietta asked. “Please?”

  Giovanni nodded. Marietta first walked toward him hesitant and then sprinted the short distance to take her child. Her daughter came to her without distress, but she leaned away from Marietta staring up at her with uncertainty. Marietta removed her pacifier. Lorenza touched Marietta’s lips. And then it dawned on Marietta what the curious look her daughter kept giving her might have meant. Lorenza must have seen Mirabella in her. Maybe during their long separation, she never left her. Maybe Lorenza was comforted by the memory of her. Marietta wept. She kissed her baby girl a hundred times before she could let her go. She turned to see Lorenzo staring at her and the child. He hadn’t made a move.

  “Lo. Here she is. Your daughter. Here she is,” Marietta said. She handed Lorenza to her father.

  The baby yawned in his face as if bored by the reunion. Lorenzo laughed. He could smell her sweet milk breath. He stared into eyes that were so much like Marietta’s. He felt humbled. She was her mother in every way. Her curls peeked out from under her knit cap. Her eyes were almond shape and a deep chocolate brown ringed with dark lashes. He put her forehead to his. He closed his eyes and inhaled her. He was wrong. He thought that Marietta was the greatest love of his life. But a father’s love for his daughter was like a love he had never known before. It was possible to have two loves, equal and just as cherished.

  Marietta put her arms around him. “She’s perfect, Lo. Just perfect. Here she is. Isn’t she’s beautiful?”

  “The most beautiful baby in the world,” Lorenzo smiled.

  “You hear that Lola, this is Papa.” Marietta chuckled.

  “Family reunion is over.” Giovanni spoke. Renaldo stepped forward. He aimed the gun directly at Lorenzo.

  “What?” Marietta said. “It’s not over. What the fuck does that even mean?”

  Lorenzo looked at both men he considered brothers with understanding. He could hear Marietta’s panicked protesting, but he spoke above her. “Gio? I’ve never seen her before. An hour. Can I have an hour with my family to say goodbye?”

  “No! Not an hour! No!” Marietta stepped forward. She stood in front of Renaldo’s gun. “How the fuck dare you! How dare you do this to him? Wasn’t it Lorenzo who was there for you after you were shot? Wasn’t I there for you when you went to America and got in that fucking trouble with Kyra? Where is your fucking loyalty, Renaldo?”

  Renaldo gave a look to Marietta and then returned his gaze to Lorenzo. The gun didn’t lower.

  “It was me Giovanni,” Marietta began. “I pulled the trigger. I did it. I was desperate to protect my husband and I’m desperate to do it today. Lo is innocent. Lo is your brother! Did you hear that, Renaldo? Lorenzo is Tomosino’s son—”

  “Marie... stop!”

  “I will not! We know the truth, Gio. He’s your brother and this is all his! That’s why you are doing this! You’re hunting us, torturing us, destroying your own brother out of jealousy!”

  Giovanni smirked.

  “Marie,” Lorenzo spoke again this time softly. She turned and looked at him with tears on her face. He extended his hand to her. She walked over, and Lorenzo pulled her closer by the hand. He balanced Lorenza on one arm and used the other to embrace her.

  “What are you doing, Lo? What is this? Tell him. Tell him we know the truth! Say something!”

  “Gio and I need to talk. It’s not going to happen any other way, beautiful.”

  Lorenzo made eye contact with Renaldo. The man he called friend kept the gun trained on him and his family. There was no hint of conflict in Renaldo’s eyes. It explained why Carlo wasn’t present or Nico. Out of all of them Renaldo was loyal to the vows above all else.

  “What is going to happen?” Mirabella asked with a shaky voice.

  “You’re going to take our daughter and leave with Renaldo.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You’re going to protect her. Above everything else, you are going to protect her.”

  “Lo, you promised me. Please don’t break. Not now. Look at your daughter. She needs her father. We need you. Fight back.”

  “I am going to fight. But this is the only way I can. Take her and go. Trust me.”

  “I can’t do it. I can’t trust him!” She pointed at Giovanni.

  He looked at his cousin and then his baby girl once more. And something deep inside of him knew it would be for the last time. Lorenzo kissed her brow. He put the pacifier that was pinned to her jumper back in her mouth. She sucked twice and then began to cry. Lorenzo fought back his own tears.

  “Papa loves you. Ricordati di me, amore mio.” He had so many regrets. This moment would be his greatest. He should have always put them first. The moment it fell apart he should have taken Marietta and run as far as he could.

  Lorenzo glanced to Giovanni who looked on as if bored. He saw him remove
his gun and grip it tightly in his black gloved hand.

  “I love you, cara. I love you with all my heart.”

  Marietta hugged him and wept. She wept, and he did his best to comfort her.

  “Take her and go.”

  She turned, and Renaldo lowered his gun. Lorenzo clenched his hands into fists. Marietta shot past the enforcer. “Please, please!” Marietta went to her knees with her daughter in her arms. She grabbed Giovanni’s pants leg. She began to beg. “I’ll do anything. Please! I’m begging you for his life! Please don’t do this, Gio. Please spare him! My God, he loves you. Don’t you see that!”

  Lorenzo couldn’t stand it so he charged after her. Renaldo was quick to react. He struck him with the butt of the gun. Lorenzo was knocked to the floor. Marietta turned in horror and screamed. He tried to regain his consciousness but the blow on top of all the other blows he had taken overcame him. He felt her grab at his arm and then blinked with his one eye. He looked up at her as Renaldo pulled her toward the stairs with his baby girl in her arms wailing.

  “Oh my God! Lo! No! Please no! Gio! Don’t do it!” she yelled.

  Lorenzo sat up. He tried again to stand. If anyone touched her again they’d have to put a bullet in him. But his disoriented state overcame his resolve. He dropped to his knees. Renaldo forced Marietta up and out of the boat by the side stairs. He could hear her screams from above. Lorenzo touched his head and looked at his hand. His fingers had blood on them. There was no saving his wife from his fate. He squeezed his eye shut and again willed himself to stand. The best he could do was make it over to the sofa.

  “Ah, here it is. The Russians sure do love their vodka,” Giovanni said. He’d located a bottle and a glass. Lorenzo knew there was little he could do to stop or overturn his fate. Even if he was able to overpower Gio, and in his physical condition it was doubtful, he’d get a bullet between his eyes the moment he emerged.

  Giovanni turned with a glass of vodka. He walked over and handed it to Lorenzo. He looked at the offering and then at Giovanni unsure of the meaning. It was a strange but welcomed reprieve, which he gladly accepted.

  “This is it?” Lorenzo asked after a deep swallow.

  Giovanni toasted him with the raised bottle of vodka then took a drink. “This is it.”

  Lorenzo shrugged.

  “The brotherhood. The one we created for our friends. The one that was supposed to be bigger and better than Patri’s. It fucking never existed. Did it?” Giovanni asked.

  “I don’t know anymore. I thought Carlo was my brother, I thought Nico and Renaldo were my brothers.” He looked up. “I believed in you Gio. I protected you. But I was robbed of the life you got to live. I could have gone to America, to study law. I could have done more. The entire fucking family robbed me of my real purpose from birth. Why?”

  “You really think Patri is your father?” Giovanni set the bottle down.

  “He is! It’s the only fucking truth that makes sense. And it’s why you should forgive me. I fucked up, but what choice did I have? I deserved more. Bastard or not I was his first born.”

  “Fuck this. I’ll let Rocco tell you the truth. Give him my love on your way down.” Giovanni raised the gun.

  “Gio, wait!” Lorenzo threw up his hands. “Wait!”

  “There’s no way you can talk me out of this.”

  Lorenzo nodded. “I know. Marie will have a hard time. Send her to America. Give her money, all my assets. Sell my home in Bellagio. Take it all. Make sure she and my child have a life far from this. Promise me, Gio.”

  “Why should I make that promise? You were the reason I almost lost Bella twice. You killed Wolfie, and Patri is dead... dead... because of you. You would have come for my wife and children if I had died. Admit it!”

  “I’m his first born! What about me?” Lorenzo shouted. “Who has ever put me first? Who, Gio? No one. What about me?”

  Giovanni lowered the gun.

  Lorenzo wept.

  There was nothing left of him.

  “You have all the power but did you ever stop to think if you deserved it? You can do whatever you want. You can do this however you want. But you’re my brother. My blood. La mia famiglia. If you can’t save me, how else did you expect me to save myself?”

  Giovanni held the gun in his hand and suffered with his cousin. It was a toxic mix of pain, regret, loss, and remorse. The conflict felt like seizures in his brain. His life flashed before his eyes and he remembered it all. The days as boys when they would hide from the adults. How he had to come up with creative ways to cover for Lorenzo from the hateful tyranny of his mother. Or defend him against Flavio who never had a pleasant word of encouragement. He could recall the street fights, both the victories and losses they shared. He remembered the rivalry for everything and how Patri and Rocco observed but never gave them balance to understand their roles in life. They even went as far to marry foreigners, sisters.

  He couldn’t forgive Lorenzo, but could he destroy him?

  Lorenzo made the sign of the cross before him.

  “Dille che le voglio bene, Gio. Tell her the last thing I said: Io muoio per Lei ed il nostro amore.”

  Giovanni raised the gun.

  “You do what you have to do, brother. Because if you don’t they will see you as weak. Carlo, Nico and Renaldo will pretend to understand but they will see you as weak. The families, the clans, our enemies all of them will see you as weak. I made you strong once, Gio, when you lost it all. I’m going to make the family strong again to atone for my sins. We’ll show the world. That nothing and no one is spared for Battaglia. I just want you to say it.”

  Giovanni hand shook. His eyes teared. “Say what?”

  “That you’re my brother. Say it. I want it said between us before I die.”

  Giovanni blinked away his tears. “I’m your brother. You’re my brother. You have always been my brother.”

  Giovanni pulled the trigger.

  MARIETTA HAD MADE IT to the second boat and with the help of strangers. She boarded with her baby girl protectively close. Two steps onto the deck and she heard the first gunshot. She whirled around clutching Lorenza to her heart. Then she heard the next gunshot, and another. Marietta screamed. She screamed with such agony she nearly passed out. Someone grabbed her, but she kept screaming. Someone took her child from her arms and she kept screaming. She fought with all her might.

  It didn’t happen.

  Gio didn’t do it.

  He couldn’t do it.

  Lo was alive.

  She would feel it in her heart if he were dead.

  “He’s not dead,” she screamed. “He’s not dead!”

  Renaldo picked her up. He carried her toward the lower cabins. She looked back and saw men dousing the boat she shared with her husband with petrol. It was all she saw.

  “He’s not dead!” she screamed.

  After being forced below and screaming at Renaldo to save him. She broke down in tears. She wept hard. She wasn’t sure for how long, but Lorenza was crying in her arms. She eventually recovered and set Lorenza on the sofa. Her baby fell over in distress. She couldn’t comfort her child. She had to know if it were real. If he was gone. She got to her feet and ran to the window. From the window she saw the boat. It was aflame. It was burning quick.

  “Nooooooo! He’s not dead! He’s not!”

  And then she felt it. She believed it. Her husband was gone.

  Lorenzo was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Pain That No One Noticed

  Sorrento, Italy

  “BEE! BEE! BUMBLEBEE wake up! Please,” Eve shook Belinda’s shoulder. Her cousin groaned. She turned over and frowned. “We have to get up. I need to be ready.”

  “Ready? For what, Eve? What time is it?”

  “Morning.”

  “Eve! It’s eight in the morning! Go back to bed!” Belinda flipped to her other side.

  “No! You have to get up. I need you to do my hair and make me ready. I want two braids. Oka
y? Two. I pick out schools today. It’s important.”

  Belinda frowned. “Get out of my room now! Now, Eve!”

  Eve bottom lip quivered, and tears welled in her eyes. She walked out of Belinda’s room and closed the door. She wiped her eyes and went back to her parent’s room. Though she had checked there first she hoped that her Mommy and Papa had returned. She went inside to find the room empty.

  “Eve?”

  She turned and saw Zia. It was then the tears spilled. She ran to her beloved aunt in full heartbreak. Zia stooped low to hold her. “What is it?”

  “Where is Mommy?”

  “She’s not here Eve, hush now,” Zia said.

  “I have school today. She said we would go visit three schools and I could pick one.”

  Zia stood straight and took Eve by the hand. Eve did her best not to cry too much. She wasn’t a baby. But she felt so sad she didn’t know how to hold in her pain. Zia led her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Eve was picked up by one of the servants and brought over to her favorite chair. There was a lot of business to the kitchen that morning as others prepared for meals no one would eat. Mama was gone. Papa was gone. Eve sat there observing as her aunt as she fiddled with the sweet pastries for her to eat. Zia’s solution to her tears had always been to feed her.

  “Where is Mommy?” Eve asked the staff.

  No one answered.

  Zia brought over a plate and a glass of milk. She kissed Eve’s cheek and walked away. Eve sat there staring at her food. When her misery became too much she scooted down from her chair and walked out of the kitchen. No one noticed.

  MIRABELLA TIED HER robe and slipped her feet into her house slippers. She walked out of her room to the en-suite. When she fled Sorrento for Napoli she was forced to bring the baby with her. Leeza was too small and dependent on her to be left at home. The men had to watch the infant while she met with Carlo in the prison, but even then she hurried the visit to not be away from her for long. Now with her little one fed and changed she left her sleeping between pillows. She found Arielle at the table with a cup of coffee. Nico paced on the phone by the television. It was only eight in the morning and already both had dressed and prepared for the day.