by S. W. Frank
“Donna, we can have this talk when I return.”
Nicole folded her arms and shook her head sadly. “Go, bye, find your brother, whatever. Since you don’t care don’t expect me to care when you return –either!” she shouted and marched upstairs.
They were done…his love had not evaporated...ne…he loved her very much, but asking him to choose caused the present result. Maybe, he was angry with himself for caring more about his fratellino and Nico than her deceased sorella or an emotional Donna.
He could never turn his back on his fratellino or a distress call from his nipote Salvatore, just like he could not hope to reclaim that piece of him that Shanda took.
Maybe what he experienced with Nicole was the realization he might never fill that void and staying might take away more. He could never forsake his family, if she did not understand that much, then she would never understand a Don’s responsibility.
He climbed in the awaiting car and refused to look at the windows. He might find her there, watching his departure and that could stop his heart.
“Ugh,” he grumbled. “Marriage is difficult!”
“Is mama coming soon?” Carlo asked.
“Ne, Carlo, she must cry for the loss of her sorella.”
“But we are famiglia, too.”
Giuseppe frowned. “Si, we are.”
Except, he did not add, Nicole must understand that there will be death but she must not forsake the living to stay sheltered in a tomb.
Chapter 26
“Mom, where are you going?” Sal asked, when his mom rolled down the rear window.
He leaned his arms inside, discreetly dropping the small device inside.
“Sal, I’ll be back, go inside and look after your younger siblings and Ari.”
“What if dad comes home and you’re not here? What should I tell him?” Sal asked calmly.
“Tell him I love him and had to go to an important meeting. He’ll understand.”
The teen searched his mom’s face. He wasn’t buying her brave front. His mom was up to something. “You know we love you mom and we need you, right?”
Selange slid closer to the door. She wasn’t intentionally embarking on a suicide mission, she loved her children and that’s the reason she had to go. They were part of this contract and she wanted it null and void. Who but a desperate person barters their future generations? No, she wanted no part of what Semira promised.
She caressed her son’s cheek. Her fingers slid over peach fuzz. “I love you more than you know. Go inside Sal, and be the man of the house until dad returns.”
The window rolled up, forcing him out and he stepped back when the vehicle rolled around the circular path. He watched as the SUV then exited the gate. The black vehicle increased speed, and the breaks in the trees as it raced along the grounds were shiny flashes of black and chrome.
Sal walked into the house. He whistled for Gee who’d been barking and scaring the kids.
“I’m taking him out for a walk Aunt Ari.”
“You think?” Ari asked, staring at him with that mother face when they think young people can’t exercise common sense. He grabbed his heavy sweater and outside reached for his cell to call Aaron. When his cousin answered he said, “I put the tracker like you said. Have you got to the place where you think they’re held yet?”
“We’re not that far. We’re almost there.”
“All right. Stay safe Aaron, tell Darren I’m sorry about Anna, okay?”
“He heard you. You’re on speaker.”
“Grazie Sal,” Darren said.
“Hey Sal, no stay safe Serge?”
“That includes you Serge.”
Sal smiled. Sergio was good for the family.
Then Aaron or at least he thought it was said, “Cugino, how’s my mom and sorella?”
The smile broadened. “She is going loco with all the children. Your mom sucks as a babysitter. Thank goodness Anita’s there or she’d probably hit the bottle.”
Sal heard a deep laugh that wasn’t his cousin, probably, the bodyguards, he mused.
“All right we gotta go Sal, take care!”
Sal walked to the edge of the estate, noticing the men walking the perimeters with their guns. His feet quickened when he noticed a trio of vehicles approaching. He immediately recognized his Zio’s Mercedes in the middle of the caravan. The cars slowed for inspection and once the occupants were identified allowed onto the grounds.
Sal ran alongside Gee to the large man exiting the vehicle with his son in tow. “Zio…Zio!”
Giuseppe spun and spotted his nephew and his beloved Gee. They were blessed sights.
He greeted his nipote with a punch and stooped to pat Gee.
Sal put a fist to Carlo’s pale cheek and made him blush. “Hey half-pint. Good to see you.”
“Buongiorno Salvatore, where’s Vin and Angie?” Carlo asked.
“They’re inside.”
The boy ran to the house and Sal smirked. Aunt Ari was going to freak. Another kid in the mix must be frightening to a lawyer with a broken arm.
“We have to go Zio. Mom just left. I’m tracking but the car is moving fast, and we have to make up the time.”
Giuseppe opened the car door, and Gee jumped in. “Fretta Salvatore, get in. Dai!”
Sal climbed in, hit the screen on his cell and told the driver the route. Then he turned to his Uncle Giuseppe. “I think you better let Aunt Ari know I’m with you.”
“Ne, I am tired of answering to women.”
“Okay, it’s your funeral.”
Giuseppe grinned mischievously. Among family when tragedy strikes light moments are found.
“Ah Salvatore,” he said gripping the boy’s neck and shaking it. “Bury me alone nipote. No Donnas on either side of me –not even my mama. They are worrisome and in death I demand, ne I am entitled to peace!”
Sal chuckled. “I’m not sure you’ll be able to escape even then Zio, they’ll be above ground talking down to your grave, crying and whatnot.”
Gee sat regally, staring out the window as they went on a road trip.
Gee wagged his tale.
Sal noticed, on the entire trip Gee had been well behaved.
Chapter 27
The door opened again.
Nico was ordered to climb in. Wearing a straitjacket made the task difficult. His torso bumped the door, as he leaped and then used his leg muscles to pull himself upright.
The door closed and the handle went down, locking Nico inside.
He walked over, using his shoulder to catch the glue from the duct tape and made an airway to talk to Alfonzo hooked to a pole like an object that might break loose during transport.
Ironic, Nico mused, Vin was the torturing kind. He’d implemented the method on occasion, however being on the other side of the pain sucked. Nico preferred to execute his victims without the prolonged agony, unless ordered by the Boss or to gain information from an uncooperative victim.
“You okay kid?”
“No, Nico. I’m not.” Alfonzo said, serious as hell. “These motherfuckers killed Anna and beat the shit out of Lucia, now put your ba
ck to that hole and ask Lucia to untie you, hurry!”
“Nice going kid.” Nico stated as he hurried to the opening and called softly for Lucia. When she approached, Nico’s face turned stone at the discoloration to her face and the blood on her hands. “Untie me bella when I turn around, capisce?”
The injuries to her fingers made it difficult to undo the straps. Her movements were labored and Nico’s anger brought a growl. He’d kill the stronzo, is what he repeated and when the material loosened, he slid out.
His first action was to cup Lucia’s cheeks. “Grazie. Grazie Lucia.” Nico then sized up the hole. It was too small for him to climb through, but Lucia might fit. “Squeeze through. I will help you,” Nico instructed.
She put her hands in the opening and he noticed several fingernails missing. He took hold of her hands and pulled as she wiggled until her ass got stuck and he had to do the work with pure muscle to yank her the rest of the way out.
Lucia slid to the floor, exhausted and hungry. She took a breath, glad to see Nico and Alfonzo. There was true hope now that she might make it home.
Nico checked Alfonzo’s legs. The contraption on Alfonzo’s feet required a specialty tool to cut. The handcuffs were so damn tight Nico saw the hands had begun to turn blue.
“Yeah, same thing I said,” Alfonzo remarked. “Look, get her out of here Nico.”
“No, we will not leave you Alfonzo,” Lucia replied, finding power in her voice and spirit that had almost died. “We go together, capisce?”
“Not this time chica.” He nodded to Nico. “They’re going to come back, when the door opens is the time.”
Nico frowned. “I’ll be back with something to cut through that kid. You’re not going out chained.”
There were sounds at the door. Alfonzo’s eyes were steel as the men exchanged stares. This was the moment. That hour when nothing is said, only action can speak.
Nico hurried to the door, gripping Lucia’s arm. He put the woman behind him and when the door swung open he grabbed the first man inside, snatching his weapon and shooting him back outside.
He jumped down covering Lucia as men scurried for cover. He ran with her and then noticed the bulldozer start moving the containers. “Go Lucia!” He shouted when they reached a side of rocks and he shoved her rump up and over a boulder for her to scramble away.
Nico fired at the operator of the machinery but missed and the container with Alfonzo was bulldozed over rocks, he heard the bangs as the metal crashed into the sea.
Chapter 28
The Bread and Breakfast was closed to the public.
Selange was escorted to the conference room. The guards were with her every step of the way. She walked with confidence, head high and the firmness of a person without fear to the room of men –and a woman.
They were an assorted group, representative of the continents and their attention on the new arrival.
She did not sit; instead she walked to the empty pair of seats, gazed upon the five and greeted them in five languages. In English, she said, “My husband sends his apologies. He has been detained. As his wife, I am him, therefore let us proceed.”
The watchful eyes as she sat were unreadable. The document she placed upon the table was the contract with the signatures belonging to the ancestor’s of those present.
“Don Alfonzo’s appearance is mandatory. Is he prepared for the consequences?” Someone asked.
“The consequences?” Selange folded her hands. Alfonzo’s timepiece was hidden beneath her silk sleeve. “We are civil people in modern times, men and women, fathers, sons and daughters. The only consequence of violence is weeping relatives who we leave grieving because we lack honor to strike an accord.” She eyed their faces, hoping to gauge their thoughts. Praying that her bold talk inspired them to listen. “This contract signed before the birth of my husband holds us all accountable for the action of our children and their children. My husband recently learned of this agreement. Were he privy to the stipulations, he’d immediately have sought to renegotiate the antiquated terms.”
“There isn’t a renegotiation Mrs. Diaz,” the woman in a plain suit and accent replied.
“There is always room for negotiation with reasonable people when the parties stand to benefit, do any of you agree to listen to what my husband is willing to offer as an apology and his release from the contract?”
The man to her right with slanted eyes, nodded. He was interested.
Selange passed each person a document and watched as they bowed their heads to read.
Their silence and then questioning glances in her direction signified there might possibly be a chance she could pull off the deal and exit in good health.
“What is the nature of your husband’s delay?” Mrs. Diaz, a stern Russian enquired.
“His delay is due to circumstances that left no option but to send me to relay his deepest apologies.” Selange stalled.
“I am interested in the reason.” The Russian insisted.
“Politics that required a forceful hand to staunch an uprising so that each of you can rest easy once you have agreed to the revision.”
The Russian snorted. “Humph.”
Selange could feel the moisture sliding down the nape of her neck as heated discussions began on whether to proceed without Alfonzo or hold him in contempt.
***
Bruno arrived to find his wife feeding Alexandros.
Maria greeted him curtly. “Evening Bruno. I was uncertain what time you were returning home. You failed to call today.”
Bruno removed his outer coat. “I am here.”
“There is food if you are hungry, the cook said her good-night.”
“I prefer your meals bella,” he answered honestly.
Maria did not smile at the compliment. Bruno’s charm had no affect.
“Gracias, but I had pain today and was not in the mood.”
There was a genuine apology for the necessity of ridding himself of nuisances that interfered with commerce and caused disharmony with his amore. “Mi dispiace Maria. Por favore forgive me for behaving like a madman.”
She gave Alexandros his bottle, and then took the feeding bowl to the kitchen. She took a deep breath and returned with a plate of food. “I know you have been under stress. I understand.” She went for wine and glasses. Placed the items on the table and sat, pouring wine into her glass. She drank and shook her head. “My son is missing. Sophie believes it is someone he has angered. I am worried out of my mind.”
Bruno began eating. He did not want Maria to observe his relief. “Um, there is always hope Maria. Perhaps he took a business trip.”
“I am hoping that is true,” she said watching Bruno eat ravenously.
He was about to speak. Instead, he coughed food like a pig on the table and reached for his chest.
“Bruno, are you sick?” Maria asked without leaving her chair.
Bruno grabbed his shirt as if the action might slow the rapid pounding of his heart.
He gasped, a ragged sound as invisible needles perforated his organs.
His eyes traveled to Maria who sat drinking. Her wineglass shivered or perhaps he deliberated in the panic-stricken moment that it was the result of his convulsions. When he toppled to the floor, Maria sat down her wine glass.
The strangest thing occurred. Alexandros giggled.
Simultaneously, the doorbell resounded a
nd she leaped in fear, wondering if it was any of Bruno’s family or his newly hired guard. She grabbed Bruno’s arms in an attempt to drag him into the kitchen but then abandoned the task when the bell dinged rapidly many times.
“Aye Alexandros, I’ll be back!” she exclaimed and hurried to the door.
She took a deep breath, fingered her rosary beads, praying fervently for forgiveness. Then she smoothed her hair, lifted her chin and opened the door.
“Shalom,” Yosef said.
Maria’s brows furrowed at the black van behind him. There were men tossing what appeared to be a person into the rear compartment.
“Yosef, what are you doing here?”
He walked in without invitation. “My wife has sent me.”
He marched to the dining room, observed Bruno’s body and hoisted him up with ease. “Clear the food, get the child. We must go once I have staged the body.”
Maria followed Yosef’s instructions.
On the private plane from Northern Italy to Sicily is when she relaxed, eternally grateful to Sophie for sending her aid because she could not have completed the task without Yosef’s help. Tomorrow morning the cook might find the body or a wife who recently returned from a trip.
Either way, Bruno was dead.
When she cried, Yosef ignored the woman. From what his wife had shared, Bruno the scoundrel deserved death for many actions, including his involvement in the killing of Anna, which he had often considered, but peace dictated he should not.
He reclined as the aircraft prepared for a descent.
Poor Anna.
Death at his hands would’ve been kinder.
Chapter 29
Lucia flagged down an approaching car on the road leading to the docks. The man that emerged with the most loving expression caused her to swoon at his sight.
Sergio rushed to his wife as she collapsed. He lifted her, holding her to his chest, whispering she was safe and he loved her. His chest heaved at the sight of Lucia’s condition and stroked the bruised face, angered, yet ecstatic she lived.
A guard hurried forward, helping Sergio place Lucia gently on the backseat.
