by Sienna Mynx
However, at the moment he felt sick to his stomach with grief, not triumph. No one, not a single person could have convinced him of this betrayal. Lorenzo ordered the hit on Patri. The truth ran on instant replay in his head.
A car arrived. The German scientist was led out of the car. He walked over to the two Dons. Giovanni gaze cut away from the inferno to the man.
"Do I have my specimen?" The German asked.
Don Tacchini chuckled. "We gave her the first injection. She's waiting for you."
"And the lab? To do my research?" the scientist asked. Giovanni gave a nod.
"Her name?" the scientist asked.
"Isabella. But I think you call her specimen from here on out," Don Tacchini answered.
The scientist smiled. "I promise Don Giovanni. If there is a cure for the toxics that poison your wife I will find it."
"If not, do what you feel necessary." Giovanni said. The scientist chuckled. The man actually looked happy. He smiled and turned and walked away.
"Gio, about what we heard," Don Tacchini said. "That confession…"
"Lorenzo is a dead man. He is no longer a part of my family. Spread the word. Shoot him on sight." Giovanni turned and walked away. Umberto waited by the car. He got in the back of the car, and they left a stunned Tacchini standing in the backdraft of the inferno blazing through the hamlet. Giovanni closed his eyes, squeezed them shut. His thumb fingered the play button on the tape cassette. He pressed play, and he listened to his cousin’s betrayal again and again.
***
"You said Marietta knows about this?" Mirabella asked. She sat on the edge of the bed unable to catch her breath. The more Catalina told her, the more the fragile world of their family disintegrated.
"Domi thinks I slept with him. I didn't. I swear it. I didn't. I can't believe he won't talk to me. Please, Mirabella. Please speak to him. Tell him to come home. Call Kyra. She'll answer if you call. Just call and tell Renaldo to bring him back. Now! Please..."
"Shut up," Mirabella said. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. Catalina stuttered to silence. Mirabella put her fingers to her temples and massaged. "You and Marietta have been keeping this from me? And then you turn to Armando? Armando of all people?"
"What was I supposed to do?"
"I don’t know Catalina!” Mirabella stood. “You were born into this family. You were raised by these men. You tell me. What were you supposed to do?”
“If I had told Giovanni he would have killed Lorenzo.”
“And what will happen to Lorenzo now? Because you can believe that game you played with Armando didn’t spare his life. Giovanni will find out. And he will find out that you knew.”
“No! No! No please!”
“Do you understand what has happened? Do you? Oh Christ," Mirabella panted. She struggled to catch her breath. Mirabella's eyes stretched. She thought of Giovanni and the call they received in America. The nights he's slipped out to meetings without Lorenzo and Dominic. His secrecy. "He knows," Mirabella mumbled.
"Domi? I didn’t get a chance to explain it to him."
"No. Not Domi. Giovanni. This is why we came home. Why he left us at the airport. He knows."
"About what? Me and Armando?"
"Damn it, Catalina! He knows about Lorenzo. Where is Lo? I have to find Giovanni." Mirabella went to the door.
"Wait! I need you to call Kyra; I need you to bring Domi home," Catalina said. She went after her. She stopped Mirabella from leaving. "If Giovanni finds out about Domi and me, it'll destroy us for good. He won't forgive this. He won't."
"I can't worry about that now. I have to find my husband and keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life."
***
When the car came to a stop, he opened his eyes. During the journey, he and Umberto traveled in silence as Giovanni played Lorenzo's confession over and over again from the cassette recorder. He didn't even realize he had shed a tear until he touched his cheek and felt the wetness on his skin.
He felt lost.
"Boss, do you want to go inside?" Umberto asked.
"villa Rosso," he said. He opened the car door and stepped out into the night. There were people everywhere. Some worked for him. Others were family. Many rushed him to get five minutes of his time. Umberto shoved them away when they got too close. A man should be able to find solace in his home. He couldn't stomach a conversation or even a smile. He needed silence and space.
"Boss? Lorenzo isn't here," Umberto said when he caught up with him. "Just asked the men. They never arrived."
Giovanni wasn’t surprised. He walked to his villa to the back of Melanzana and his family fell back. Everyone knew they could not follow. He entered the darkness of villa Rosso unaware of anything and anyone.
"Giovanni?" a soft voice spoke.
He paused. He looked to his left. His wife sat on the sofa. She stared at him in the darkness.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Waiting for you," she said.
"Not tonight. Go back up to the kids. I'll see you tomorrow. He went in his office. He tossed the cassette player to his desk and found a case of tapes waiting. He frowned. Lorenzo name was scribbled over each. Were there more tapes to listen too? He shook his head and went to his liquor cabinet. Giovanni didn't bother to pour a glass. He opened the first bottle of scotch and drank from the bottle.
"So, you're drinking again?" Mirabella asked.
He set the bottle down and looked at her.
"Is he alive?" she asked.
"What did you ask me?"
"Is he alive?"
"Who, Bella?"
She crossed her arms. Not in a defensive move. It was as if she felt the coldness in the room emanating from him.
"Who, Bella?" he shouted.
"Lorenzo. Is he alive?" she asked.
"You knew?" he asked.
"No. No sweetheart, I swear I didn’t. I walk around this family with blinders on. Remember? You put them over my eyes. You put them over my ears. You keep me in the dark to protect you. Not me. Because you know, in your heart you know Gio, I'm your conscience."
"Leave."
"I walk through life pretending the bad doesn't happen because it safe. But Kei taught me that I can't pretend anymore. I won't. I didn't know what Lorenzo did. I couldn't conceive it," she said, and her voice broke with emotion. "But I know now. And I know you're hurting. The worst possible pain since the day you lost your father."
He picked up the bottle and walked over to the sofa.
"Aren't you going to ask me how I know? Aren't you?"
He ignored her.
"You have this family terrified of you. Your sister is willing to do anything to protect you. Your cousin killing people to keep you from knowing. My sister, hiding and scheming to protect his secret. When they simply should be able to come to you and confess." She blew out a deep breath. Her hands trembled. In fact, she felt like all of her was shaking and she was probably was. "We have a good life. Don't we? If nothing about the past has taught us anything, it has taught us that much. You have all the power Giovanni, and it's a big responsibility. We love you. Have mercy. Please, Gio. Forgive him." She went to her knees. Giovanni frowned. She was on bended knee before him. "Forgive him, for my sister, for the baby, she carries, for yourself. If you do anything out of revenge or hate, you will regret it. Please."
"He killed my father."
"But Gio if you do this..."
"Then I'm the monster? Is that right, Bella? You get on your knees to beg for his life. What about my life? What about who I have become, the things I've done because of my cousin. The people who have died. What about Fabiana? You remember that bomb? Do you? And our daughter, the man that chased you into hiding and kept us apart for years. Who fault was that? And your kidnapping. Would Kei have ever injected you with poison that has turned your brain into scrambled eggs? Raped you?"
“Giovanni, stop. He didn’t rape me. We don’t know if he did.”
"I know he did. And
I kept that from you Bella. But you don't blinders anymore. You want to sit in the shit of my life and see it all. Well here it is Bella. Kei raped you. More than once."
Mirabella broke down in tears. Giovanni drank from the bottle and watched her. He felt his soul turning black. He felt so much hatred and rage he couldn't summon enough compassion to spare his wife. And that scared him. Deeply.
“When am I first for you? When does my pain mean more than theirs? Where is your fucking loyalty as my wife!"
"That's not what I meant." She wept. "I only wanted."
"To spare them. To convince me that the only way I can be the man you love is to be the man who would forgive anything for you."
"For yourself Gio. Please." She got up. “I’m not choosing them. I’m choosing you.”
"Stai zitto!" he slammed the scotch bottle down on the coffee table. It shattered at the bottom and spoiled everywhere. She feared there was a cut to his hand. "It is done. If he isn't already dead, he will be. And don't you ever come to me on bended knee for the man who put the knife in my back and a rapist in your life. The man who made me a monster because I couldn't stand the thought of not having you. The man who made me miss my lucciola's birth. The man who has laughed at me all this time knowing he killed our Patri. Don' you ever come to me on bended knee again!"
Mirabella didn't know how to respond. She'd never seen him that angry before. He scared her. She wiped her tears and nodded she understood. He dismissed her and went to the chair in the room and sat down.
"Be careful how far you go, Giovanni. Some things you can never come back from. Ask me how I know.” She turned and left him. And it hurt. She never left him when he was in pain. But there was a force field of anger around him now. Tonight wasn’t the night to reach her husband. Tonight was the night they all should pray. Once she walked out of his office and closed his door, she lost all her poise and dignity. She dropped her head back against the wood and cried. For him. She was terrified.
Giovanni got up from behind the desk. He began to pace the floor. Flashbacks of all of his failures and mistakes hit him like lightening bolts. He kicked the coffee table. It tossed over flat with the table legs pointed upward. Keeping the grief at bay since the moment he heard Lorenzo’s confession had been a losing battle. He dropped his face in his hands and groaned so loudly and so long all the air was depleted from his lungs. Everything between him and Lorenzo had burned down to smoke and ash. The truth clawed and snapped its jagged jaws at him like a wild beast pinning him down and preventing his escape. He had to accept it. The pain and suffering was only the beginning. Every dumb, deadly mistake he made because of his cousin returned with unrelenting force.
Portici, Italy
September 12, 1979
“Gio? Gio!”
“I hear you, Patri. I do. But Madre...”
“Your mother is a good woman.” His father slumped back. They occupied a booth reserved for bosses of la Camorra. His dad’s back was to the door. It didn’t matter. There were enough guns in the ristorante loyal to the Battaglia clan that not even the Carabinieri dared to cross the line.
“She wants the best for you. And I gave her that by letting you go to America. To be a lawyer. But that lesson is for Domi. I need you here. Home.”
Giovanni cut his gaze over to his cousin. Lorenzo sat in the booth staring straight ahead. The swelling to his face from the beating Patri put on him hadn’t healed. Dominic had told him the story. Lorenzo wanted in the drug business and had started making deals in the triangle. He dragged the Calderones into the business without approval. When Flavio learned of this, he was the first to tell Patri. The old man had beat him up pretty bad. Since then the rage in his cousin could be felt if not spoken. But no one went against Patri.
“I’m home now. I can do school at a later time.”
“No more school!” Patri slammed his fist down. “If I have to explain it to your mother I will. We leave for Sicily in the morning. I want to see Marsuvio, and his father will see us.”
“Why?” Giovanni asked.
Patri smiled. “It’s a surprise.”
The waitress returned with the bill for the meal. Giovanni paid for it. His father drank down the last of the whiskey he should not have with his bronchitis, and eased out of the booth. Several of his father’s men stood from their tables and started toward the door.
“You know you will never be him,” Lorenzo said. It was the first time his cousin spoke to him since he arrived. “You can pretend to be, but you’ll never be him.”
“Oh yeah? Who says I want to be him?” Giovanni chuckled.
“He says it. He thinks it. He beats on me when you are in school because he wants you. He thinks he can make you into him. But you’ll never be him. Do you want to know why?” Lorenzo asked.
Giovanni sighed. “He beats on you because you keep fucking up. I heard about the drug dealing. You bring this on yourself.”
Lorenzo slammed his fist down on the table. “Vaffanculo!” He removed his sunglasses as the waitress returned with Giovanni’s change. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and the other was red and puffy. “The reason you will never be him is because you’re better than him, Gio. You’re better than me. We all see it. You should get up, walk away, and never look back. Don’t go to Sicily. Go back to America and start a life. Forget about us. Leave this shit behind you.”
“So you can take over? Is that it, cousin? So you can be Patri?”
“You don’t get it. This ends in blood. Blood. Yours and mine. La dolce vita? There’s nothing good here any longer. It’s a lie. Run, walk away, what the fuck ever it takes, just go. Before it’s too late.”
Gunshots rang out. Giovanni and Lorenzo shot out of their seats as if blasted from a cannon. They both ran for the door. The shooters sped away before they were outside of the ristorante. Giovanni looked around to see two of his father’s men dead. And a woman screaming holding a young child. He stepped around the car. His father was face down. Blood. There was lots of blood.
“Nooooo! Aiutatemi! Aiutatemi! Get help! Get help damn it!” Giovanni turned him over. Patri spit up blood, but his eyes were wide and alert.
“I don’t feel anything,” Patri said and coughed up more blood with a wry smile.
“Hang on. Hang on Patri. Help is on the way!” Giovanni held his bleeding father in his arms. Lorenzo stared on in shock. Giovanni could feel his father weakening. He held him even tighter. “Don’t die. Don’t die!”
Present -
“I’m here, baby, I’m here,” Mirabella said. “I’m so sorry.”
At some point, she’d returned to the office. His wife pulled him into her arms and held him to the best of her abilities. In her arms, the pain ebbed and flowed. He could barely steady his breathing to tell her to leave. He didn’t want her to see him in this state.
“I was wrong, baby. You’re my priority. Always. Forgive me,” she said. "I'm your Donna. I am. I swear it."
He let her hold him. And then he pushed her away. “Lasciami in pace—leave me alone. Go.”
She nodded sadly. She tried to kiss him, but he pushed up off the sofa and walked back over to the bar. The glass of the latest bottle crunched under his feet. Mirabella sighed. She put her hands on her face. He found another bottle and opened it. He drank down a long numbing swallow. “Bella I...” he turned and found her gone. The door was open. He heard the front door close. She was gone. He took another long drink that incinerated the delicate lining of his throat. He inhaled and exhaled—the pain began to ease.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Puttana
Sorrento, Italy
Marietta sat in the dark. She couldn’t cry. She did nothing but worry. The long wait drained all the energy she had left inside of her. After an hour of sitting in the same spot, she had to get up and move. She paced the floor with her hand to her belly. She didn’t turn on a light. She brought out two guns to keep with her at all times.
Where was he?
Why was he ta
king so long?
And then a car drove up. The headlights sliced across the window and severed the darkness. Marietta picked up a gun. She didn’t believe for one minute that Giovanni couldn’t find them. Italy was small. Sorrento was even smaller. And everyone knew everyone here.
The car door opened and closed. Marietta held the gun out in front of her. She waited. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of keys unlocking the door. A deep sigh of relief escaped her. The door opened, and Lorenzo walked in.
“Where have you been? I’m terrified!”
“I had to see Carlo.”
“Will he help us? Talk to Gio?”
“No. I just had to see him. Say goodbye.”
“Lo, no, we can’t leave. It’s not safe.”
“We have to, Marie. Soon. Right now, you need to rest.”
“Are we safe here? Can’t they find us?”
“They can’t. Let’s go to bed.”
“Bed? You want to sleep?”
“What else can I do? I need to give Giovanni a chance to cool off. I need to find out what his next move is. Carlo might tell me. He might not. But there is nothing more to do tonight.”
Marietta shook her head. “There is something we can do. Let me go home. Let me talk to Mirabella and get her to talk to Giovanni.”
“That’s not going to work” Lorenzo sighed.
“She’s probably with him right now calming him down. Lo, Catalina told me how she was with Giovanni after Domi killed Franco. Saved Domi’s life.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Of course, it is...”
“It’s not! Patri died in front of us. Gunned down in the streets because of me.” Lorenzo slapped his chest. His eyes glistened with tears. “I saw it. Giovanni saw it. We live with it. There is no talking our way out of him killing me.”
