by Sienna Mynx
The second day, Catalina received a summons. She was told to dress and join Lorenzo and his murderous lot of friends for dinner. She refused. Her cousin came to her and made it clear she had no choice. Catalina dressed and did her makeup. Her things, the things Armando had given her, were all there for her to choose from. She put them on with not a hint of self awareness. The only thing she was certain to keep polished and prettily on display was her wedding ring. When she arrived downstairs for the dinner the men all ogled her with no respect. She sat next to Lorenzo, as he boasted of what he would do with Armando’s empire, and how he’d bring Giovanni to his knees. She ate her dinner and drank her wine. She ignored the leers from the men, especially the Armenian named Alik. He stared at her the most. She knew what that look meant. And she had no illusions that Lorenzo would protect her. He had done nothing but been an instrument of pain for her since she learned his secret.
On the third day, things fell apart. She heard Lorenzo shouting. His voice boomed through every hall and blared out of every window. She put on clothes and got ready for battle. Maybe they would kill Lorenzo and try to kill her next. She had taken a knife from the kitchen and kept it under her pillow. She stood behind her door with it. Ready to strike. And she almost did. Lorenzo stormed inside her room and barely sidestepped her swing.
“Are you fucking insane? You could have killed me.”
“I thought... I thought I heard you shouting.” she said
“I was! You idiot!” Lorenzo paced. “Carlo! He has Marietta.”
“Carlo? Why?”
“You know why!” Lorenzo seethed.
“What are you talking about? How would I know anything?”
“You know Carlo is the butcher. You know he hates women! You know what he will do to her! Stop being so fucking dense!”
“Lorenzo...”
“I want you to call Mirabella. Call her today! I want you to find out where they are taking her.”
“I can’t.”
Lorenzo grabbed her by the arm so hard she dropped the knife. She nearly tripped over her feet as he dragged her from the room. “Stop it, Lo! What are you doing? You’re hurting me!”
“Call her now. Tell her that Armando is dead. Tell her that I’m in charge. Tell her that Giovanni does not want this war. Tell her to solve it!”
“Stop it damn it!” she shoved him off. He let her go, but charged at her again. Catalina took a step back. She was afraid of him now. Not because she thought he hated her. She meant nothing to him. She was afraid because she knew how irrational he and Marietta could both be when they were threatened.
“Tell me what has happened!”
“Giovanni is awake.”
“I know that...”
“He knows Marietta tried to kill him. He had Carlo take her. He called me. He told me that it was a one way trip. Carlo is going to kill my Marie!” Lorenzo shouted.
“He wouldn’t do that! I don’t believe he would hurt her while she is carrying your child.”
“Make the fucking call!” Lorenzo grabbed her by the throat. She fought back. She delivered her knee as hard as she could to his groin. With his staggered limp, and the blow to his nuts, he folded and grabbed his groin and she then used both hands held together tight as a fist to drive a blow to the top of his head. He went to his knees. It was then Catalina drove her knee directly into his face. He fell backward laughing with blood in his mouth. Catalina stumbled back. She panted hard. She learned to fight from Lorenzo. Giovanni and Dominic wanted to baby her. But Lorenzo always told her being a girl was never an excuse for weakness. To use everything she had for defense and to always strike hardest when she brought her opponent down.
Catalina was a good student.
Lorenzo turned over to his side and wiped the blood from his lips. “Thanks piccoletta for knocking some sense into me.”
“Fuck you!”
Their benefactor walked in on the scene. He offered a hand to help Lorenzo off the ground. Lorenzo spat blood.
“What’s the matter flower?” he asked Catalina in Italian. She took another step back. He was tall like Lorenzo. He had a beard that covered the lower half of his mouth and stopped mid-chest. He had dark eyes and deep olive skin. He looked as threatening as any of the men in her life.
“Just a family disagreement. We have it under control,” Lorenzo said.
“You murdered my husband.” Catalina faced him. “You murdered my father, but you have the nerve to call me family. You’re only tough because this man lets you hide behind his legs, while Giovanni gathers his strength to destroy you.” She punched back at Lorenzo.
Alik chuckled. “She has a mouth on her.”
Lorenzo seethed. She hit him in his pride. And it was a decisive blow. For the first time since he shot and killed Armando, he had nothing left to say. Catalina looked to Alik. “I’m a widow and my husband owns all of Palermo. Lorenzo only has power if I give it to him. I’d rather give it to you instead.” She shot Lorenzo a withering glare. “If you kill him and throw his body to the fishes!”
Lorenzo smirked. Alik stared at her as if she was some new creature he’d never discovered. He then nodded his approval. “I like her Lorenzo. You raised her right.” He took a step toward her and she wished she still had her knife. “But you don’t negotiate with me, little one. You will do as your cousin asked, or I will feed you to the fishes.”
Catalina glared back and refused to submit. Two men entered the room. One of them walked right up to her and seized her by the arm. She hit him and scratched his face. She was lifted from the ground by the waist and carried away. Catalina screamed at both men. Alik laughed, and Lorenzo continued to track her with his eyes. She was trapped. And she was in trouble.
Rocco woke. He stared directly ahead and then his gaze slipped over to the left. If the old guy was suffering he showed no sign of it. Giovanni wasn’t sure if realized that he was in the room.
“Gio,” his voice croaked.
“You trying to leave without saying goodbye?” Giovanni asked.
Rocco chuckled and then wheezed a bit. He smiled. “She told you, didn’t she?”
“Straight to the point. Yes, she gave me the journal.”
“It’s true Gio.”
“No it’s not old man. It’s not even close to the truth. You gave Bella this story to keep me from killing Lorenzo. It won’t work.”
“Eve... she shares the story. The woman... her name... it’s in the diary. Look into it.”
Giovanni stared at him.
Rocco nodded. “I know its too hard to believe. I know it makes no sense. But I need you to understand that this war between you two didn’t start with the Calderones and Lorenzo’s lie. It started with me, and what I did to divide this family. What I did because of envy. If he was my son I’d understand Lorenzo... because he’s just as bad at brotherhood as me. But he’s not. And he doesn’t know it Gio. It’s the full truth and you have to understand it before you decide for the family what has to be done.”
“I’ve already decided what has to be done Rocco. Nothing changes that.”
Rocco nodded. He lifted his hand. Giovanni stared at it for a moment and then walked over to him and took it. Rocco squeezed his hand. “We are all brothers, uncles, sons, we are blood. That’s not going to change.”
***
“Zia?” Mirabella said.
Zia sat with her in the limo. She stared out of her window. Eve sat between them. She was busy with Mirabella’s bracelets.
“Did you know Rocco had gotten this bad? I thought you said he was recovering? Getting stronger for the surgery.”
Before Zia uttered a word her silence broke with sobs. Zia used her shawl to cover her eyes. She wept hard. Eve got up on her knees and hugged Zia. Mirabella also tried to soothe her. Zia spoke so fast in Italian, Mirabella struggled with understanding her.
“It’s okay, Zia, it’s gonna be better,” Eve said. She kissed Zia’s face. Zia hugged Eve and Mirabella’s heart broke. She knew all too well Zia’s pain. Afte
r a few minutes Zia settled down. Eve sat in her lap with her feet stretched out on the seat. She rested her head against Zia’s breast as if exhausted.
“He’s been sick for a long time. The problem is years of drinking and smoking. Even when I banned it from his life he found ways to do so. When the doctors told him about the diabetes he stopped going for his visits. He didn’t want to extend his life. He only wanted to finish it. I didn’t want his sins to follow him into death.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I heard you and him talking in the room. I wasn’t sleep.”
“Zia?”
“I know that is selfish of me, but I couldn’t let that be the end of him. Rocco has done many bad things but...”
“Zia. We can’t keep this a secret. Rocco doesn’t want it to be a secret. Help him atone. That young girl lost her life. Lorenzo lost his mother. This family is all about lies. When does it end?”
“It ends with Rocco, Mirabella. As his wife that is my call. It ends with him. Don’t tell Gio any of it. Let Rocco die in peace.”
“It is not peace. It’s just one lie and secret after another. You lived through it all, and now those lies have torn the family apart. What if Giovanni and Lorenzo were raised as brothers? What then?”
“It would have been worse. Lorenzo would have been the eldest and taken control of the family...”
“How is that worse. From day one Giovanni wanted something different. It could have been much better if he never...” Mirabella stopped herself. There was no point in inserting the fantasy. She was done with the fantasy. “The lies are over. I’m not going to let secrets slide through our lives any longer.” There was no discussing it. Not with Zia. Mirabella hoped that Giovanni had better luck with Rocco. She was hopeful his anger had released, and he’d gone to the hospital to see Rocco, to get the answers she no longer could give. Part of her still resented Zia for burning the journal.
The family arrived at the hospital. The moment the staff told her the children could go up to Rocco’s room, her heart sank. They would have never agreed to it if Rocco’s health hadn’t taken a turn for the worse. The first person she saw when she and the kids left the elevator was Giovanni. He paced outside of Rocco’s room with Dominic standing before him.
“Papa!” Gino yelled. He ran for Giovanni with Gianni running close behind. Eve held Zia’s hand, and kept to her side. Giovanni, with red rheumy eyes, knelt and accepted hugs from his children. Mirabella prayed for the best, but she was now ready to accept the worst. Giovanni stood holding his boys.
“Rocco? Gio? How is he?”
“Not good. His heart stopped.”
Zia wept again. Eve hugged her legs, but it was Dominic who comforted her. Mirabella hugged Giovanni and her sons.
“I think the family should be at his side. He’s awake. But he’s weak. Not speaking. I... I needed you all here,” Giovanni said.
“I know, sweetheart. We’re here.” She took Gianni from him. And then took his hand. Giovanni squeezed her hand. She was tired of fighting with him. She just wanted some normalcy again. But in her heart, she knew if Rocco died nothing would be normal again. They went inside his room, all of the remaining family. Rocco looked over at them. He seemed a bit better than Giovanni had reported.
Zia went to him first. She hugged and kissed him. Rocco whispered a few words to his wife. Mirabella approached the bed with Gianni.
“I’m sorry, Rocco. I feel like this is my fault.”
He shook his head no, and smiled. She glanced to Giovanni who didn’t approach the bed. He stood the furthest away, with their son in his arms. Dominic came over and said a few words of love and support for Rocco, and the kids all got to give Rocco a kiss. Mirabella walked over to Giovanni.
“You need to talk to him. You don’t want to have any regrets.”
“I have no regrets, Bella. We had our talk.”
“Good...” She rubbed his jaw.
Father Cristóbal arrived. He was the priest over Zia’s church in Chianti. With him came his leather case, and Mirabella watched as he greeted Zia, and the family then proceeded to set up to give the family communion as a viaticum. It will be a last rites offered to the sick and dying. Again, she was reminded that Zia and Rocco had prepared for this. She walked over to Rocco before the viaticum began. She hugged him. Rocco was lucid enough to squeeze her arm. She paused.
“He’ll believe. Give him time,” Rocco whispered.
“I’m sorry, Rocco. I should have listened to you.”
He squeezed her arm. “Bless you, Mirabella, the family will need you Donna Nera.”
“I love you, Rocco,” she said and kissed his jaw. No matter what kind of monster he once was, she did love him. She stepped back and joined the family as they all accepted communion. And when the priest prayed, she took hold of Giovanni’s hand.
Catalina heard the door to the room open. She sat up on the bed. It was of no surprise to her when Lorenzo appeared. She expected him. He closed the door and stared at her. She could feel his anger. It was a like a force of heat that flamed the air in the room, making it hard to breathe. Or maybe it was the fast beating pace of her heart.
“Get out,” she said. “Or I’ll kick your ass again.”
He stood there staring at her. He didn’t move, he showed no reaction to her pain. He just stared at her.
“You’re not going to get away with any of this. I don’t know who you are anymore.” She closed her eyes and cried. She was so desperate in that moment she would have done anything to escape.
“Who was there for you when your mother died? Who packed a bag, took you to France and let you shop until you passed out?”
“Shut up!” She put her hands to her ears.
“And when Gio wanted to kill Dominic for touching you? For sleeping with you, who protected you?”
“Mirabella! Not you!”
“I was the one to convince Giovanni to forgive.”
“Get out!”
“When you cut yourself, and was out of your mind because Armando Mancini made you his whore, I stitched you up!”
“You have no idea what he and I had.”
“You had nothing!” Lorenzo shouted. “Nothing!”
“He married me, it’s what Patri wanted. I was to be his,” she said. “He chose me and I chose him. And you had no right to kill him.”
Lorenzo stepped forward. “I am done treating you like some princess. The life of my unborn child is at stake. Marietta’s life is at stake! Hate me all you want, but stop fighting me. The only way out of here, Catalina, is through me. And I’m not letting you go until I have Marietta and my child with me. Do you understand?”
It was crystal clear to her. She was not just his prisoner, she was his last weapon to use against the family. He was right. At some of her darkest moments, he knew how to make her feel better, help her. But he also has brought her more pain that she ever imagined into her life.
“We need a truce. I say we renew it. We survive with each other. Don’t you ever turn to Alik or anyone against me. You know better. We’re family. Like it or not.”
She cried.
“You have to call Mirabella. Now. Do you hear me? Make the call, Catalina, if not for me then do it for Marietta. And if not for her, do it for my child, because if Giovanni harms my woman and my baby I will gut him and do the exact same thing to his family. You make the call before it’s too late.”
Death was never easy. Especially when one was forced to wait for it to come. Mirabella sent the kids home with Dominic. It was only Zia, Giovanni, and her left. They took turns having vigil at his side. Rocco was lucid mostly. He seemed to be in and out of a wakeful state. Giovanni talked about old times in Sicily, how Rocco was the first one to give him candy. When it was Zia’s turn to sit at his side, she read from her bible and mostly fidgeted with the sheet. Seven hours and eighteen minutes after the Battaglias arrived to give Rocco their support he passed away peacefully.
In the end it was just Giovanni an
d Zia holding his hand. Her husband didn’t show emotion in the way most would. There were no tears, or proclamations of regret. He accepted it with a burdened sigh. And then she too accepted the passing. Since the nightmare began they had lost loved ones, and almost each other. When he looked her way, she gave him the best smile her heart could tolerate. And then she broke. Crying in his arms. Zia did as well. Giovanni held them both.
The Battaglias arrived home to share the news with everyone. Zia, weak with grief, was tended to by Mirabella. She saw her to her room, and she, Minnie, and Cecilia did everything to make her misery bearable. Ana fixed her a chamomile tea to help her sleep. It was then that a staff member passed Mirabella a letter. A message.
She didn’t bother to read it until Zia was tucked beneath the covers and drifting on a tide of grief to an exhaustive sleep. She left the room and read the message. It was from Catalina, and she pleaded with her to call her. A number similar to the one Minnie had scribbled from Lorenzo.
Immediately Mirabella found her husband and gave him the news of the contact. Giovanni told her to make the call, and update him afterward. He trusted her. There was no debating or negotiating. She knew exactly what was expected as his wife and she intended to tow the line.
“Mirabella? Is that you?”
“It’s me, Catalina, are you okay?”
“No. Oh God, I’m so glad you called me back. Thank you for calling.”
Mirabella listened to Catalina’s soft cries, and felt another deep stab of grief. Today was a hard day. Because of her own bitterness, she prevented Catalina from having a final goodbye with Rocco. How could she ever tell her that he was dead?
“Armando is dead!” Catalina wailed.
The news was so sudden, and delivered so abruptly, she doubted her own ears. She could only stammer a one-word reply. “What did you say?”
“Armando. He’s dead. Lorenzo killed him. He shot him right in front of me. He threw his body in the ocean. Left him in the ocean. He’s dead and I can’t even bury him. Dead!”
Mirabella had been standing when she made the call. She had to immediately find a seat. Armando’s death numbed her. He was her brother. And in the past she wanted that relationship, she even used it to help Marietta. She always believed that one day that relationship would grow. Now he was gone and she felt robbed, just as she did with her own mother’s death. Robbed of closure that she knew they needed.
