by Debra Lee
“How did you meet Marcus?”
His eyes narrowed. “What is this, a hundred questions?”
The sinister look he gave Jackie sent a chill through her. But she couldn’t let him see her fright and managed a smile. “I was just making conversation. But you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
“You’re right about that. Now be a good girl and get me another drink.” Jackie didn’t miss the fact that his words came in a tone as a direct order. When she stood and carried his glass to the bar, his second command came. “Pour yourself one while you’re pouring. It might loosen you up a little. I’d swear if I didn’t know better that you were a tight virgin afraid to get your cherry popped.”
The more Jackie got to know him, the more she disliked him. She did as told and poured a drink for herself. Perhaps he was right. A drink might be what she needed. And as the next minutes turned into an hour, she had refilled their glasses so many times she lost count.
The heat of his breath closing over her mouth sobered her immediately. She jerked away from him. “I’m not ready for this,” she said and sat tall on the edge of the sofa, yanking her dress down as far as it would go on her thighs.
“I like a tease. And you’ve been doing a very good job ever since I arrived. But I’ve had my fill. Now I want what I came for.”
When he first pushed her back so her head landed on the arm of the sofa, she resisted. Then, she didn’t know if it was from too much bourbon or the weight of him on top of her that made her go limp. She knew his hands were pushing her dress over her thighs. And she knew he was slobbering all over her face as his one hand massaged a breast. But she felt none of it.
She’d become an expert blocking out things that were too unpleasant to tolerate, like now. She continued to block what was happening when the hardness entered the opening between her thighs and thrust in and out without mercy until he grunted with his climax.
Sweat beads dropped off his forehead and landed on her cheek. But Jackie felt nothing. It wasn’t until he rose off of her and a gush of fresh air hit her that she returned to life.
“I think Marcus was right about you,” he mumbled as he staggered out of the room toward the bathroom.
What was Marcus right about she wondered as she peeled her back off the sticky leather and sat up.
***
Marcus bolted upright on the bed in his LA hotel suite. Remembering the drive back to Rome that last day he saw Jackie tugged at his heart. He remembered Roberto took his eyes off the road long enough to look over at his front seat passenger. “Is it something this old employee can help with?”
Marcus continued to stare straight ahead at the winding road. “You know me pretty well, don’t you, Roberto?”
“I have been around since you were born. I’d say that’s long enough to know when something is bothering you.”
“Did I make the right decision?” This time he glanced at his driver.
“I’m surprised you don’t already have the answer.”
“I know my immediate future depends on the American being satisfied. And I know my father is expecting me to marry Talia Calvetti. But I don’t love her.”
“You made the right decision, Marcus. And as time goes on you’ll fall in love with dozens of Jackie Bertoni’s.”
“I tend to disagree with you on this one, my friend.”
That was the last time Marcus spoke until Roberto parked the rented limousine outside his father’s villa in Rome.
The first thing Marcus noticed when he stepped out of the car was the place being guarded like a fortress.
“Marcus, my son,” Joseph DeMario called as he rushed out the front door of his home.
“Father,” Marcus managed as the large man threw his strong arms around his son.
As Joseph leaned back so he could get a better look at his son, Marcus saw something new in the man’s eyes. “What’s going on, Father? Why all the soldiers? You expecting a war or something?” Marcus’s last question was laced with humor in hopes of seeing that big smile that always made his father appear so sure of himself. But Marcus didn’t see the smile.
“I will explain everything once we’re inside,” Joseph told him as he draped his arm over his son’s shoulder and hurried him indoors to the room he used as his office.
A dozen men at a time would sometimes sit in the large room while their boss praised them for the superb jobs they were doing. And then there were those other times when only one man would sit across the desk from Joseph. That man was Tony Muzzerelli. The man responsible for collecting money from the local shop owners, who paid handsomely for the protection Joseph DeMario gave them. Protection against people like the Delio family who would rob them of everything they spent their lives acquiring.
“First,” Joseph began as he sat behind his desk, “I want to congratulate you. I’ve been told you put together the deal with our American associate without the help of your cousin.”
Marcus sat in the straight back leather chair across the desk from his father. “That’s right. Sally was having some trouble with the police.”
“Yes, I’ve been told. But I’m afraid that’s the least of our worries.” Joseph opened the gold cigarette case on his desktop. He pulled a cigarette from the container and lit it. “You see son, a lot has happened since you left the other day.”
“Sally mentioned the winery was blown up.”
“That’s true. There also were a few hits on some of our best men. An attempt on my life as well.”
“Who? Sally pointed the finger to the Delios. But it sounded like he has his own fight with that family.”
“Well if he does, he’s not alone. In a meeting with Lucas Delio, I was asked to relinquish the Capri and Venice operations to him. Of course I refused. If the Delios had control, those shopkeepers would starve. Lucas Delio always did want to control all of Italy.”
“But he’s never tried to take over any of our operations before, has he?”
“No. I had his respect, even from his soldiers. Now, this new generation, this new breed, knows nothing of respect. Of the honor granted me for my fairness to the people of this country.”
“Have you ordered hits on the Delio family?”
Joseph took a long drag on his cigarette. And as he exhaled, he leaned back in his chair. “We are at war, Marcus. The blood bath won’t end until Lucas Delio is dead.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jackie left her seat on the plane to use the restroom and to try and clear her head. She had no desire to continue looking at her past. But something inside convinced her it was the only way to move forward with her life.
She returned to her seat, determined to let her thoughts travel back in time to that morning on the yacht.
When Jackie woke it took her a few seconds before she realized where she was or who the man was snoring next to her. Then the disgusting events of the night before flooded her head. Once was bad enough. But then he’d insisted she shower with him. After they washed each other he penetrated her a second time. Then Desmond Sinclair insisted she mount him on the bed. It was after midnight before he finally rolled away from her. His snores followed. The sound brought a sigh of relief from Jackie.
Quietly, she slid off the edge of the bed. She pulled on her blue jeans from the day before and was buttoning her blouse as she left the bedroom and headed for the upper deck. The storm from the night before left behind a clean smell that filled her nostrils as she walked to the railing. The brilliant rays of sunshine were already heating the day. Yes, a beautiful day was ahead. But Jackie feared her day might not be so lovely. It was certainly getting off to a dreadful start when bits and pieces of the night before began taking shape.
“I must remember to send Marcus a bonus.”
“A bonus,” Jackie repeated as she bounced on top of him.
“Yes. But you know I’m already paying a small fortune for you as it is.”
Jackie could see by the way his face twisted with sweet a
gony she’d have to wait until he finished his climax to come back with a question to that last comment. But the despicable man had fallen asleep never giving her the opportunity.
“Looks like a nice day to do some fishing.”
Jackie’s insides jumped, but she managed to remain still when his voice came at her from behind.
“You fish?” she asked, sensing him moving toward her.
“Only when I come here,” he said as he stepped next to her. “I work very hard all year long, Jackie. About five years ago when I was here on location making a movie, I fell in love with this place. Since then, this is where I come to get away from it all.”
Her grip on the railing became so fierce her knuckles were draining of their color. “I guess the island is special to a lot of people.” She finally looked over at him. “I fell in love for the first time here.”
“Do I know the lucky guy?”
Her pleasant smile was to persuade him to accept the change she was about to make in the conversation. “Desmond, what did you mean last night when you said you were paying enough already?”
“I am sorry. I sometimes get a little out of line when I drink.” He placed his hand on hers. “You are worth every penny.” First a sick, nauseated sensation attacked here. Then a sharp stabbing slashed away at her heart. She suspected her expression must have showed her pain when Desmond said, “Are you okay?”
“No,” she cried. “How could he? How could he do this to me?”
“Do what?”
“He sold me to you, didn’t he?” Desmond stared at her confused. “Answer me, damn it?”
“Well I wouldn’t put it quite like that. Every year I come here I’m supplied with a companion. And yes, I pay the DeMarios for it.”
“It was all a lie…”
The next thing she remembered was waking up in bed, Desmond sitting in a chair next to her. “Welcome back young lady.”
“What happened?”
“You went out cold. Good I caught you or you might have ended up with a goose egg or something.”
Jackie smiled over at him. Perhaps she had this American figured wrong. Maybe he had a heart after all. “Thank you for saving me from a goose egg or something,” she murmured with a smile.
“You’re welcome. Hey, you hungry?”
She was still smiling when she nodded a yes.
“Okay. Now don’t you go anywhere while I go see what I can scare up.”
She watched him stand and head for the door. “Desmond.”
He stopped at the door and turned back to her. “You changed your mind?”
“No. I just wanted another look. You are handsome you know.”
The man was actually blushing when he left the room.
Jackie laid her head back on the pillow. She couldn’t fight it. Her memory was too clear now. Desmond’s truthful words were right there. She didn’t think it possible anyone could be more manipulative than Papa. How wrong she’d been.
She hadn’t thought about it before. But now she was. Her mama wasn’t perfect. But she was a whole lot smarter than Jackie had ever given credit.
“I watch you study. I listen to your teachers. And I learn that you are smart. You must use this and your beauty to outwit the men who will always try to control you.” The sound of Mama’s voice was very clear. Jackie promised herself Marcus was the last man that would ever use her.
Chapter Nineteen
In Marcus’s LA hotel suite, he showered and dressed to leave for home. He didn’t want to remember anymore. But his thoughts defied him and returned to that unforgettable day at his home in Rome all those years ago.
Marcus dressed quickly, eager to begin the day, only a few shy of him becoming a full fledged partner with his father. His only regret was the war with the Delio family was still ahead of him.
His thoughts drifted back to the night before, when his father permitted him to take part in the meeting with Tony Muzzerelli. The meeting left him confident the entire matter with the Delios would soon be behind him.
If only he could feel that confident about putting thoughts of Jackie Bertoni behind him as well, the day ahead would look a whole lot easier. But a vision of her was always there. Every time he turned around, there she was, edging her way into his head.
Even now, as he closed the bedroom door behind him and started down the hallway, she was with him.
“Well, haven’t you been the busy one while I was away,” Marcus stated sarcastically after he watched Sylvia tiptoe out of his father’s bedroom.
The slender brunette wheeled around on her heels. “Marcus!” All the color drained from her face like she’d seen a ghost. “I didn’t expect you back. I mean I didn’t know you were.” She was quick to correct as her fingers fumbled nervously with the buttons down the front of her black and white maid uniform.
“And if you had, would you be sneaking out of my bedroom half dressed instead of my father’s?”
“I don’t want to discuss that now,” she stated simply and breezed past him.
Marcus snickered as he watched her hurry down the hall, butt wiggling until she rounded the corner and was lost from sight. He shoved back his shoulders then cleared his throat as he turned to face the solid oak bedroom door.
His knuckles tapped lightly on the polished wood. When there was no response, he tapped harder. Still nothing, he turned the brass doorknob.
A few seconds after he entered the master bedroom suite, his deafening cry of, “No,” echoed from the walls of the mansion.
The sound of his painful scream cut up Sylvia’s spine like a knife as she ducked inside her car and sped away.
Tony Muzzerelli was the first to charge into the bedroom. At least a half dozen armed men followed. Tony pried Marcus off the lifeless body of Joseph on the bed. Once standing, Marcus rolled his shoulders forward to shake free of Tony’s grip. “Can’t you see you’re too late,” he blasted at the crowd of armed men. “All of you get out.”
“You heard him. Everybody out,” Tony ordered and proceeded to show them to the door. “Make the necessary calls,” he told Roberto before turning back to Marcus. “We’ll get the guy who did this.”
“What guy? It was Sylvia. The God damn housekeeper shot him.”
“You sure about that?”
“I saw her leave the room.” He glanced over to the bed. “She must’ve had a silencer tucked in her apron pocket.”
“We’ll find her. And when we do I’ll personally take care of her.”
“No. Bring her to me.”
As Tony nodded him a yes, his eyes lingered on the front of Marcus’s blood soaked white shirt. “I’ll put out the word on the street. You’ll have her by tonight.”
The knock came at the door before Roberto poked his head inside. “The police have arrived, Marcus. Is it okay to send them up?”
A painful, “No,” broke from his lips.
Marcus hovered over the blood splattered body of his father. He was on the verge of breaking down all over again. But when he reached down and gripped Joseph’s hand, a hardening sensation moved through him.
His eyes met Tony’s, then Roberto’s. “Send them up.”
The room filled quickly with law enforcement personnel. During the commotion, Marcus stood at the window with his back to all of it.
“Do you have any idea who did this, young man?” The chief put to Marcus as he came up alongside him.
Marcus knew his father was the one responsible for the man’s promotion to chief. And because Joseph had pulled strings for the man, he had been in his debt. The chief would turn over the city to find Sylvia. But Marcus wasn’t about to let the authorities have her and looked him straight in the eyes when he said, “No.”
Nothing more was said. Marcus watched silently as strangers loaded his father on a stretcher and carried him away. Only then did Marcus leave the bedroom and close himself in his father’s office with Tony.
***
Corporate America had found its way into Rome. Altho
ugh the center section of the city had remained the old Rome with its historical landmarks. It was on the outskirts one saw hotels and restaurants popping up and now, the complex of offices.
Sylvia brought her car to a screeching halt outside the center office complex. She jumped out of the vehicle in too big of a hurry to bother closing the car door behind her. “I thought one of your men was going to get rid of Marcus DeMario in Capri.”
“Sylvia, won’t you come in and join us,” Lucas Delio offered even though the woman had already barged inside his office uninvited.
Only Sylvia could get away with intruding on the private discussion Lucas was having with his right hand man. Anyone else would witness a flare up of his temper that more times than not would strike with a vengeance. But the expensively suited Lucas Delio was eager to learn the outcome of his highly paid assassin’s job.
“Well!” Sylvia stood at the bar and plopped ice cubes in a glass. “Aren’t you going to answer me, Lucas?” She filled her glass with Scotch before wheeling around to glare at the man.
Lucas’s sidekick answered for him. “It seems the soldier given the order to hit Marcus got cold feet. A fatal mistake on his part.”
Lucas glanced down at his gold wristwatch. “Right about now I’d say Salvatore DeMario’s feet are rather hot.”
***
Salvatore DeMario wasted no time leaving Capri after his meeting with his cousin. He knew losing his nerve could easily cost him his life. Then again, maybe it wasn’t that he’d lost his nerve. Perhaps his upbringing that taught loyalty had kept him from going through with the order handed down to kill Marcus. Yes, he contemplated that had to be what kept him from making the trade off he’d agreed to with Lucas a few days earlier.
Lucas Delio knew Salvatore’s weak spot. And when he promised him a second chance at making his lifelong dream of becoming world champion boxer a reality, Salvatore fell for the bait, hook, line and sinker. So what if Lucas would be buying off his opponent. Salvatore wanted the heavyweight championship title. It didn’t matter what it cost to get it. But maybe knowing ahead of time his opponent would take a fall, made a difference when it counted the most. When he knew he couldn’t kill Marcus, his flesh and blood.
