Bella Mafia Page 7

  “Donna?” Leo said with worry. He looked around the room with his gun drawn. Two men arrived with him. They immediately began to search the bathroom and closets, the kids’ rooms. Mirabella was shivering on the bed. She struggled to hold on to all of her children. Trapped in a state of fear and grief. In the smallest rational corner of her mind, she knew that her despair was edging closer to madness. But it felt so real.

  “Donna? Are you okay?” Leo asked.

  Mirabella couldn't get a grip on her thoughts or her fear. Giovanni was drowning? Giovanni was shot. Giovanni was dead? She couldn't make sense of it.

  “Donna?” Leo touched her shoulder.

  “No! Don't touch my mommy! Recedere! Recedere!” Eve stood on the bed and smacked Leo in the head when he didn't move away fast enough. “Lasciaci soli! It's disrespectful!”

  Leo drew back in shock. Eve stood her ground with her natural blondish brown spiral curls reaching past her shoulders, and tears on her cheeks. She faced off with Leo with both of her hands curled into fists.

  “Recedere!” she demanded and stomped her small foot. The other men returned from their sweep of the rooms and shook their heads that no one was there. Leo stared at the four-year-old, not sure of what to say. It was the boss’s wife and daughter. And it was clear he could do no more for either of them.

  “It's okay, Evie. We'll leave now.” Leo gestured for the men to follow.

  Eve wiped her tears, but kept protective watch over her mother until the men left and the bedroom door was closed. Mirabella barely witnessed the exchange. She squeezed her boys to her and shivered. Locked in the memory, trapped in her mind, she wasn't aware of her surroundings anymore. She clung to her babies for safety as well as sanity.

  “It's okay, Mommy, I'm here. We okay, I sent the men away.” Eve said and stroked her mother’s hair. The boys began to cry less. Eve scrambled down from the bed. She did her best to lift the covers that Mirabella had kicked off. “We go to sleep now. Gino! Aiutami! Help me!” Eve said.

  Gino, only two years-old, understood his sister. He let go of his mother while Gianni clung to her. Mirabella continued to rock back forth, mumbling that she would protect them. Gino dropped to his little feet and began to pick up the pillows to throw them back on the bed. But when lightening struck, the little toddler froze. His eyes stretched with fear and his face broke under tears.

  “No. No. No. We go to sleep, Gino. There's nothing to be scared of. Remember Papa said, lightening is from God. It is how God says hello. God has a big mouth. He should go to sleep too. Now, get on the bed. Go on,” Eve said and kissed his cheek. “Va bene.”

  Gino climbed on the bed. Eve managed to put the covers in place. She climbed on the bed and went to her mother. Mirabella saw her little girl. Eve touched her face and spoke to her. Mirabella could hear nothing. When Eve spoke all Mira saw was the movement of her little girl’s lips. Nothing could be heard above the dull numbing sound in her head.

  “Lie down, Mama,” Eve said. “Go on, sdraiarsi. You hold on to Gianni. That's right. Lie down.”

  Eve pushed on her mother and Mirabella laid back down on the pillows. Eve put the covers on her mother. Gianni had managed to fall asleep against his mother's breast, despite her tight hold on him. Gino lay still on their mother’s left. Mirabella opened her arm so Gino could snuggle her. Lightening flashed and Eve looked to the window with fear. But she remained strong. She found space on her mother's right side. Enough space to feel comforted and safe like her brothers. “We go to sleep. Va bene, sleep. Papa will come home tomorrow and take care of us. He will come. I know it.”

  Gino nodded that he agreed. He sucked on his two middle fingers and closed his eyes.

  It took an eternity in Mirabella's mind, but slowly the frozen grip of shock that seized her lessened. The storm didn't. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She turned her head and looked over to her brave daughter. Eve lay on her pillow staring at her with her father's eyes.

  “Grazie, bambina,” Mirabella managed to say.

  Eve smiled. “Ti amo, Mommy.”

  Mirabella nodded. At that moment she swore silently to herself and God, that she would never let go of her mind again. She would fight for her family. And she was going to save them. She was going to bring her beloved home. Life without Giovanni wasn't possible.

  Chapter Five

  Repercussions

  Palermo, Sicilia

  “Come ti senti—how are you feeling?” Armando asked.

  Marietta rinsed out the mug. She turned off the tap water and dried her hands. She sensed he had stepped closer. She felt it rather than saw him. Talking to him was the very last thing she wanted to do.

  “Sto così così,” she said she was doing okay.

  “It’s time we had a talk sorellina—little sister.”

  The last three days had been hell. Lorenzo had developed an infection. He suffered from fevers and delirium. She believed the problem was the nasty doctor who removed the bullet from his leg with unsterilized equipment. The man lived in squalor. It pissed her off that Armando had delivered them to an untrained butcher for help. And then just a few hours later, before Lorenzo was ready or safe to travel, Armando forced them back on the boat to sail away for twelve hours to Palermo. She had barely slept since the entire nightmare began.

  When she turned he was still there. “What is there left to talk about?”

  “Plenty. Have a seat,” Armando said. He pulled out a chair from the table for her to sit in. He sat in the opposite one. With no choice, she walked over and did as he requested.

  “I’ve gotten word from the Campania. Giovanni isn’t dead. Not yet. But there is still hope.”

  “I don’t want him dead!” Marietta shouted. When her voice came across shrill and pathetic, she covered her mouth. She couldn't let Armando see her rattled. She was the only defense Lorenzo had left.

  “You sure about that, sorellina?”

  Marietta lowered her gaze. They’d been completely cut off from the family and the world. She hadn’t listened to the radio. “How bad is he?”

  “My contacts don’t know. Our sister has Salerno on lock down. But she’s weak. Especially now. And his enemies know it. I should hear soon that one of his many enemies have finally put him out of his misery.”

  “Armando, stop.”

  “Not even the great Giovanni can beat a bullet to the back. My guess is if he does live, he’ll be in a wheelchair pissing and shitting in a bag for the rest of his life.”

  “I begged you to get him help. Get him and Carlo help.”

  “I did him a favor.” Armando pointed his finger like a gun and put it to his head. “I could have ended it right there. Solved all your problems. Eh, sorellina?”

  “Why didn't you?” she asked. “You aren’t generous, kind, even compassionate.”

  “No? I think I’ve been all those things to you and my sister. Have I not?”

  “But not to our husbands, never Giovanni. Why did you let him live?”

  “Giovanni owes me his life. I kind of like the sound of that.”

  “That’s not the reason,” she said.

  “Then you tell me sister, why did I leave him breathing?”

  “You didn't kill him because you know our sister would never forgive you or me. Stop pretending you don't care what she thinks. You do. We both do.”

  “Sentiment is an emotion for women. Let's just say it was in our best interest to let him live. Consider it the last favor I will give to Mirabella.”

  “I can’t do this with you now,” Marietta said. The moment she closed her eyes she felt exhaustion pull her closer to a complete wipe out. She needed to go and check on Lorenzo, to make sure he was resting comfortably before she caved.

  “Don’t you want to know why I came for you. Why I helped you?” Armando asked.

  “No.”

  “I helped you because you are my blood. And no matter what, family is family. That is the Sicilian way,” Armando said. “Which is why you ca
lled me. You knew my vow to our father is as sacred as any bond we share. Isn’t that right?”

  “What do you want from me, Armando? Lorenzo is suffering. Giovanni may die. And Mirabella will hate me the moment she realizes...”

  “Realizes what?”

  Marietta shook her head and swallowed her words. She wiped away her tears.

  “Hate you? Why? Because you chose your husband over her? Or because you shot Giovanni?”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “There were only two people in that warehouse. You and Lorenzo. Giovanni was shot in the back. I saw him. I also saw how Lorenzo fought to protect him. To help him. Not Lorenzo’s style to shoot Giovanni. He worships him. But you, little sister. You’re different. Aren’t you? The only man in that warehouse you came to protect was your husband.”

  “I didn’t shoot him,” Marietta blubbered.

  “We followed you. We were waiting. Carlo brought you to the warehouse. You hit him over the head and went inside with his gun. I saw this with my own eyes.”

  Marietta didn’t speak. She couldn’t speak.

  Armando smiled. “You shot Giovanni.”

  “No. I did not. I swear it!”

  “If the Camorristi finds out, hell if his men find out, there is nothing I nor your husband can do to protect you.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I didn’t do it...”

  “Shhh... Don’t cry, sorellina.” He covered her hand and put it between his. “No need to explain. You did what you had to do, in a very bad situation to a very bad man.”

  “Don’t mock me.”

  “I’m not. Giovanni may be my enemy, but I respect him. He is the baddest of the bad. A real monster. And I respect monsters. I also know what monsters can make others do. It’s not your fault. Not really. What choice did you have?”

  “That’s because you’ve been jealous of Giovanni for years.”

  “That is debatable. Trust me, sister, he would have killed your husband in front of you without mercy. I showed mercy. Didn't I? I saved you and Lorenzo. Didn't I? I spared Giovanni, after everything he's done. Didn't I? I’m the good guy in all of this.”

  “What do you want from me?” she asked. “Love? Gratitude? What?”

  “Soon Mirabella will learn that you are here. Everyone, will think I did this. La Camorra doesn’t live by a code of honor. We do here. Giovanni has turned to La Cosa Nostra. He has made the Dons of Sicilia question my ability to have a seat among them. He’s cut me off from my money, my power. They are meeting now to organize support for him. While others meet to go in and put a bullet in his head. Everyone is plotting, and Giovanni lies in a coma. Can you believe that? The fucking half-breed has power even now?” Armando sneered. “The Dons think they are justified in giving him my legacy because Mirabella is our father’s daughter. That legitimizes Giovanni? Well father had you too. The Mancini legacy doesn’t belong to her alone.”

  “I don’t understand what you are saying?”

  “I’m saying that to the Camorristi Giovanni’s war is about turf. But for Giovanni it was about much more. It was about the ultimate power. Ruling over the Mafia and the Camorra both. I can stop him. Reverse it. I can own the Battaglias, and we can protect our father’s legacy, if you help me with our dear grieving sister.”

  Marietta wiped her tear. “I don’t hate Giovanni. I never did. I just...”

  “It doesn’t matter. If he dies his kingdom falls. If he lives, his kingdom falls, because you and I will see to it. I prefer he live, as a crippled, broken man. I prefer he live to watch me take his wife, his children and bring them home where they belong. Death is too easy. It's part of the job description for men like us. I want Giovanni to live a life of hell before we send him there."

  Marietta wept. She snatched her hand from him.

  “I saved your life in Italy. Now you have to do the same. We have one opportunity to stop the Battaglias. This is it.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “Your husband knows all the secrets of Giovanni’s organization. He knows all of Dominic's weaknesses. When Lorenzo recovers you will convince him to work for me. This is the price you and he will pay for my protection.”

  “He won’t do it. He would never betray Giovanni,” Marietta said and wiped her tears.

  Armando laughed. He laughed so eerily in Marietta’s face her stomach soured. She clenched her hands into fists on the table to keep her anger at bay.

  “He’s done it before.” Armando stood.

  “I’m telling you he loves Giovanni!”

  Armando glanced back to his sister. “But he loves himself more. Do you want your baby to visit him in prison?”

  “What?”

  “Isabella gave those tapes to the Carabinieri. By now the world knows. Either the clans will kill him or the police.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know that the Carabinieri here in Sicily have been notified to look out for Lorenzo to bring him in for questioning. I’m blocking that now. For now.”

  “Oh my God...”

  “Now. Go see to your husband. I’ve called in our doctors. Let’s make him comfortable.” Armando leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. Shooting Giovanni was a good thing. Sei il mio eroe - you're my hero.” He whispered in her ear and then left.

  Marietta wiped his kiss off. She slammed her fists down on the table, dropped her head and wept.

  The moment Armando was gone Marietta broke down in tears again. In a fit of rage, she swept the cups and salt shakers off the table. Everything she believed before the shooting was wrong. She needed her sister. She always thought having Lorenzo was enough. But the guilt and regret slammed into her heart every time she remembered pulling the trigger. Mirabella will hate her forever. If she ever found out she would never, ever forgive her.

  “I’ve got to get us out of here!” she wept and turned to leave. A sharp pain stabbed her side. She gasped. She put her hand to her baby. “You’re okay, sweetie. I’m okay.”

  The doctors had warned her against stress. They told her whenever she felt such discomfort to use her breathing exercises to relax. She practiced for several long moments.

  “I’m okay. I'm calm now.”

  Marietta looked through her tears at the destruction she caused. It was safe to say her blood pressure had gone beyond the boundaries of reason this time. She sucked in a deep breath and pushed herself up from the chair. “Mama was just upset. But she’s okay. We aren’t going to do what he says. We’re going to get Daddy well, and get the hell out of here. Mama, will figure it out. I promise.”

  With her hand to her belly she left the kitchen and went to the room they had given her husband. There wasn’t a lot of staff in this place. Or maybe everyone was sent away. In Melanzana there were children playing, music, lots of laughter. Not here. The hall to Lorenzo’s room was empty and as silent as a tomb. Marietta wiped her tears, and walked briskly in fear of the solitude. The pain in her side had shifted to her spine. She held her tummy and felt her baby kick. That encouraged her to be strong.

  When she reached Lorenzo’s door she found it partially opened. Concerned she pushed it wider with a racing heart. Lorenzo was alone. Marietta went inside. She closed and locked the door. She found a chair and put it up under the door knob. Armando had taken their guns. She had no other way to protect him.

  “Marie?” Lorenzo groaned in a hoarse voice. When had he managed to drag his body to sit upright, the exertion exhausted him. His rheumy eyes were puffy, with dark purplish bruising underneath. His face was pale—ghostly white. His lips were chapped. Physically he looked like a man left out in below zero weather. She hurried to his side, and checked his temperature with the back of her hand pressed to his forehead.

  “The fever is gone,” she said with a forced smile.

  Lorenzo frowned. “Where... are...we?”

  “Don’t ask questions. Just gather your strength. Here, drink this,” she gave him the water. He drank and looked at her with con
fusion in his eyes. She kissed his brow. “Not too much. That’s enough. Okay, sweetheart.”

  He nodded his gratitude. He’d been in and out of consciousness for days so she couldn't believe his response. When he was at the worst with fever and sickness, he called her name constantly. Even as he held her, he said her name. Marietta kissed his lips once more. “You will be alright. The worst is over.”

  “Tell me. Tell. Where? Where did you go?” he asked.

  “Me? I’m not going anywhere,” she chuckled and got up from the bed.

  Lorenzo grabbed her by the wrist. “Where?”

  “We are in Sicilia. Palermo.”

  Lorenzo double blinked in confusion. “Palermo?”

  “Armando’s. He brought us here.”

  Lorenzo’s eyes swept the room. They returned to her. She could see his memory searching his brain for a plausible explanation. “Gio? Gio?”

  “He’s alive. That’s all we know.”

  Lorenzo nodded. “Baby?”

  She smiled. She took his hand and pressed it to her stomach. “Feel, your bambina.”

  The baby didn’t move, but she saw color return to Lorenzo’s cheeks when he touched the swell of her belly. Marietta couldn’t believe how selfish she once was. This baby was the most important person in the world to them now. Their child made their love even stronger.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Tired.”

  He moved over a bit. He grunted with evident pain. She eased onto the bed with him. She was careful to help him find comfort. And all he wanted to do was give her some of the same. She rested against his broad chest. His arm went around her. One of the things she loved about Lorenzo was his physical strength. After living a life feeling so lost, unprotected, having a partner that could offer her security and comfort from just an embrace was special. Marietta closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his beating heart. “I’m sorry. For bringing us here. For shooting Giovanni. I’ve made a mess of things.”