Cosa Nostra by Emma Nichols) 16656409 (z-lib.org) (1)-compressed

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.