by Неизвестный
pace back. How the fucking hell had Vittorio got shot? She looked into
Giovanni’s eyes. “Is he okay?”
Giovanni tilted his head. “He will live, thanks to Roberto.”
She frowned. “What the fuck happened?”
“He took Roberto with him to decommission a fleet last night.”
Her eyes narrowed further. She glanced towards the closed door of
the villa. Pesto was chasing along the beach. “And?” she said, watching the
dog paddling.
“Vittorio took out the Romano brothers. They were working out of a
garage on the industrial park. Thank fuck he took Roberto with him
otherwise he would be the one dead. Gavino sunk a bullet into him before
Roberto finished the job. Roberto torched the place and took Vittorio to
Doctor Danté. He’s in hospital now though. He should pull through, but it’s
not clear what the impact is. He might have nerve damage.”
Maria pressed the tips of her fingers tightly to her scalp, Patrina’s
plea for them to work together as a team screaming in her head. “It’s a
fucking mess.” The words slipped through her teeth on a sigh.
Giovanni turned and looked out to sea. “They needed
decommissioning, Donna Maria, not just their fleet.”
“I know. It’s okay.” Maria sighed. The situation was far from okay.
The feeling that time was running out had woken her in a near sweat, and it
hadn’t been from the joy of Simone lying next to her in the bed. Alessandro
wasn’t going to take this, and the first place he would point the finger was
in her direction.
“The police found what was left of the two trucks of wine and
tobacco at the workshop. They were in the process of loading a delivery.
The ‘Ndrangheta will take credit for the hit and burning down the workshop
as payback. With Alessandro refusing to pay them what he owes, it’s a
natural response. They think Gavino was moving up the ranks too quickly.
‘Ndrangheta don’t like that. They believe in earning the right to lead.
Respect is important to them. At least we have that in common, eh?” He
laughed lightly.
Maria nodded and gritted her teeth. Pesto ran to her with a stick and
dropped it at her feet. She launched it up the beach and watched him run. At
least Giovanni had cleared up the mess. The ‘Ndrangheta’s reputation
would only benefit from this scenario. “Good work, Giovanni. Well done.”
He looked towards the villa. “Will you both stay here today, Maria?”
She smiled. “We’re going to go diving.”
His smile slowly disappeared. “We should still expect
repercussions.”
She nodded. “Alessandro is being elusive. How is Roberto?”
“Roberto is professional. He’s fine.”
Maria’s eyes shifted to the villa. “She’s not going to like that he’s
involved.” That was an understatement and another problem that haunted
her nights now.
“No.”
Maria tilted her chin upwards and closed her eyes. How could she
tell Simone her brother had just killed a man? If Simone discovered the
extent to which Roberto was now involved, Simone would never speak to
her again. The box in the back of her mind was fast overloading.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
She looked to Giovanni then to the villa. “Wait here.” She jogged
back to the house and returned to him with Simone’s passport. “I need
alternative documents. Driver’s license, everything.” She handed him the
passport. “Can you get that back to me by the end of the day?”
He nodded.
“Can you get the restaurant to send over something special for
dinner? About eight.”
“Yes.”
Maria looked out to sea, to the edge of the cove. Careless, Patrina
had said.
“When are you going to tell Simone about Roberto?”
She breathed into the pressure that compressed her ribs. “Soon.”
“I’ll sort out the documents.” He started to walk away.
“Giovanni.”
“Yes, Donna Maria.”
“Can you get the locks on the beach door changed, please?”
He frowned.
“Patrina paid me a visit last night.” She indicated with her eyes to
the right-hand side of the cove where it opened to the sea, where the Bedda
was moored.
His posture stiffened. “I’ll get the locksmith out here while you are
diving. And either me or Angelo will monitor the cove.” He looked up to
the high cliffs to their right and pointed. “From up there.”
She smiled. “Thank you.” She could only hope it would be enough.
27.
Yawning, Simone blinked into the early morning sunlight, closed
her eyes, and enjoyed the moment of gentle warmth that caressed her face.
The sun would burn too fiercely to be savoured later in the day. A
rhythmical thud already caught her attention, and she turned to watch Maria
sparring. She leaned over the banister on the veranda, and her spine tingled
in light waves. She sipped her coffee and found it hard to swallow. Maria
danced with the athleticism of a panther and jabbed her gloved hands with
the precision of a golden eagle attacking its prey. A light sheen glistened on
her toned shoulders and arms, and the beads of sweat on her forehead
trickled down her temples. So sexy. The thrum between Simone’s legs
increased, and she cleared her throat and looked out to sea. It did nothing to
curb her lust. She sipped her coffee then returned her attention to Maria.
Maria puffed out a short sharp breath with every blow in a
rhythmical pattern that she delivered with precision and power. She
displayed graceful strength, an unrelenting determination, and ardent self-
discipline as she continued to throw punches. Watching Maria, an airy
feeling fluttered in Simone’s chest, and the pulsing beat lower down her
body that Maria had not long satisfied, cried out for release again. She
could still taste her, the silky softness that wetted her lips and the precise
touch that lit a fire across her skin and shivered its way inside her.
There had been a difference in their love making last night that
Simone couldn’t explain. A sensual depth and an intensity as if it were the
first and last time that they would be together. There was an appreciation of
every slow moment, every delicate touch, and every lingering look. Maria
had been unhurried, tender, and attentive. Slowly, Simone had trailed her
fingertips over Maria’s firm abs, and Maria’s muscles twitched and shaped
as they constricted and released. Seeing Maria in bliss, Simone’s heart had
raced, and then Maria’s cries of pleasure had sent electric waves tumbling
through her.
Maria landed a final punch on the bag then danced on toes with her
arms hanging loosely at her side. Simone smiled. “You look hot.”
Maria rubbed her forearm across her brow and puffed deep breaths.
“I am.”
“I didn’t mean that kind of hot.” Simone raised her eyebrows and
chuckled.
Maria smiled. “Come and have a go.”
Simone shook her head. “No thanks.”
Maria tucked a glove under her arm and freed
her hand, then pulled
off the second glove. “Come on, I’ll teach you.” She ran onto the veranda
and swept Simone into her arms, then gave her a sweaty, lingering kiss.
Simone complained as she laughed and batted her away. She looked
into Maria’s bright eyes, thumbed the crystal beads from her brow and
across the top of her lip, then kissed her deeply. Then she pulled out of
Maria’s hold, and Maria helped her squeeze her hands into the gloves.
Simone grimaced. “Yuk, they’re disgusting inside. They’re wet.”
Maria laughed and held out the second glove. “Come on.”
She ran back to the bag and stood next to it. Simone ambled towards
her. Simone threw a punch that landed like mist on a leaf.
Maria’s lips curled softly upwards, and she tilted her head. “Really.
You can do better than that. And again.”
Simone landed another punch that skirted off the side of the bag.
“Stay focused on where you want to hit it.”
Maria looked as though she was taking this seriously and indicated
for Simone to try again.
“Keep light on your toes, like you’re dancing.”
Simone started to bounce on her feet as instructed and focused her
attention on a mark on the skin of the bag. She hit the leather softly again,
and grinned, then dropped her arms to her side. “The gloves are heavy.”
“Gloves up in front of your face, to protect yourself.” Maria
demonstrated, with her fists adopting a position that blocked her mouth and
chin.
Simone groaned and raised the gloves into position.
“Keep your feet moving.”
“Oh, my God, there’s so much to think about.” Simone started
jogging from foot to foot.
“Guard up. Now, jab, jab.”
Maria demonstrated, and Simone followed the instructions, gritting
her teeth as she punched the bag.
“Stay relaxed. You can’t box if you’re tense, or you’ll injure
yourself.”
Simone relaxed her jaw, and her arms became floppy. Her punch
landed softly.
Maria laughed. “You need some tension in your arms, just not too
much.”
Simone wanted to stop and take Maria back to bed. “This is hard.
My arms feel like lead already.” She shook her head.
“You want to quit?”
Simone huffed. That was like red rag to a bull. She pulled the gloves
up to guard her face, started moving her feet, and landed a sequence of six
blows. Then her arms flopped limply at her side and she doubled over,
fighting to claim the air her lungs were screaming for. She pulled off the
gloves and dropped them. “I’m done.”
Smiling, Maria came to Simone and pulled her up into her arms. She
held Simone’s head in her hands and looked into her eyes as she kissed her
cheeks, her eyes, and then kissed her lips again.
Simone gasped and as she looked deeply into Maria’s eyes, her heart
stopped beating.
Maria smiled as she stroked the hair from Simone’s face. “You are
so beautiful.”
Simone inhaled and licked her lips. They still sizzled from Maria’s
electric touch and tasted of salt. She cleared her throat and even then, the
words croaked out of her. “I need a shower.” She moaned at the pressure of
Maria’s thumb moving across her lips. She saw a sparkle in Maria’s eyes
that no longer concealed the dark intensity that was always present behind
them.
Maria traced Simone’s lips with her fingertip. “You have such
kissable lips, you know?”
Simone brought her hand to cover Maria’s. She kissed Maria’s
fingers and caressed her palm to her cheek. She closed her eyes and
whispered, “Come and shower with me.”
28.
The newspaper was proving hard to read and not just because the
headlines further reinforced the Amato’s impending demise. There was no
doubt in Patrina’s mind that Alessandro was behind the hit on Don
Lombardo. His ambition to build the casino had led him down a greedy
path and for that, she could never forgive him. Additionally, no matter
which way Patrina tried to juggle the figures, the impact of the explosion,
their inability to further the casino project due to a lack of materials, and her
need to set aside funds to support her plan to engage the Spanish, had
depleted the Amato’s liquid assets. Fucking Alessandro. Fucking numbers.
But the intense feeling of discontent that had disturbed her night was about
more than the business. Simone living at Maria’s was one thing, but the fact
that Maria felt strongly for Simone—she’d seen it in her eyes—had been
like a puncture to her lungs. The painful truth had reinforced her sense of
vulnerability. She was alone and powerless.
She had spent her life fighting this emptiness, and yet it always
returned bigger, and bolder, and more insistent with each reincarnation. It
wormed its way into her slowly, burrowed snuggly, and then pervaded
every cell of her body. Her sense of inadequacy became stronger with the
pressure inside of her head. She had tried to be strong facing Maria. Her
heart ached with love looking at her, and then her head flashed with rage.
She wanted to scream and lash out at Maria but couldn’t. It’s not her fault.
The words were true, but they still warred with the fear that controlled her.
She missed Maria more than life itself. Maria had been her rock, her
stability, and her strength, though she had never admitted that to her. Now it
was too late. The emptiness had become more prevalent since their last
engagement, as if the cord from which they had fed each other had been
severed. They might as well be complete strangers, except for the other
sensation that haunted her nights with a dull, leaden ache that cocooned her
heart. She needed Maria more now than she ever had. If they worked
together again, they could become close. Age always gave the illusion of
time running out, and she certainly felt older, but it was never too late to
win back Maria’s heart.
Alessandro slammed the door of Café Tassimo and strode towards
the table.
Beto jerked to face him as he approached and bowed his head. With
his foot in a cast, he shuffled across the bench seat, extended his leg
underneath the table, and pulled himself to sit upright.
Patrina glanced up. At last, he surfaces. No longer would she hide
her contempt for Alessandro to the degree she had. She had tried to keep
him sweet, but showing any affection seemed futile in achieving a
connection with the man. He now needed to toe the line, and she would be
the one giving the instructions.
Alessandro communicated his demands with a simple flick of his
fingers at the barwoman as he ambled past the bar. Patrina stood and
greeted him with a kiss on his cheek though it revolted her to be near him,
let alone touch him. It always had, though now the feeling was more
meaningful and had the attention of her conscience. “I take it you haven’t
read the news?”
He started to laugh. His pupils were dilated, and the whites of his
eyes had streaks of red in them. There was
a wild and confused look about
him. He had clearly only recently finished partying at the club. He reeked of
tobacco and sex. She looked into his eyes, searching for a spark of
something resembling comprehension, but there was nothing. She leaned
back in the seat and waited until he stopped walking and was just about to
sit. “There was an incident at the garage late last night. Gavino and Autustu
were shot.”
Alessandro stood still, and his features remained unaffected for a
time, then he frowned and looked away from Patrina. His eyes darted
frantically, and his skin paled. He took a pace towards the door.
“Which hospital?”
He stared at her blankly. She waited until she had his attention, her
silence conveying the gravity of situation. “They are dead, Alessandro.”
He clicked his neck from side to side and clenched his teeth.
“Fucking Lombardo.”
Patrina shook her head. “No, Alessandro, this is the work of the
‘Ndrangheta. Don Chico is making his promise to you very clear. We need
to pay him.” Her tone was calm and measured. She knew that Vittorio was
being treated in hospital and was under no illusion that he was behind the
hit. He had done her a favour. The Romano brothers were unstable, and the
last thing she needed on her plate after disposing of her nephew was having
to deal with a power struggle with Gavino. She smiled inwardly as she
watched Alessandro’s appearance shift from rage to fear. He didn’t look any
more handsome with paler skin and still seemed to lack full comprehension
of the dilemma he faced. Pig.
Beto looked at Alessandro. “It’s true, Alessandro. Chico’s men were
spotted today at Picasso Plaza. They’re staying at the Grand.”
Patrina sipped her drink. That knowledge had brought her much
pleasure and a little anxiety, which she had reasoned away on the basis that
Alessandro was Chico’s main prize. The fact that the Italians were in the
city served her needs perfectly right now, because aligning themselves with
criminal incidents enhanced their reputation, and she would take full
advantage of the threat they presented to Alessandro.
Alessandro cocked his head to face Beto, and his lips curled into a
vindictive smile. He conveyed distrust in the anger that flared behind his
eyes. Beto lowered his head.
