by Sienna Mynx
“Go on.”
James cleared his throat. “She sang right there in the empty club. Sang her head off, I heard later from one of my boys. A few people who worked for Manny’s gathered and she didn’t stop. It wasn’t long before one of the Italians heard her. Instead of throwing her out the door, he went in the back room and got Manny Cigars. They called him that because he shot a man once for taking a cigar out of his private cedar box without asking. He was the only Sicilian in the mix. He came straight off the boat. We called his kind ‘zips’. Sicilians were worse than the Italians. They were cold-blooded, prejudiced motherfuckers that were dirt poor but still felt superior to any one in the business. They created the mafia and let the Italian boys know. Manny Cigars spoke mostly in Italian, except when it came to American curse words. Manny had a thing for cursing you out in English. I heard he arrived from Sicily to get out of some Mafia war or something and set up business with Frankie Dimes and Boss Pete. Mean fucker. Silent, and deadly, is what we would say. Manny would be the bastard who walked up on a father and a sleeping baby, put a knife in him and the child if it got in the way of his strike. He’d slit your throat, and then step over your body to sit down to eat the dinner you left on the table. Everybody was afraid of Manny.”
“Including you?”
James gave a single nod. “He opened the club for the Italians. Funny though, shortly after it opened they turned around and signed it right back over to him. It was a strange time with Italians and Sicilians mixing it up regularly. Like they were one. But then they were fighting and gunning each other down in the streets of Sicily and Italy, I hear.”
Dominic frowned at the history lesson, trying to connect the dots. James continued, “When Lisa was singing, they went and got Manny. The wrong fucking bastard to ever lay eyes on my sweet chocolate baby.”
“What happened when Manny saw her?”
“I don’t know exactly. When I arrived, he had her sitting at a table with him alone. That’s how I found them. I confronted the motherfucker. Yelled at her. Scared her to death. Not Manny though. I’ll never forget the amused look he gave me. He smiled. Said some stupid shit in Italian and called off his boys from cracking my skull, for the disrespect. I think he lied to her. Said he could make her a star. Because after that meeting with him, she asked me over and over again if I thought she could be. I did lose it because of jealousy, but Lisa was special, and I had to protect her. You have to understand, she was young, but so beautiful. She had dark skin, the kind to make you think of an African princess or something. And the curvy body of a grown woman. Nothing she wore, no matter how modest, could hide how fine she was. And her skin! Man, I’m telling you it made her flawless. You just had to see Lisa.” James inhaled. “She was beautiful. And she had a lot of hair. It was thick and curly. She wore it in these puffs and fros that reminded me of a black halo.” He chuckled. “But cute on her. It was her style. My sweet chocolate baby was beautiful, inside and out. White and black men stopped and checked for baby girl when she entered a room. She never noticed those looks. But I did. I always did. And that day, I saw Manny had that look too.”
“So Manny pulled her in?” Dominic guessed. He knew how things went down when a man took an interest in a woman, in their world. Typically, a man in the organization would be afforded respect by the others; and no matter how appetizing their wife or girlfriend was, the oath of the Mafia dictated that you not make a move on her. But James wasn’t even a cugine—a solider in training to be a capo. He was nothing more than an associate—a black one. Lisa was fair game.
“I was told to bring her back. That she had a job. I had no choice. Lisa sang for the club. Initially. Manny wouldn’t be satisfied until she did more. Cornered her and tried to force himself on her. Lisa ran off, but she told me what he did. I walked in there and told Manny that he would have to put a bullet in me, because if he ever touched her again, I’d put one in him. Everyone thought I’d lost my mind. Manny however, said he was impressed. Liked my nuts. Said he’d respect my woman and that was the last time she sang for the club. I should have taken her back to her people in Virginia right then and there. I protected her from Manny, and from me. But I was weak and stupid enough to think the fucking Sicilian could be handled. He sweetened the pot by lining my pockets with good jobs. Ones the Italian boys did. Even sent Lisa a few expensive gifts, as an apology.”
Dominic thought of the trafficking of women that the Camorra did with the Russians and Albanians. It turned his stomach. He was glad Giovanni ended that part of their business when he learned of how young the women were becoming.
“I have a question, James,” Dominic asked. “Did you know the Sicilian’s real name? His Sicilian name?”
James nodded. “Marsuvio Mancini. We called him Manny.”
Dominic’s chest tightened at the news. He blinked, dumbfounded. “That’s not possible,” he said.
“What? What’s not possible?”
“Manny Cigars. He couldn’t be Mancini.”
“Fuck you! It is him! I know the fucker. Marsuvio Mancini is his fucking name!”
Dominic rubbed his brow, trying to make sense of it all.
“That fucking Sicilian stuck me in here to steal my baby from me. Set me up to take a job that sent me upstate. Burned down those fucking Italians and killed a few cops, they were on the take too. Some Mafia bullshit, I got caught up in the mix. The fucking dagos here told me not to finger him for the fire. I didn’t. I’m no fucking snitch. Instead, I broke three of their fucking necks for sport. Fuck you, zip. Fuck you and him! Guard!” James stood.
“Wait, we aren’t done.” Dominic panicked.
“Suck my dick you dirty dago! I ain’t talking about this shit no more. Tell her daughter I’m sorry. But if she got Manny’s blood in her, she’s part- white man devil and I’m glad Lisa died to never lay eyes on her. So fuck you all for what you did to Lisa. Fuck you!” he said, turning and shuffling toward the door. Dominic dropped back in the chair. The door opened and closed. James Walker was gone.
*****
“You’ve been in here for awhile. Mind if I check in?” Theodore asked.
Catalina glanced up from her reading. She smiled her agreement and then lowered her eyes to the project plans of Carole. They consisted of design ideas, color themes for daywear, swimwear, and evening wear. All of it was fascinating.
“I see you were able to get your hands on Carole’s designs?”
“Technically, they belong to Mira. Right?” Catalina asked.
“Technically,” Theodore chuckled. He turned and noticed two boxes with photos on the floor. “What’s this?” He lifted the box by the flap and read the word ‘trash’ on the side. “You’re throwing away Kei’s photos?”
“Of course,” Catalina said.
“May I ask why?”
Catalina abandoned her work and sat upright. She wanted to put everything to memory before she called Mira. But Mr. Tate was insistent on chatting her up. “Mira wouldn’t want those photos. My brother would never allow them in the house. They are trash! And those.” She pointed at the other box. “Those are the treasures Mira left behind. I’m sending them back to Italy. We all miss Fabiana.”
“I see. Well, you have it under control. I wanted to offer to take you to a late lunch. It’s your first day at work and you haven’t eaten.”
“No thanks.” Catalina flipped the ledger and scanned the next page.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t like me, Catalina.” Theodore replied.
“Huh?” She looked up. “What did you say?”
Theodore rose. He leaned forward on the desk. “Lunch. Let’s go. You have to eat. Think of it as a chance to pick my brain for anything you want to know. Besides, I miss Mira. You are the closest I’ve been to her since she disappeared. I want to hear more of her life.”
Catalina did not eat or entertain men outside of Dominic. It was disrespectful. However, this was work. Only work. “I guess it will be okay.”
“I kn
ow a great Chinese restaurant. You haven’t eaten in New York until you’ve had Chinese. Come on.”
She rose and grabbed her coat and purse. Theodore headed for the door and she followed. Lunch sounded like a great idea.
*****
Dominic waited. He itched to leave and get to a phone. Instead, he had to wait for his next meeting. And the entire time, he played back every detail of Melissa Ellison’s life, as told by James. If Mancini was here, and part owner of the club then it would mean he was likely, Mira’s father. It would explain the Del Stavio bracelet, and the cover-up. And another connection surfaced from the recesses of his mind. When Mira and Fabiana arrived in Napoli, they opened business in a building leased to Mancini by Tomosino. It infuriated Giovanni enough to send him out to demand payment from the ladies. This was how they met. His stomach clenched as the bitter truth sank in deeper.
The door buzzed and opened.
Dominic looked up to see Kei, Mira’s ex-lover enter. He was shackled by the wrists and feet. His head was shaved bald and a white gauze with medical tape covered his left eye. He glared at Dominic with his good eye. Kei walked over to the desk and sat down.
“You know who sent me,” Dominic said.
Kei said nothing in return.
“As you see, Giovanni has again shown mercy and spared your life. Here is what is expected in exchange. Attorneys will come as a courtesy, to have you sign over all rights to House of Mirabella’s. If you do so, then our business is concluded.”
Kei smirked. He said nothing.
“Another thing between us that must be clear. If you ever try to contact Mira or see her again, it will be considered an act of war. You are to rot in whatever hell they sentence you to, with no further thought of her.”
“You tell that coward of a boss that I am a patient man. I’ve already signed over the contracts with my attorneys. Mira has her business free and clear. It is the final act of love I will show her, and she will someday know it. I’ve also agreed to the extradition back to China. The Triad is my family now—that is why I am able to keep one eye in this prison instead of two. Something else I have to be thankful for.”
“Our business is done.” Dominic said, sitting back in his chair.
“Not quite,” Kei replied. “When I come for him, he will watch as I take and destroy everyone he loves. Starting with the bitch who sat back and let him carve out my heart and the last of the love I had for her.”
Dominic clenched his fist. “Watch your tongue, China man.”
“One day, year, I don’t care if it’s a fucking decade, I will settle all debts owed to me.”
“So, you’ve learned nothing?” Dominic said, eyeing the guards to calculate how much time it would take for him to snap the China man’s neck before they were on him.
“Oh, I’ve learned a lot. It’s Mira and her pretend gangster who have learned nothing. But they will. This, I vow. You have woken the dragon.” A sliver of a smile creased his mouth. He then said something in mandarin that Dominic couldn’t understand. However, the tone he used when he said the words were as lethal as the tension they now shared.
Dominic looked on with seething contempt. If the guards weren’t in the room, he’d show the bastard the meaning of respect.
“How is Little Rabbit? She has a birthday in a few weeks. Tell her Poppy has not forgotten her, she is still my love.” Kei rose and started away, but stopped under the arch of the door. He cast a look back at Dominic with his good eye. Not a word passed between the men but it was clear to them both, no matter where they sent Kei, the two of them would meet again.
It was a mistake to let this one live. He would have to warn Giovanni.
Chapter Twelve
Morte - Death
The smell of fresh coffee, baking bread, and cheese woke him. Lorenzo struggled with fatigue. He had spent a day travelling on the roads to Milan, then the night making love to Marietta. He felt hung over and bone tired. Still, the delicious aroma of breakfast forced his sagging lids to part. His nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply. Whatever the fuck it was, it smelled damned delicious. He sat up with a deep groan. “Marietta?”
He was alone in bed.
“Marietta!” he shouted.
No answer.
“Shit!” He grabbed his robe and put it on. Walking out of his room he went to the stairs and then down. As soon as he entered the open dining room, the fresh aroma of breakfast seized him. His stomach clenched. Lorenzo strolled into the kitchen and found her at the stove. She was removing what looked like cubes of bread baked with mozzarella and sliced tomatoes.
“Morning. Hungry?”
“What’s this?”
“It’s called breakfast, silly. Did I tell you how much I love this kitchen!” she grinned.
Lorenzo smiled. “A woman that cooks. After my heart, are we?”
“I think I already have it.” She shot him a challenge in her lovely smile. Lorenzo looked away, uncomfortably. Even if it were possible that he could love a woman again, he wouldn’t dare say the words aloud. His mother’s curse had driven every woman he cared about from his life. Fabiana was the last lesson he’d had in love. No, he’d make her his woman, keep her with him for now, but never love.
“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?” Marietta half-joked.
“No.” He leaned over to taste some of what she offered on the spoon. He chewed with a smile, and then swallowed and spoke. “I think we should let David think you are missing, gone…”
“Dead?” she finished.
Lorenzo paused over the word. Marietta shrugged her shoulders. “It’s what he wanted, for you to kill me. I’m sure he expects my body to wash up in Lake Como.”
He nodded, taking another bite. “I have a place in Bellagio. Well it belongs to my cousin now, but I have use of it. After this is over, I want to take you there.”
She glanced up. “Sounds nice. I’ve heard Bellagio is beautiful year round.”
Lorenzo continued. “I have a meeting this morning, and then business later. I’ll come back around lunch. Before tonight is over, the war between you and the Capriccios will be done.”
“About my father? The man who isn’t Capriccio? Will you get that answer for me as well?”
Lorenzo rose and walked around the table. He pulled her to him and she came willingly. He couldn’t believe she accepted the good and bad of him with such ease. Not many women would. And not many women would ask for the death of another the way this one did. It came from her easily, as if asking him to bring home a slab of meat from the butcher. Damn, she turned him on. He kissed her nose. “I’m a man of my word, Cara. You will see.”
“It’s hard to believe I’ve only known you for three days. It feels like we’ve known each other all my life.”
Admittedly, he had to agree. He kissed her again. She pushed him off. Quickly, she moved the pot of burning prosciutto off the gas flame. “It’s ruined!”
He chuckled. “I like it that way.”
Marietta shrugged. “Good, then this is yours. I’ll make me some more.”
The phone rang. Lorenzo walked across the kitchen and picked it up. “Pronto?”
“Santo has a problem. I sent a package through his business. He’ll be busy for the day with the carabinieri.”
“We don’t turn those fucks on our own people, Carlo!”
“How the hell else did you expect me to delay him? I’m leaving to head to Milan.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s time you clued me in on what the fuck is going on. Enough of the secrets.”
The phone line disconnected.
“Shit!” he slammed the phone back on the wall.
“What is it?”
“Let’s eat. I got to run out soon.”
*****
Mira entered first, but Eve shot around her legs running for the television room where her toys were left. When Mira glanced back at Giovanni, he gave her a tired smile. Mira wore the shirt she slept in, made love in, over her torn dres
s. Her shoes were in her hand. She needed a hot shower desperately. Rosetta came out of the television room, eating. “Hi! You’re back!”
Giovanni headed toward their room.
“Come to Mama, Eve.”
Her daughter did as she was told, bringing a doll with her. “I’m going to give her a bath and get her changed. Can you entertain her afterwards? Giovanni and I need to get some sleep.”
“But it’s almost eleven in the morning,” Rosetta frowned.
“I know. I’m tired. So is he,” she nodded in the direction of her parting husband.
“Then let me bathe Eve. The chef cooked so there is plenty to eat. You can heat up something for you and Gio.” Rosetta took Eve’s hand. Mira smiled. They ate a quick breakfast on the yacht so she wasn’t terribly hungry. When she entered the room, she paused. Giovanni hadn’t slept much out at sea, but now he was out cold on the bed, in his clothes. She walked over to him, removing his shoes from his feet. She went to the windows and drew the shutters shut to darken the room. And then she located the phone. She unplugged it from the wall. When she walked back out of the room, Rosetta was chasing Eve who was now bottomless and frisky.
“Rosetta.” Mira placed the phone on the lamp table. “For the next couple of hours we aren’t to be disturbed. Okay?”
“Okay.” Rosetta scooped Eve up, who was kicking and fighting her to be free. Mira winked. She turned and went back in and closed the door. Quickly shedding her clothes, she went to the bed and climbed on top. Giovanni immediately rolled over and dragged her to him. She snuggled against his warmth and returned to sleep.
*****
Silvio Negali greeted him at the door. Lorenzo ducked his head to walk in. At the table sat David Capriccio. On top of the table were two duffle bags filled with money. Giovanni’s money. David glanced up with a wary look. Lorenzo still wore the battle scars from the fight with Marietta three days ago. David tried to show no reaction but Lorenzo sensed his curiosity.
