by S. W. Frank
“Take more than one,” she leapt out of bed, the silk robe parted and he had the most glorious view of her breasts and supple curves. She knelt in front of him, holding him with imploring eyes, “I love you Matteo. I am pregnant. We are having a baby who will need her father.”
Matteo’s chest pound with joy and he leaned forward to kiss her full lips. Ah, she taste so sweet and the news was certain to become a celebration. He was the only son out of six girls and the youngest. His mother would shout the news throughout Italy. Ah, he could hear the festive clinking of champagne glasses and his father’s prideful boast. “We have potent sperm, Matteo. We Peglesi’s, eh?” Then he’d say, “Let’s pray this is a boy and not one more girl.”
Yes, he was ecstatic at this news and cupped her oval face, wondering how the heavens dropped this angel in his bed. “I will be home, soon. This is what we are Amelda, we cannot walk with fear. Capisce?”
“At least tell me where you are to meet.”
Ah, his lovely persistent wife. He denied her nothing and gave her the truth. “Le Portobello near the gardens.”
Le Portobello was a restaurant owned by a relative of Benaducci. She didn’t like this. Matteo was walking into a trap!
He brought her to his lap, rubbed her belly then placed a kiss on her navel, “I will see you two shortly.” He kissed her open mouth before she could protest then stood with her, “Ciao, mia moglie bella.”
She watched him leave and her heart beat rapidly. Amelda dashed to retrieve her cellular and located Geovonna’s number in the contact list. She touched the screen and a few buzzes later Geovonna’s tired voice answered, “Buongiorno.”
“Sveglia ora!”
“Why must I wake Amelda?”
“This is where you earn your place. You are near Le Portobello, tell your father Matteo is walking into an ambush. Benaducci’s son has summoned him to a meeting.”
“My father is away. Tell Matteo not to go.”
“You cow, Matteo will not listen. He is a man with a hard head.”
“Aye, true.”
“Take your guards Geovonna; do not let my husband die at Benaducci’s hands. I will be on my way. Use your charms to stall, do whatever tricks you have between your legs and I will be indebted to you.”
Geovonna’s voice increased an octave. The sleep eradicated. “I will leave now.”
****
Antony Benaducci smiled, his hawk eyes scrutinizing the rich Italian playboy as he entered the restaurant with only one man. He admired Matteo’s chutzpah for coming. He wondered if the man had anything to do with his brother’s disappearance. The only way to find out was to pummel the handsome face until the perfect teeth flew out of his mouth along with the truth. He always detested Matteo Peglesi. He was arrogant and condescending. Their business relations brought more money to Antony’s pockets, and he would have let the man live to further expand his wealth, yet family obligations usurped any quest for riches. Matteo was married to Giuseppe’s attractive sister who had not given Antony the time of day. She could not handle a real man and preferred the pretty boy instead. Whatever, the reason, his dislike for Matteo went deep. Men with perfect features and ease with women irked him. They believed their charms also worked on real men; it didn’t. In business he could overlook these prejudices, today he refused to ignore it.
“Buongiorno Antony, come stai?”
Antony marveled at Matteo’s cool composure. Other men may have avoided the meet and those who did not may have exhibited anxiety. Yet, he forgot, Matteo was not an ordinary man. His father was Don Peglesi, a formidable mafia lord with prosperous businesses across the globe, and becoming richer each month in part to the American son of Luzo Palazzo. Once, they were all eradicated, many others will have access to the global wealth. “Non cosi, bene. It is difficult to be in good spirits when Roberto has yet to be found.” He waved Matteo to the empty chair in front of him and leaned across the table, “Have you heard anything, has Giuseppe learned news?”
“I have yet to hear anything concerning your brother Antony, and I cannot speak for Giuseppe, since he is out of town and I haven’t spoken to him in some time.”
“Ah, this madness. If Roberto were alive he would have called. I believe he’s gone. My father believes the same. My mother grieves because she suspects it as well. Who would believe this is how it would end, the not knowing?”
They were the only patrons in the restaurant. It was morning and a lack of customers wasn’t anything unusual. Matteo had many meetings in places such as these, but here he could feel a tension. It exuded from Antony in his rigid posture, the forced smile which could not hide the sneer on his lips. These were obvious signs to an intuitive man. His wife Amelda was astute, yet she underestimated her husband’s shrewdness. Of course, he knew this was an ambush. What fool would not? He was playing the fool to allow Antony to divulge his intent. Matteo wanted to know one thing, “What of your other friends, what have they uncovered?”
“The Lionello’s, Messina, Tampicozi and Nicolini’s have yet to find anything. Unfortunately, all fingers point to Giuseppe.”
This was the cue, the moment gunfire erupted and blood began to splatter the table. The restaurant became a box filled with projectiles. They sliced across the air, striking anything flesh, ripping chunks of it from anything breathing. Matteo’s bullet began it all and it’s first victim, lie slumped on the floor, part of Antony’s brain spurting like a children’s water fountain. His man continued to mow down the figures emerging from the kitchen until a bullet struck him and he toppled with the Uzi to the floor.
Matteo slapped in a fresh clip, used the chaos and fired catching one man a few tables away in the chest. He stayed low, crouched behind a privacy wall about four feet high, moving back toward the door. His objective was to secure the Uzi, but before he got another step, more men rushed from the kitchen, scattering around tables as their semi-automatics blew smoke with each shot. The last thing he expected was to hear gunfire from the doorway. He thought it was the end and this once wished he brought more men. Matteo shrugged mentally, he’d take bodies with him to the hereafter and continue this conflict in Hades.
He reached for the Beretta tucked at his waist and with weapons in each hand he spun around to return fire and thank the saints he was a decent shot or he might have unleashed a barrage of bullets on friends. Dressed in black, racing in his direction from a crouched position with a quartet of men giving cover fire was his wife’s nemesis, Geovonna Calbrese. She made it to where he was pinned behind the low wall and slid the Uzi across the floor to him, “Buongiorno Matteo, next time listen to your wife, capisci?”
He smirked, “Capisco.” He dropped the pistols, took possession of the larger weapon which was all the firepower he needed and picked through the approaching figures, stopping their progression with a succession of bullets. The impact from the projectiles resulted in jerking torsos and sent a rain of red as bodies smashed into tables and others careening to the floor. The combined assault from the submachine gun and the shots from Geovonna and her crew silenced the entire restaurant. Matteo listened. His eyes scanned the wreckage for movement and when he was totally certain they were clear, gathered up his weapons and instructed the guys to retrieve his fallen lieutenant.
He would thank his wife for the intervention with a proper romp in bed then scold her for putting the Calbrese girl in danger. He scowled. Benaducci would now retaliate for certain. Roberto’s disappearance was one thing, and a complete hit on another son in broad daylight by Matteo was another.
Despite the subsequent calm; a mob war had begun.
CHAPTER NINE
Giuseppe and Shanda finally arrived after two o’clock. Alfonzo had to send Lou to get his cousins’ ass out of bed. The men were assembled and ready to go since noon and seeing the couple emerge from the car, kissing and holding on to each other like it was the morning after prom was nauseating. They had work to do, and Giuseppe was letting his dick interfere with business.
“Hey, do you think you can detach long enough to get your shit so we can go?” Alfonzo shout across the distance. The men were ready to escort them to the airstrip and all this lovey-dovey crap only delayed their departure. Perhaps, Giuseppe forgot, there was a kidnapped boy out there and a deadline to keep.
“Uno minuti, let her get her things. She’s flying to New York with us.” Giuseppe informed Alfonzo as Shanda dart inside the house to fetch her suitcase.
“What’s wrong with you, we don’t have time for this shit!” Nico said from where he stood with his son and Ari discussing strategy.
Giuseppe gave him the finger, “Sit on this.”
Nico marched over to the irritating man, “Do you want me to break that finger Geo?”
Giuseppe’s henchmen moved close to their boss, hands going to their waists to deter Nico from following through on the threat. Giuseppe mocked him, “And it will be your funeral, cugino.”
Nico didn’t give a shit about his cousin’s dogs. Giuseppe had spiraled out of control. If he couldn’t check the attitude, Nico intended to give him a hand. “Not before I blow a hole in that big mouth of yours, cazzo.”
“Stop it, Geo, this is serious!” Selange chastised from her husband’s side.
Giuseppe waved a dismissive hand, “Buongiorno Forest Gump. Take off running again.”
It was Alfonzo who spoke and put Giuseppe firmly in his place. The cold eyes exhibited impatience with Giuseppe’s taunts, “You have one more time to disrespect her Geo. Cross the line again and I’ll break more than a motherfucking finger. Get your hung-over whoring ass in the car, primo. We’re ready to go; we’re not waiting for your, chica!”
Not one of Giuseppe’s men took an aggressive stance. Alfonzo was Capo de tutti here, and any who dare draw their weapon against him would get executed on the spot.
Giuseppe found his cousin amusing. Only he could dare get away with such threats, even in jest. This is how he and Alfonzo were, except Alfonzo was not joking. He meant to hurt the man. He would not tolerate anyone’s disrespectful speech or actions toward Selange.
Giuseppe gave Alfonzo the finger, “I have a finger for you, too little cousin.”
Alfonzo scoffed then Giuseppe and he laughed. They’re camaraderie a display of familial affection. Then, similar to the second part in an act, Shanda emerged from the house on cue and hurried with her luggage toward them. She had an excited energy in her step and was completely oblivious to any drama unfolding.
The animated woman dashed over to Selange and gave her a hug. She whispered in her friend’s ear, “Girl, we must talk. He rocked my world and then some. I’ll call you later.” Shanda let go of Selange’s arm and scurried to her lover.
Alfonzo scoffed, “Ves esto?”
Selange nodded, “Yeah, I do see. Honey, I can’t believe my eyes.”
After a second, Alfonzo recovered from the shock and put his arms around Selange, “Ven aquí, dame un beso.” They exchanged an abbreviated ardent kiss. When he released her there was tenderness in his gaze, “I love you, mi corazón es tuyo. I’ll see you and the kids soon.”
“Promise.”
“Promise.” He said as he reluctantly released her then put a fist to his heart for emphasis. He tilt his chin to Crazy Nicky and gave an order, “Keep this place secure. Nobody’s to come in or out while I’m gone.”
Crazy Nicky nodded, “You got it, boss.”
Giuseppe rolled down the back window and blew Selange a kiss, “Ciao, other half of my cugino. No more running you might fall.”
Giuseppe laughed and leaned back in the seat. Selange snarled, “Oh shut-up Geo!”
****
The emergency meeting in the hills of Calabria brought many of the most powerful families in Europe to the ancient estate. There were lines of cars on the grounds of the huge residence, several belonging to the local polizei. Friends, loyal compatriots and those who prospered from Sergio Giacanti’s generosity were all in attendance. These were sons and grandsons of those his father assisted during the years of discourse with Mussolini and wars. He’d helped save their father’s and grandfather’s farms, without any monetary return. His unselfish acts were a testament of his love of his fellow Calabrians and these were the descendants of those villagers. The family’s names were written in the Giacanti book and signatures in blood served as proof of their unwritten obligation.
The walls surrounding the estate were fortified with machine gun toting men ordered to shoot anyone who approached the private estate on sight. Everyone in attendance came by special invite. The group was over one hundred strong in the basement of the old Giacanti home. The spacious confines were made to hold more and in the past, they held safe frightened refugees and conspirators. These walls heard many heated discussions and also withstood the bloody horror of a family’s death, only to see its rebirth over the years.
Alberti called this unusual meeting. He had no choice. Benaducci’s sons and allies from Italy and Russia were aligned to wage war. He had to ensure the fidelity of these men and here is where the blood truth must be revealed.
There were many here enquiring of Giuseppe’s where-a-bouts, reluctant to take orders from his Consigliere. Alberti decided it was the perfect hour to reveal his trump hand and disclose the secret of his heritage known only to a few. Wax and Matteo stood at his side. The accompaniment of bodyguards formed a semi-circle around them, ensuring the protection of the elder man.
Alberti addressed the assembly, “It is no coincidence we have met here in the home of Sergio Giacanti. It is an appropriate setting to highlight what happens when men and greed run amok. Families and death are the outcome. You ask about Giuseppe. I will tell you he is handling another urgent matter abroad, sanctioned by me.”
The men mumbled, not understanding. Giuseppe was Capo de tutti, an advisor does not sanction anything, he may counsel the Boss but holds no real power unless he ascends to the seat of it. Alberti saw their confusion and brought clarity to his words. “I am the son of Sergio Giacanti. My real name is Giuseppe Giacanti. Giuseppe Dichenzo is my nephew and so is the American Alfonzo Diaz.”
The room went silent.
Alberti scanned the many faces. Each one he knew by name. They drank, ate, gambled and discussed business. Each one’s family owed a debt to the late Sergio Giacanti and today the debt must be paid. “There is no harm to come to my nephews and my family. You are to hold this disclosure in deep confidence. It is time to prove your loyalty and repay what my father has generously given.” He ran down the names of the families to target and the Russians coming now into Italy. “I need men around the Dichenzo home at all times until this confrontation is resolved and several more at the Peglesi’s.”
“Don Luca, what about the American, Alfonzo. I hear there’s a ten million dollar contract which has surfaced on his head.”
Alberti frowned. His eyes showed no sign of his alarm. Yet, his pulse raced at the news. “Who dared to issue the order?”
“A Russian, Fedrik Sidorov.”
Alberti knew the name. The degenerate dabbled in the skin trade, smuggling underage girls to use in his prostitution rings. His associate tried setting up shop here not long ago and he sent Nico to take him out as a message to the other low-lives. These are the kind of men the Benaducci’s were acquainted with. This is how they sought to make their money when there were many other avenues of revenue. Dumb bastards!
Alberti did not regret putting a slug in Fabio. He rather enjoyed killing the overconfident man. Of course, if there were a contract on his nephew, Fedrik was only the front man to steer suspicion away from the Benaducci’s. They resented Alfonzo and sought to eliminate him for control of prostitution and gambling on the east coast where Benaducci’s extended family hailed. Alfonzo’s allies controlled this turf and ousting Alfonzo allowed them free reign without oversight. None of Alfonzo’s associates used under-age girls and any who did, well they weren’t alive or acquaintances let’s just say.
Fabio and his sons were wagi
ng war on both shores and with the Russians involved they made certain Giuseppe would have his hands full. The clever bastard!
Alberti could not go the United States during this crisis in Italy and yet the urgency to warn Alfonzo trumped everything else.
He would contact the house and check on the women then call Alfonzo to ensure all was well. This he would do shortly, currently, they had an infestation problem that required a massive extermination before it became a major contamination. Today they would hit the families associated with the Benaducci’s and anyone else who got in their way.
CHAPTER TEN
Geovonna sipped leisurely from the fluted glass filled with wine, smiling as she listened to Amelda’s heartfelt grazie. Secretly, she felt ecstatic to have rescued Matteo. When Giuseppe returned from the U.S and learned how brave she’d been, he would come to thank her personally. She could barely contain her excitement at the prospect. Giuseppe’s face and masculine lips on her body was a far greater thank you than Amelda’s silly chatter. Yes, thinking of Giuseppe brought such glee, it was hard concentrating on his sister’s monotone words.
“Geovonna, when is your father returning?”
“Tonight, I suppose, why?”
“Alberti has informed Matteo the Benaducci’s are working with the Russians. Advise your father to increase his protection.”
Geovonna laughed at this, “Me, advise my father, is the bambini you carry dulling your brain?”
“Listen you-”
Geovonna wagged a French manicured finger in the air at her future sister-in-law, “Ah-ah-ah Amelda, you swore to play nice.”
Amelda hated to admit it but the annoying woman was right. Despite her aversion to working in consort with Geovonna, she put aside her disdain for the welfare of the family. “I am going to my mother’s, come with me until your father returns. It is not safe for you to be here with such limited protection.”
