by Mynx, Sienna
“Sweetheart, you’re an even bigger celebrity now after your show in Milan. You have the biggest fashion runway show of your career and then disappear. Of course they were looking for you. How far did things go with this man?”
“I don’t want to talk about Giovanni with you.” She picked up her tea and sipped it.
“I made some calls when you were gone, to learn more about the Battaglia’s. I have friends in Italy too, Mira.”
“Let it go,” she sighed.
“He’s a criminal. A powerfully dangerous man. What were you and Fabiana thinking?”
“Stop it!” she shouted.
Kei sat back with a scowl on his face. She never raised her voice to him in anger. He never raised his voice in anger to her. It was not the nature of their relationship. Arguing with him was always a discussion. No matter how passionately they felt about something, they found a way to talk to each other. Right now she wanted to throw her tea in his face. She wanted to scream and kick until all the pain in her chest lessened.
“You should have never gotten involved with them.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she asked calmly. “My best friend is dead. I saw her die in a car explosion.” She looked up to Kei. “It got out of hand, out of control. I don’t know who or what to blame anymore. Fabiana’s dead, and I feel that way inside.”
Kei nodded. “You aren’t dead, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Mira looked away. “In a few days, he and I will talk and…”
“No.” Kei said firmly. “The man is in the middle of a very nasty Mafia war according to my contacts.”
“Your contacts? Since when do you have contacts?”
“Mira, I’ve always had them.”
She stared at him and believed him. She’d seen Kei’s friends and the ones he never introduced by name. She just chose to ignore it. As she had with Giovanni.
“Your associations with Giovanni Battaglia have to end. For your own safety.”
He loved her. That part had been real. She believed it. But he cut her lose, and at first she thought it was for him, now she was beginning to believe he did it for her.
Kei took her hand and helped her rise. He wrapped his arms around her. “We’re in this together, from now on.”
****
Fish hated many things but America topped the list. It was a noisy confusing place. People were always in a hurry. The women looked like men, and the men looked like women. A fucking wasteland of over indulgence. He sat behind the wheel of his rental car with a map spread across the steering wheel. He was told to park here, under the bridge and wait. He’d waited for over an hour. Could he have been wrong about the location? Fish crumbled the map and grimaced. It was all bullshit! He needed to get in and out of this country fast. He had no time to deal with the Americans to make his business happen.
A passenger van drove up. Two men jumped out of the back, one in a black and white sweat suit with a thick neck and fat jaws walked toward him. Was this the cousin of Angelo Calderone? The man opened the door and got in.
“We have everything,” he said in Italian not bothering with introductions. Fish glanced to the van and watched the men start to unload the products he needed to create the explosives.
“The bitch you want has a condo in Manhattan. Reporters are all over it right now, might be tricky so we got you this.”
The man had a bag with him, a shopping bag. He showed Fish some kind of uniform. “You’ll go in as a maintenance worker to do the job. My boys are going to work on getting you a badge for the building. From there you can come and go without issue.”
Fish removed a padded envelope from the glove compartment and passed it to the man. He then got out of the car and popped the truck. He didn’t need any help. He’d set the explosive and be home to Maria before they could find all of her body.
****
Mira stepped out of the bathroom and turned off the light. She was surprised that Kei kept some of her clothes there. She had a t-shirt and pajama shorts in his drawer. Did he think she was coming back to him? When she padded out into the loft she saw him standing near one of his windows sipping his tea. He turned and looked back at her. “Better?”
“I need my things.”
“Call Angelique. I have an idea.” Kei set his cup down.
“What kind of idea?” Mira walked towards Kei, and he threw his hand up to tell her not to. She glanced to the window and stepped back. A news van had found them. He was certain they wouldn’t look here. “Go upstairs. Let me handle the reporter. Call Angelique. Okay?”
She nodded and went for the stairs. Kei watched her. He winked. She smiled and climbed the stairs, hurrying to his room to avoid being seen.
****
Only Dominic joined him. He wasn’t ready to see the men. Word had been sent that Flavio had to meet with some of their friends in the Republic to address their concerns. The delay in Flavio’s return made Giovanni’s rage hot and fiery in his chest. He drank to keep a cool head.
Dominic rose and opened a cabinet. He then picked up a remote and turned on the television. Giovanni barely responded until he heard an American broadcaster. He glanced to the screen. The runway show was on. Mira’s fashion show. The scene switched to Mira and Fabiana being interviewed, then to Fabiana alone speaking to the press. A running tab beneath announced her death in a fireworks accident along the Amalfi coast.
“This is Flavio’s work?” Giovanni asked.
“He’s cleaning it up.” Dominic confirmed.
“Cleaning up.” Giovanni scoffed. “He thinks he’s Don. I’ve given him too much power and he’s turned on me.”
“I believe he did this for you.”
Giovanni cut his gaze to Dominic. “Is that what you believe?”
“Flavio has always done what is needed for the greater good. Giovanni, can you honestly say that you have a clear head with all that has happened? I’m loyal to you, all of us are, but we need you here, in this fight with us. I don’t agree with Flavio’s methods, but I understand why he went to the extreme. For Battaglia. For what we are poised to lose if we don’t contain that.” Dominic pointed to the television screen.
“You want a leader?” Giovanni gave a bitter chuckle. “I’ll give you one.”
****
Over the years everyone, including Kei, joked that Angelique could be her twin. When his assistant wore her hair down and sunglasses, they were strong lookalike’s. The plan Kei hatched had to work. He wanted Angelique seen by the press in Manhattan. They agreed that she would return to her condo and collect Mira’s things and then have them brought to his office where he’d have his assistant bring them to his private airport. They would leave for Switzerland. She could escape the reporters and recover. It was a solid plan. Why did she still feel hopeless?
Mira turned the channel, flipping from one to another. Kei entered the room. He dropped on the sofa next to her, close to her. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Though she needed him, being with him again felt like a betrayal. As crazy as it sounded, her heart remained very loyal to Giovanni.
“Turn to the news.”
“No.” she continued to channel surf.
“Mira.”
“NO.”
He put his hand on hers. “We need to know what they are saying. You need to hear it. To face it. We aren’t running; we’re regrouping. Soon you are going to have to face these reporters. I suggest you start getting stronger about it now.”
She sighed. Turning the channel to CNN, she raised the volume. They sat in silence as the market report was read. Afterwards it was switched to an anchor. The newscaster cut in on his report.
I’m being told Mira Ellison owner of Mirabella’s franchise, and friend and business partner to the late Fabiana Antonia Girelli, has just arrived at her Manhattan condo. We will take you now to the scene. Mira and Kei sat forward. The camera zoomed in on Angelique. Flashing bulbs and rowdy members of the press o
bstructed Angelique’s attempt to enter her building. A microphone was shoved in Angelique’s face, and her head almost lifted to reveal more of her face. Thankfully, it didn’t. Angelique wore dark shades and a silk scarf that covered her head and wrapped around her neck. She walked with her head down pushing past the crowds by the help of one of Mira’s staff members Eduardo. He and Angelique bounded up the steps, refusing the reporters a single comment. They went inside with the doorman holding the door. This is David Young reporting live for CNN. Mira Ellison is here. We have seen so little from the fashion starlet since reports of her return from Italy. Here is what we know. Mirabella’s fashion premiere was a success in Milan this year, having received rave reviews from international and domestic press. Since the launch of her new line she’s been spotted throughout Italy with businessman Giovanni Battaglia. Our sources tell us that she and Fabiana Girelli were together the day of the incident at the Battaglia wedding in…
A loud blast exploded and the person holding the camera must have been knocked back. Mira frowned and Kei sat up. There was complete chaos of running feet on the screen. The camera was then lifted from the place it fell to show car windows blown out and people from the press screaming and rising from the ground.
“What is it?” Mira asked, her heart racing. Kei put a hand to her knee and squeezed it.
David are you there? What’s going on? The CNN newscaster Sylvester Blake asked. I’m here Sylvester, David appeared before the camera, a bit winded. The blares of car alarms nearly drowned out his voice. People ran behind him. There has been an explosion. I repeat an explosion on the twentieth or so floor. The camera panned upward and flames shot out of the entire floor. Then another explosion happened, and the cameraman must have ducked. Mira shook her head, repeatedly. It couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t!
“No! NO! It’s not Angelique. No!”
“Stay here. Let me find out what happened.
Mira stared at the screen in disbelief. It couldn’t be Angelique. It couldn’t be.
****
“Are we sure about this Gio?” Lorenzo asked first. It was the question every man in the room wanted to ask. “We’re talking about killing Don Calderone, Angelo, the entire top line of their family…”
“We’re talking about more than that. We’re talking about being true to who we are. We show the Calderone’s, sympathizers, the entire world that to strike against me and my family will bring death. Each of you will do it alone, and clean. In and out. And I want it done starting now.”
Dominic rose to answer the phone ringing in Giovanni’s office. He glanced back to the door. It could be his Bella returning his call. He itched to run after the phone himself.
“I want Fish.” Nico said. “That runt needs to die by my hands.”
Giovanni didn’t care who did what on his hit list. Just that it was done. They hadn’t been able to locate the woman Maria, Fish’s woman, but he knew that justice would require her life as well. Again he felt nothing.
“Giovanni!” Dominic yelled form the other room. The men all sat up. Giovanni was on his feet marching toward the door. Dominic ended the call when he entered.
“What is it?” Dominic pointed to the television screen. Giovanni stood in front of it trying to understand the chaos. He turned up the volume and listened.
We have confirmed it. Mira Ellison is dead! I repeat Mira Ellison owner and founder of Mirabella’s is dead. Today a bomb was planted in her penthouse apartment. The news flashed to a scene of Mira struggling with the press to get through the crowds to the door. A young man with spiky hair helped her. Giovanni could barely see her face, but it looked like her. She arrived today at six this evening and entered the building behind me, only five minutes after her arrival an explosion claimed her young life. This on the eve of her best friend, Fabiana Antonia Girelli’s death.
Lorenzo walked in, and Giovanni stumbled back from the television. If not for the chair, he would have landed on his ass. A cold knot formed in the pit of his stomach. Everything, including the television became vague and shadowy. Dead. She couldn’t be dead. Mirabella wasn’t dead!
****
Mira held to the inside of the door. Kei was driving through the streets of Brooklyn like a madman. And she was so close to a complete meltdown she struggled to breathe. Someone was out to kill her. In fact, right now, the world thought they had succeeded. “This will never end, will it Kei?”
“Don’t worry. My pilot is ready. We’re leaving.”
“They’ll keep coming after me. Whoever they are… I don’t even know who wants me dead. Oh God!”
“I think I have an idea,” Kei seethed.
“Giovanni? No. He was trying to protect me,” she said.
“By sending you here, with no one? Right after your best friend was killed.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. Kei reached and squeezed her knee. “I’ll get you out of here sweetheart. You know I will.”
She closed her eyes. He extended his hand. She placed hers in his palm. He was the only one she could trust. And she intended to. For the past few years she had let everyone take care of things for her. This time she would have to do what she’d done since the day she left Virginia. Find the strength to take care of herself.
****
“It’s a lie! A fucking lie! She isn’t dead.” A faint thread of hysteria was in the back of his voice. Lorenzo and the others stood silent. Giovanni paced with his hands to the side of his head. “No. It’s not Mira. I would know if it was Mira. I’d fucking feel it!”
“What is it? What’s happened?” Flavio asked entering the room with a slight hesitation and surprise in his hawk like grey eyes.
Giovanni paused. He turned stiffly, almost stumbling, and gave the man he trusted above all else a blue-eyed glare. The events of the next minutes came to him in flashes. Such as him grabbing Flavio and throwing him to the ground, followed by a flash of him pounding his fist into the old man’s face viciously. Each blow bringing forth a release of more hatred and rage than he ever knew lived within him. Something broke beneath his fist, possibly the old man’s jaw or chin. Blood sprayed from Flavio’s mouth as he tried feebly to ward off the attack with his arms. Another flash hit Giovanni in strobe like frequency. This time he felt constrained. He was lifted and carried out of the room by three of his strongest men as he yelled until his voice disappeared in hoarse croaks. And the flashes kept coming. Chaos. Shouting voices. The destruction of everything in his sight when he was forced into a room, happened in slow motion, as if his madness was winding down to nothing. And soon he realized it had. He had nothing. She was gone.
Later
Lorenzo wiped his hand down his face, taking in a slow breath. He felt so bone weary he dropped a hand to the wall to keep standing. Behind him he heard footfalls and glanced back. “What the fuck happened? Why did Gio attack Flavio like a lunatic?”
“Is he in there?”
“Yeah. I got three of the boys on him. He’s fucking lost it.”
“Mira Ellison is dead. Flavio may have had a part in it. The old man is in a bad way. I’m trying to contain it. The dottore is with Flavio now. I need Gio’s approval to take him to the ospedale.”
“Shit! Are we sure she’s dead?” Lorenzo dropped his head back on the wall. Now both of the girls were gone. And no matter how you sliced it, this was on him. His cousin had never come apart this far. Ever. Not even after the shooting of Papa Tomosino and the killing of the Russians Lorenzo pinned the hit on. “What are we going to do?”
“What we have to.” Dominic stepped past him and threw open the door.
Giovanni stared at the television. He was brought to a guest room. It was a room the boys frequented to play cards and watch television. The Italian press was now reporting on Mira’s death. The screen then flashed again to her fashion event. Mira’s lovely face came up. She was being interviewed, and Fabiana was at her side translating.
“Oh yes. I love your country, absolutely love it! Italy is a dream. Th
is is my dream come true. That’s why I moved here. It’s the beauty of Italy that I find inspiring the most. Oh and the men are nice too!” The reporter laughed, as did Mira. Giovanni felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. My fashion line for the fall was to encompass the spirit of Italia, and I hope I did that with this showing,” she beamed happily. Her bangs covered her brow and her hair was wound curly around her face. She wore a green blouse. She looked very much like the woman he met. Not the one who could barely stand when he left her. His angel.
On the screen Fabiana leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Mira nodded and said her goodbyes. The image froze with a screenshot of her smile. The dates 1964 to 1989 were beneath her. Mira Ellison the founder and head fashion designer of Mirabella’s died today at the age of 25. She was killed in a bombing outside of her penthouse in New York City. She will truly be missed by her peers and friends throughout the fashion world.”
Giovanni, with a shaky hand turned the television off.
“Gio. We need to talk.” Dominic said.
Giovanni kept his back to his men. He wiped his hand down his face and cleared it of tears. He cleared his throat, though it was physically painful to speak. Every fiber in his bones, tendons, muscles hurt. “Go. Go and follow my orders. But you have a new one. Flavio Pricci is dead to me. He is no longer consigliere. Bury him tonight.” Giovanni lifted his gaze. “You will be the one to put the bullet in him Domi. You will be the one sitting in his chair.”
“Are you sure? I came to tell you Flavio needs medical attention…”
Giovanni shot Dominic a glare. Nothing else was said on the matter.
“Gio, I can stay.” Lorenzo offered.
Giovanni dropped in a chair. “Go.”
Left alone, he sat in silence. The shock and disbelief had numbed all of his senses. He couldn’t see well. His hearing was off, and he smelled and tasted nothing. He purely existed. He hadn’t risked his heart on a woman ever. And if he dared do so, he was prepared for rejection. This, however, was something he couldn’t live with. Her blood was on his hands. And he swore silently to get her justice.
