by Frank, S. W.
***
The guards did not move in the way of the angry drunk man. They were aware who the man was and stood back as he rushed through the door, calling his wife’s name as Vincent and Domingo tried to talk him down.
Alfonzo was in a state of manic rage the minute they arrived in Italy and they did not know what set him off. On the plane he sat in a corner, drinking as everyone slept. Everyone except the two men, who saw murder in his eyes and knew trouble brewed. The family was placed in a different car under Vincent’s instruction and transported to the guest house. Whatever, transpired he did not want the children to witness. Alfonzo was out of control, rambling murderous threats geared toward Nico and his wife to the point Vincent removed his gun under force –but he could not restrain the powerful younger man without causing him injury and this he couldn’t do.
“Alfonzo, what’s going on in your head, primo?” Domingo asked, now highly concerned for the object of his cousin’s fury. Hearing Selange’s name being shouted brought a higher degree of anxiety because he lost control once and in the heat of the moment caused such pain to the one’s he loved, it would take a lifetime to repair. “Primo, calmarse, remember –walk away…cool down!”
Alfonzo rushed the stairs, liquor having no effect on his balance. All Vincent and Domingo could do was keep pace, try to hold him back before he reached Selange. They were at his side, grappling with him but he was agile and swift; avoiding their hold heading straight toward the woman whose brilliantly bright eyes suddenly died at the sight of him.
The music stopped.
“Why, goddammit…why?” He bellowed when she faced him.
He was moving, fast and unchecked until Vincent caught him and held him motionless. Vincent wondered what Nico or Selange had done to elicit such rage. Then his face contorted, hoping Nico hadn’t done the unthinkable.
Selange was frozen in place, standing alone. Her eyes were on Alfonzo. In the pair of sky blue’s she could tell…he found out…somehow he learned about her and Nico. What she did not expect were the bodies beginning to surround her in a protective shield. Even Alfonzo’s stepsisters were at her side in support. Her eyes were running silent tears and they stained her silk dress. She could not take her eyes from him because he was free of the men and charging until Sophie, Crystalia and Marcella closed rank.
“Let me through…dammit…I need to talk to my wife!”
“Talk, but this is as far as you go!” Sophie shot back.
He looked over their heads at his wife, her grief confirmation of what he suspected. “You lied to me…” He pound hard on his chest and roared. “What the fuck did I do to deserve this…goddammit…help me understand, why babe...what did I do to you?”
“Alfonzo I’m sorry…” she whined, “please…not here…not in front of everyone!”
“Here’s as good a place as any, you’ve been lying to me for months…I trusted you.” He snarled, “Fucking look at me, look at me!”
She was crying holding on to Adrianna, frightened by the fury displayed in his body language. She couldn’t talk to him; he was beyond irate and perhaps drunk. He wouldn’t understand because she wasn’t able to comprehend the reasons her heart splintered in two pieces. Maybe, she wasn’t whole when it did and too weak to prevent it.
Amelda hugged her as she sobbed and his rants boomed like the bass of a drum. “I’ll kill him…do you hear…he’s a dead man and I swear if you weren’t the mother of my children I’d...”
“You’d what?” A harsh voice asked through the tension filled stillness.
Her head lifted when she heard Nico’s voice. Nico moved at full speed right toward Alfonzo and his fist impacted across Alfonzo’s face and sent him crashing toward the women. Everyone shrieked and moved out of the way as Alfonzo scrambled to his feet. Alfonzo answered back and threw a kidney punch and an upper cut which Nico blocked then swung at Alfonzo and he ducked then tackled the larger man. Both men went crashing over tables. They were brawling from one side of the room to the other, denting the walls and at times it felt like an earthquake occurred. There was shouting, screams to stop them from every direction. Pandemonium ensued as her secret was broadcast to the world.
“I trusted you Nico and you slept with my wife you sonovabitch!”
***
Selange was escorted upstairs out of harm’s way by the women. Guards flowed past them, running, shouting in Italian for the women to go. Sophie directed Amelda to take charge of her and spun around in the opposite direction to go back. She could not let anything happen to Nico. He was her flesh and blood; in spite of his transgression she would not allow anyone to kill him.
Selange was hysterical, choking through sobs, wailing at herself for what was happening. She was inconsolable. She didn’t want their hands on her anymore, she didn’t want their pity. She hated herself, despised every part she played in the nightmare unfolding below her feet.
The noise was deafening. The smashing glass and loud booms shook the sturdy walls. They were murdering each other…
Her hand gripped the side of the wall as the women moved her along, she screamed they stop…shouted they halt…they were slowing. They were spinning.
“Selange…Selange!”
Blurs of color… inaudible…quiet.
Selange stumbled and was caught by Marcella before she hit the floor.
***
Nico’s clothes were bloodied. He was being restrained by his brother, being dragged apart from Alfonzo who continued pummeling his face with his fists. Nico absorbed every one of them smirking, letting Alfonzo strike, and looking at the man with amused eyes. He could easily kill him, right here, right now. All it took was him to flip his brother over his shoulder, seize the younger man by the neck and snap it. He could do it –but he chose not to.
They heard the women screaming, Nico heard orders being shouted in Italian for an ambulance and he spun away, knocking his brother to the floor and bolted up the stairs with Alfonzo in pursuit.
Alfonzo sprint ahead of him and reached the woman being cradled in Marcella’s lap, before Nico. He knelt, lifting her head up, calling her name like a loving husband, asking her to wake, directing someone to bring a cold towel, taking charge of her care like a doting husband should.
Nico stopped. He could do nothing else. The rage had dissipated from the man who only earlier was fueled with it. The man who would dare threaten his own wife, yet seeing him there brought Nico erect. He’d seen this scene before, only then, Selange had been shot. Blood stained the white shirt she wore and then as he was doing now, Alfonzo held her, caressed her, and stayed by her side. Selange thankfully was okay, a fainting episode. The stress, fragile dove.
Vincent scowled at his twin brother, “You fucking bastard!”
“Shut-up!”
Vincent suddenly put him Nico in a chokehold. “What were you thinking?”
Nico grappled with his equally strong sibling and they bounced against the wall until Nico broke the headlock. He elbowed his brother below the ribcage and their fight ended when Sophie pulled at the two, “Stop! Stop enough!”
Vincent thrust Nico aside. “Forget it, you sonovabitch. If you weren’t my brother I’d…”
Nico breathed anger, “You stand in line, I heard that one already, fratello!”
“Stop it, Vincent this is your brother!”
“Get him the hell out of here!” Vincent shouted to the guards and they converged on Nico guns drawn.
Nico smirked at his brother, “Family, huh?”
Sophie rushed to her nephew and hugged him, “You are family, please Nico go do not make it worse. When it is calm then is the time to talk. For the love of your mother, please.”
Nico inhaled, quickly glanced at Selange and backed away, “You hurt her Alfonzo and I swear…I’ll come for you!”
Alfonzo turned, his eyes glowering with hate, “You threaten me?”
“It’s a promise.”
Selange was waking, “Alfonzo…please stop…please.”
>
Sophie rushed her nephew, pushing him toward the door, “Go…Nico go before he kills you. Do it now!”
He stood there, ready, wanting the bullet. He needed it. But Sophie said, “I love you, if you love me. Please…for me do not do this. I will call you soon. I promise.”
The guards were eyeing him. They were not eager to carry out an execution on one of their own, especially Nico.
Nico exhaled, kissed his aunt’s cheek then removed himself from the equation.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alfonzo leaned forward, hands clasped together, listening. Trying to focus on what his wife was trying to explain. He wanted to hear it, all of it, as if somehow knowing would make it easier, but it didn’t. It caused excruciating pain.
The children were asleep in the upstairs bedroom of the guest house. Domingo, Teresa and their children were in the basement area. Vincent was in the main house, probably sleeping by now after the mayhem. He and Nico trashed the place and he wasn’t sorry. He’d do it again and again and again. Any time he laid eyes on Nico he’d become enraged. Wherever, Nico fled he better stay there. The man stabbed him in the back, literally sucker-punched him. It was a devastating blow because he never expected it to come from the man he deemed a brother.
He didn’t trust anybody anymore, not even his wife. How could he?
“It’s my fault…not Nico’s. I was having a nightmare and just wanted somebody to hold me, it was bad…really horrible and I went to him!”
She was looking down in shame, fidgeting with the hem of her nice dress and stopped only to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. He hadn’t said a word as he listened. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He promised Sophie Selange was safe with him and planned to keep his word. He wouldn’t touch her, but his mind screamed, you went to him…to another man’s bed…have you lost your goddamn mind?
“I’m so sorry for hurting you, for everything –please don’t hurt Nico Alfonzo, I’m begging you.”
The mention of Nico’s name and the plea for his life caused his stomach to churn. His mouth tugged down at the corner in derision. He squeezed his fingers tightly, trying to contain the bile rising in his soul. This woman was his everything, he worshipped the ground she walked on, gave her everything a man could give and she took…took…took…took…it all away.
“Alfonzo say something, please say something. Yell, curse, something.”
He thought he could fix it. Believed he could do it because his love for her was unwavering, yet suddenly he couldn’t stand the sight of her beautiful face. No wonder she wouldn’t listen when he tried to explain how he wound up falling asleep in another woman’s apartment last week. Sure, he was wrong, he admitted but in the end he didn’t screw the woman. She fucked Nico in their home with their children in the next bedroom then tried to hide the evidence. She was lying the entire time after. He wondered what else she was lying about.
Funny, how things turn out. The woman sitting inches away, the one with such an innocent face was the most deceptive of all. He questioned how they got here, to this crook in the chain of marriage. Maybe, his expectations were too high. After-all, she was seated on an extremely high pedestal. She was an excellent mother, wife, friend, at least he thought. She nose-dived right down from it and the sight of her suddenly sickened him.
His mouth finally opened in a snarl, “You love him?”
“I love you…Alfonzo…I swear I love you!”
He stood up. That wasn’t what he asked. A simple yes or no would have sufficed. The hurt grew wide and he walked away.
Selange called his name but he refused to turn or look at her. There was a sharp intake of breath at his back then a piercing wail. “I’m sorry, please believe me. I didn’t mean to do this…Oh God…” came the hiccupping cries.
His heart did not tug at her despair or feel any sympathy for her plight. He was too numb to feel anything. Selange ripped it out with her confession; she ate it like a carnivorous beast. His chest was hollow now without it and he didn’t care if she cried her fucking eyes out.
The adulterous liar!
***
Alberti, Giuseppe and Matteo stood outside the house talking to Vincent as Alfonzo approached. There were shadows under the bright blue eyes along with prickles of stubble along his jaw. These were visible signs the man had risen early and in haste after receiving a call of their arrival. They stood watching him, coat flapping open in the wind and a scowl on his face relaying his ire at being awakened at such an hour.
Alfonzo stopped, shoved his hands in his pockets and faced them down, “This couldn’t wait?”
Matteo, was the man engaged to his cousin Amelda. He stood six-one, about Alfonzo height and a few years older. He was slender in build, a man of leisure, with fine taste and accustomed to wealth. His family owned many businesses. By the arrogance of his mouth, he was also confident in his good-looks and power.
Alberti’s usually pleasant manner was absent. “No, this could not. We need to know your thoughts on Nico.”
Vincent’s lip twisted and his eyes looked down. He too was awakened this morning and requested to meet here. These were the men who would decide his brother’s fate, forcing him to listen and he didn’t like it. Nico was his brother and he would not participate in his killing.
Alfonzo noticed Vincent’s discomfort and understood the reason. In spite of Alfonzo’s anger he could not easily forget Nico’s service over the years. Last night he struggled with the appropriate punishment for Nico’s betrayal. Death had been the initial thought but in truth he could not, would not sanction it. Nico was family!
“I haven’t decided, yet.”
“Where is your brother, my piss of a cousin?” Giuseppe asked Vincent.
Vincent shrugged, “I don’t have a clue.” He answered, and even if he did he wouldn’t disclose it to the likes of Giuseppe. Cousins or not, the man dealt harshly with dissenters.
“Before the wedding I must talk to him and gauge his state of mind. Besides the four of us, he is the only other person who knows our carefully guarded plans.” Alberti reminded Vincent in the event he was not being forthright.
“This is bad for the family.” Giuseppe growled, “My sister is getting married in a few days. The bachelor celebration is tonight and on this happy occasion we are faced with disloyalty by one of our own. We must make an example of him, eh cugino?”
Alberti quickly interjected, “Every solution does not require a death sentence, Giuseppe.”
“What other recourse is there?”
Matteo responded with a hint of an Italian accent, “Alberti is right, besides, this is Alfonzo’s responsibility.”
Alfonzo’s jaw clenched. He could use a cup of coffee, his head banged loudly. “You’re right Matteo, it’s my call. Until, I decide, no one lays a hand on Nico, are we clear Giuseppe?”
Alfonzo singled out his cousin because he was prone to impulsivity.
“And what about your wife? I say divorce her and take the children. Let her feel the consequences of betrayal. I have no such problems and beautiful women at will without the heartache.”
Matteo was silent. He would not offer any advice on the topic of divorce. Soon he would marry his sweetheart and such things as infidelity and divorce were conversations which should be between a husband and his wife. Whatever, course Alfonzo took it should be his and his alone.
“Never separate a good mother from her children Alfonzo and do not act out of anger. Giuseppe has yet to know a great love and the joys of it.” Alberti countered then looked up. He thought he heard a window close. He saw nothing except brick and cornices. “Come, let’s go inside, Tia has made breakfast and we will talk of pleasant things. When your mind is clear revisit your options on your personal dilemma. Today we are going to Palermo and help Giuseppe prepare for Matteo’s celebration. You’re cousin Domingo, call and tell him we will leave in one hour. No women…nothing except men, food and drink!” Alberti concluded.
The men entered the warm confines
of the quiet estate. The women were sleeping, undoubtedly from the lingering effects of wine and last night’s theatre.
Alfonzo’s feet followed the trio. His head blazed at Giuseppe’s comment, particularly the suggestion he punish Selange by keeping the kids. No matter what she’d done he could never hurt his children out of spite. Somewhere, cloaked in the pain remained a burning love for his wife; he only had to find it.
This morning he spotted Selange balled on the sofa in a fetal position. She still wore the pretty dress. Puffiness surrounded her eyes and he wondered if she’d cried herself to sleep. She appeared so fragile there, a forlorn and lonely figure. It should have stirred something in his heart other than indifference. He’d gone back upstairs, retrieved a blanket and covered her like he would if she were Allie. In slumber she clutched at its fuzzy edges, murmuring his name then whimpered. Yet, he felt nothing.
Maybe, one day the overpowering force of what they shared and the promises spoken would return. Once, Selange was all he lived for, presently he was confused and devastated. The children were his focus, a bright light out of the crazed thoughts in his brain. Last night he was hell bent on murder; this morning he understood it was the raging of a desolate and betrayed heart.
He needed time to collect the broken pieces and puzzle himself back together. Maybe, he’d find the missing piece he sought; maybe he’d survive without her; maybe he could forgive her –but maybe wasn’t today. Selange was dead in his mind and he died with her. Sadly, love had yet to reveal itself.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sal and Allie were ecstatic to see their mom when they woke and like children talked about everything they did during her absence. Allie’s articulation improved but over-all her toddler sentences were as expected, short.
