by Sienna Mynx
“He has skill, Gio, he’s good,” Mirabella said.
“I think you’re right, Bella,” Giovanni smiled.
They didn’t think Ciro would win the fight. He had taken a beating. But he’d lasted three rounds. He landed some of the hardest hitting blows. For a rookie he was quite light on his feet.
“Gio,” Santo shouted over the cheering. He scooted past Renaldo and then Dominic to reach them. Mirabella rolled her eyes and looked back to the ring.
“I got a page. Mirabella needs to call home. It’s one of the kids.”
“What? What did he say?” Mirabella asked.
“Andiamo,” Giovanni said as he took her hand to stand.
“Boss! Wait,” Santo said.
Giovanni frowned at Santo.
“The Donna just needs to call home. They said one of the kids is achy. They need to talk to her. Not an emergency. There’s a phone in the ticket office. I can take her.”
“Stay, honey,” Mirabella said. “I’ll go call and check in. If we need to leave we can.”
Mirabella kissed Giovanni’s cheek. She could see the objection in his furrowed brow. She had to use the bathroom as well. It was perfect timing for a break. Giovanni didn’t immediately consent. He never let her out of his sight in public if he could help it. She didn’t want him to shift into panic mode and end the evening. They were having so much fun. “It’s probably Gianni and his ear infection. Cecilia has to give him his medicine. She has some questions possibly. I can handle it.”
“Take three men with you,” he told Santo. “No. Take six.”
“Gio!” Mirabella laughed. “Three is fine, Santo. Please take me to the phone.”
He bowed his head in respect. “She won’t leave my sight.”
Mirabella heard the bell ring and her heart sank. She glanced back to see Ciro step up and Chao Lee ready for the next round. If she hurried she’d possibly make it back before there was a knock out or official call. She crossed her fingers.
The men flanked her on the left and right. One walked behind her. Santo led the way. He glanced back at her twice when they breeched the crowd who couldn’t return to their seats. They walked along chamber halls that curved in odd angles. He led them away from the people buying food and socializing. They turned a corner and then another. She found it odd that they kept walking. How far was this ticket office with a phone? She glanced over to Leonardo. He smiled at her with encouragement. She smiled in return and tried to ignore the knot of fear curling tighter in her gut.
These halls were dusty. She felt her nose itch and suppressed the urge to sneeze. With her head down she checked her purse for a tissue. It was then that Santo attacked. He grabbed her arm and yanked her forward, and then his arm went around her throat. Mirabella blinked in shock, not sure of what was happening. She believed at first he grabbed her to protect her, and possibly the men did so as well. All three froze and looked at Santo with confusion. In that split second he was an assassin. He drew his gun on them. Leonardo took a bullet between the eyes. The other two were both shot before Leonardo dropped. Mirabella screamed. She fought for release. Santo’s arm snaked tighter around her neck. It cut off her breathing. She reached back and scratched at his eyes.
The bitch scratched him. Santo had to let her go. She ran as soon as she was released. She was screaming to the top of her lungs. With his face bleeding he ran her down before she got too far ahead, and she stopped and turned on him. She landed a punch to his face and a kick to his groin. The blows hurt him more than he thought possible. He stumbled back. She ran from him screaming for help. He ran after her again and grabbed her by the hair. Before she could use those razor sharp nails on him he threw her into the wall. She hit her head hard against the brick and dropped like a rag doll.
“Bitch! Damn it!” he yelled at her. He looked up. A confused couple was staring at them. He drew his gun and fired, killing the man but the woman got away. Santo had no time to deal with it. He had minutes to get out of the chamber to his car. Only minutes. He picked up an unconscious Mirabella and threw her over his shoulder. His heart was in his throat. If he didn’t see it through he was a dead man.
**
Chao Lee took several hard punches to the face. Everyone jumped to their feet expecting this to be the take down. It looked as if Ciro had found his second wind. Chao hugged Ciro to stop his swing, and the ref was in the ring to make his customary attempt to separate the men. Giovanni checked his watch. His wife had been gone fifteen minutes. That was too long. He glanced to Dominic with a curious frown. It was in that split second he missed what precipitated murder.
When his gaze returned to the ring it felt as if it did so in slow motion. Chao delivered a jaw breaking punch to the referee and knocked him down. He then grabbed Ciro by the head. One hard twist and the kid’s neck was broken. The crowd went silent. Even Carlo froze, not sure of what he saw. And slowly Ciro dropped dead to the center of the ring.
“Gio!” Renaldo yelled. Dominic was knocked back and Renaldo slammed into him. He was brought to the ground. Renaldo provided cover from the onslaught of bullets as panic spread through the auditorium. He could hear the projectile of gunfire zipping past him and his men. When Renaldo didn’t move Giovanni pushed back and his top enforcer rolled down the bench seats. Renaldo’s chest was covered in blood. The bullets meant Renaldo had been hit repeatedly. He wasn’t sure if he was alive. There was no time to react. Amidst the chaos his wife was not at his side.
Giovanni’s men returned fire. But at who? Who the fuck was shooting?
“Bella! Find her!” Giovanni shouted to the others. He was shoved to the exit. He glanced back to see one of his men’s head explode by the ricochet of a bullet, and another two get dropped.
“Santo has her. Let’s go!” Dominic said forcing him out of the arena.
“Renaldo?” Giovanni asked and then called the names of the countless other men who were down.
“Gio! Go!” Dominic shoved him. “We have to get you out of here.”
Carlo was in the ring. Ciro was on the ground and the officials were charging in. It happened in a flash. In a blink of the eye his brother’s life was taken. And though he had a wall of men between him, the primal urge to avenge his brother gave him herculean strength. There were gunshots. He didn’t care. Those that cowered and ran for safety gave him the advantage he needed. He reached Chao who was ready. Carlo took several hits to the head and throat before he brought the bastard out of his shield of protection. Men were on them. But Carlo was able to straddle Chao and his hands fit tightly around his throat. Men struggled to pull him off. He squeezed and squeezed with his hands until his arms shook and every vein in his face and throat bulged. Chao’s tongue protruded and his eyes popped with the vacant sign of death. Chao was dead, and the auditorium was in pandemonium. Several of Carlo’s attackers were shot. The others who were members of the Triad began to beat and kick Carlo. He didn’t care. He wanted to die. And then the Carabinieri were inside the ring breaking up the fight. Carlo was freed; beaten and bleeding he crawled toward Ciro. His brother’s neck was twisted, turned awkwardly to the left. Carlo dragged Ciro’s lifeless body to him and wrapped him up in his arms. On his knees he hugged his dead brother to his chest.
“Maro' ch'aggio cumbinato!” he said through his tears. “Maro' ch'aggio cumbinato!”
**
“Are you going to stay?” Marietta’s head lifted from the pillow.
“I’ve been gone a week,” Lorenzo said. He pulled down a fresh shirt. Marietta dropped on her pillow and closed her eyes. They barely spoke after leaving Maria’s. When they returned home they went straight to bed. She tried to initiate sex. It was awkward for them both. He refused her. Lorenzo never refused sex. Instead he lay with her and held her until he thought she was sleep.
“I’ll be back before morning,” he said.
“Maybe you should sleep in a different room when you come home? Maybe that’s what you prefer?”
Lorenzo walked around the
bed. He sat down. He moved her hair from her face. “I don’t need any more space from my wife. Stop with the crazy talk, Marie. You shot a woman and broke into a whorehouse. There are a few things I need to make sure are taken care of so no trouble comes to you.”
She looked up at him. “You care?”
“Don’t do this, Marie. We have problems but we can get past them.”
“I need you to stay with me. I don’t feel good, Lo.”
He kissed her brow. “Sleep.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and didn’t respond. She’d never been so weak. Even with him in the heat of their worst arguments, she never broke. Something was different now. She was emotionally defeated. He kissed her cheek once more, and then her shoulder. He turned her chin and kissed her in the mouth. It was a sweet tease of a kiss. “Marie, when I come back we’ll talk again. Whatever you want. Ti amo.”
“I’m tired.” She rolled away.
“We’ll talk again when I come back,” he repeated.
Lorenzo headed for the door. He looked back at his wife. She had pulled the covers over her head and curled into a fetal position. He almost turned back to comfort her. There was love between them, he had no doubt. But something else had moved in to divide them. It was distrust. She shocked him. He’d never seen her so crazed and in so much pain. Maybe it was his fault. He took a lot of things for granted with Marie. He’d have to pay more attention to her now. Find a way to fix what’s broken between them. He loved her deeply, and though her actions gutted him, he’d put a bullet in any man or person that tried to take her from him. They were the same on that score. When the door opened he saw Leo and Umberto headed toward him. He met them in the hall.
“Che cosa?” he asked.
“Got a call, boss. We have to get to Napoli,” Leo said. “Nico is already gone.”
“Perchè? Ciro lost the fight?” Lorenzo asked.
“Ciro is dead. The clans are headed to Venditto’s. Someone took a shot at Giovanni.”
Lorenzo ran down the hall for the door. The men were on his heels. “He has Mirabella with him. Umberto, stay here with the women. Leo, come with me.”
The Dragon
Giovanni paced with his hands to his head. The minutes ticked on in excruciating slowness. Several clans were mixed in with his. The bosses were all shouting at each other. A blatant attack on their turf was unheard of. He looked down at his hands. He could see them tremble as rage vibrated through every sinew, every muscle. It was the only proof that maddening fear gripped him. Bella was missing! Bella was missing! Bella was missing! He had to stay calm. He had to keep focused. Santo was with her. Santo would protect her. He reassured himself over and over. Giovanni clenched his hand into a fist to stop the shakes. Nothing worked.
Dominic was now in the room. He shoved his way through several of the underbosses and arrived to the back where Giovanni, Tacchi, Racchini, and Benicia waited. The men all stood. Giovanni continued to pace. Dominic threw Mirabella’s purse on the table.
“Where is she?” Giovanni asked.
“Leonardo, Alexi, and Giulio are dead. The boys found her purse.”
“Santo?” Giovanni asked.
“He’s missing. He might have been ambushed. Renaldo and several of our men were hit. I don’t know who’s alive or who’s dead. The Carabinieri and polizia are swarming the streets. Doors are closed to us right now.”
Giovanni shuddered with rage. He tightened both his hands into fists. He spoke through clenched teeth to keep the emotion from his voice. Every man, including the clan bosses, understood the dangers of a kidnapping. They’d all been guilty at one time or another of ordering a hit. Rarely was the person who was kidnapped returned alive.
“Who? Who did this?” Giovanni stammered.
“Triad,” Benicia spoke.
Don Tacchi frowned. “We don’t know—”
“We know!” Don Benicia said. “The fucking place was infested with them, like cockroaches. It was the first thing I noticed when I arrived. It’s them!” he slammed his fist into his hand.
“Boss, I shot a few myself, all of them Asian. Chao Lee turned on Ciro in the ring? It had to be a hit,” said one of Tacchi’s men.
“Which means they were after Mirabella. The fight, all of it was a cover. They were after Mirabella,” Giovanni said. “And I fucking handed my wife over to them.”
“How could they get to her? How could they know she’d be vulnerable?” Racchini asked.
“Santo, the pentito.” Benicia said.
Giovanni fell forward with his fists slammed on the table and his head bowed. “FIND HIM! Bring him to me. NOW!” He shouted.
**
Mirabella opened her eyes. The darkness surrounding her was impenetrable. She lay on her side with her hands and feet bound. A putrid rag was stuffed into her mouth, and then another was tied around her mouth to keep her silent. She blinked rapidly to confirm her eyes were open and she wasn’t dreaming. The toxic stench of exhaust fumes and motor oil clogged her nostrils and polluted her lungs. She gagged. The side of her head hurt so badly, she kept battling against the urge to blank out once again. But she had to stay awake. She had to fight hard to stay alert.
In flashes she recalled the terror. It was Santo. He killed poor Leonardo and the men she considered family, right before her eyes. Mirabella began to cry for them and her self. She remembered trying to fight, to run, but the rest was a haze of being carried and thrown about. She closed her eyes and wept. She prayed. She waited. Whatever fate lie for her at the end of this car ride, she needed to be ready.
Santo switched the lights off on his car. He coasted along the marina with his foot barely pressed to the gas pedal. There was no one to be seen. Most of the boats docked were silent and unoccupied. And then he saw them. Kei Hyogo stood on the pier with Isabella. Why was she there? That wasn’t the plan. Isabella was supposed to meet with Bonaduce and secure his protection while the Triad warred with la Camorra.
Kei took a step forward. He had changed into what looked like a long black silk shirt and trousers. The wind tussled his hair in his face. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back. This was it, the point of no return. Giovanni would have been told by now. He had to see it to the very end. Santo had been friends with Giovanni since they were kids. He’d loved him like a brother. Even when hatred festered in his heart he had regrets for what they had become. Santo opened the car door and stepped out into the night.
Kei’s man stepped to him. Tall, with a shaven head of tattoos, he patted Santo down and removed the two guns he had on him.
“Do you have her?” Kei asked.
“She’s in the trunk,” Santo said.
The man looked back to Kei and nodded that he was clean. Santo waited as Kei Hyogo approached.
The car stopped. Mirabella blinked several times unable to focus. She heard the car door open. There were voices. She wanted to scream but the gag on her mouth was too tight. She struggled to get free. Maybe if she could release her hands she could find something to use as a weapon. And then she thought of her gun. Giovanni pleaded with her to keep it with her, and she had been foolish enough to actually believe she would never need it.
Mirabella felt hopeless.
Kei walked around to the back of the car. He waited for Santo to release the trunk and open it. The inner light flashed on. Mirabella lay still. Her eyes were closed. She had a gag in her mouth, and her hands and feet were bound.
He looked to Santo for an explanation of the blood on Mirabella’s face. “Did you touch her?”
“She tried to get away. I only—”
Kei slammed his iron fist into Santo’s face. Santo staggered and lost balance as his mouth poured blood. Kei stepped over him, flexing his iron fingers that had ripped flesh from the side of Santo’s face. He spoke in Mandarin of his wishes to his men, who picked Santo up by the arms and dragged him away. The muffled cry behind him drew his attention. Mirabella was struggling against her restraints. He nodded to his men. The closest
one to the car reached in and brought her out. Mirabella fought as best she could. Kei removed a blindfold from his pocket. He walked over. She hung upside down. He tied the blindfold over her eyes as she struggled harder. He then took her into his arms.
She froze. Did she recognize his touch or was it his imagination? She didn’t resist. He kissed her cheek and she mumbled something under her gag. She turned her face away from him. Kei had no choice but to put her over his shoulder to carry her. He started for the boat.
**
“The marina,” Dominic said.
The men looked up. Giovanni was now seated with the clan bosses. Unbeknownst to them he was too weak with grief and worry to stand. Trapped in his head were all the wild imaginings of what was happening to his wife, while he sat on his dick being fucking useless. There were raids going on now. The polizia were snatching his men off the streets. It made any plausible search impossible.
“They had to take her there. The only way to get her out would be the marina,” said Dominic.
Giovanni nodded in agreement. “Send my men. Get them in the water,” he managed to say. The other bosses looked at Giovanni and nodded in agreement that their men would join the search.
**
Mirabella was carried. She could smell the dank fishy water of the sea, and feel the bob and wave when they transferred her over to what she guessed to be a boat. She knew who had her and it only further confused and terrified her. The moment Kei spoke she recognized his voice. And when he spoke in Mandarin it was confirmed.
