Lorenzo followed.
His best friend only saw him when someone in the room called out Lorenzo’s name in excitement. Carlo glanced back with that wounded lion look in his eyes. Lorenzo cocked his head left gesturing they leave the crowd and find a corner to chat. Carlo dug out a lager of his choice in a cool bottle with ice crystals covering the glass. He nodded and followed Lorenzo to the crates near a closed door.
“Where have you been?” Lorenzo asked.
Carlo glanced to his brother. The kid was laughing and demonstrating his technique with a few shadow punches for the younger men.
“Is he ready?” Lorenzo asked.
“I’ll stake my life on it,” Carlo said. “He’s ready.”
“It seems like we don’t talk much anymore. I rarely see you. I don’t hear from you.” Lorenzo said.
“Are you my wife?” Carlo asked.
Lorenzo chuckled. He stared at the men with Carlo in silence. “I need my friend. Things are getting complicated.”
“What things?” Carlo mumbled.
“For starters you missed the meeting with Santo. Giovanni has given the sanitation routes in the Arenaccia district to Santo.”
“Renaldo told me that Santo wasn’t promoted,” Carlo said in a dry tone.
“He wasn’t. He’ll watch the men pick up shit and trash. It’s an appeasement while Giovanni and the other bosses keep an eye on him.”
“And this pisses you off?” Carlo asked.
“He’s a
pentito
. A rat,” Lorenzo said. “And not just for Mottola. Have you not forgotten how he turned on you? How he let you go to jail and did nothing to help?”
“Don’t do that,” Carlo said.
“Do what?” Lorenzo said.
“Don’t use that bullshit to gain my alliance in whatever plan you’re hatching. Santo paid his price. I don’t like the fucker, but he is a brother. If Giovanni wants to forgive, then you’ll forgive.”
Lorenzo fumed. He didn’t trust Santo. He didn’t have the time to dig up more dirt on the
pentito bastardo
. “Keep an eye on him. It’s all I ask,” Lorenzo said.
Carlo didn’t respond. Lorenzo glanced over to him. “What happened with you and the American woman? Marietta tells some story of an argument and sending her away.”
Carlo didn’t answer.
Lorenzo thought to press for an answer and decided against it. Instead he approached another subject. “I’ve been meeting with Tacchi.”
“Why?”
“He has his concerns. He thinks Gio is trying to squeeze the lower clans out,” Lorenzo said. He reclined back against the wall. “He’s hungry.”
“Who gives a fuck? He’s not of any importance.”
“He understands the trafficking that comes through the bay. He understands the future.
La Cosa Nostra
is already bringing in heroine through Turkey. Tacchi has contacts. He tells me—”
“I get it,” Carlo said with an exasperated sigh.
“You get what?”
“You don’t give a shit about Tacchi’s contacts. You’re going after Mancini’s drug business. You want to hand that over to Gio,” Carlo said.
“Bravo,” Lorenzo chuckled.
“It’s a dangerous plan, Lo. We keep the
Polizi di Stato
and the
Carabinieri
in their place because we don’t cross borders. Even if you take down Mancini from the inside, he has two hundred years worth of loyalty and history on that island. The
Mafiosi
will never bow to you.”
Lorenzo smiled. “It’s possible. Can you imagine it? Gio runs the
Camorra
and I run the
Mafiosi
. Think of the power we’d both have. And we would be equals. We’ll rule the world.”
“It’s a death wish. You’ll weaken us if you divide the men that way,” Carlo said.
“I have a plan. I just want to know when the rubber meets the road, which way you will roll?”
Carlo sighed. When he held back on giving an answer Lorenzo looked over. Carlo continued to stare at his brother.
“Well?” Lorenzo asked.
“I have my own plans. Ciro is my plan. All the way to America.”
“America? Bullshit!” Lorenzo laughed. “With your record they will never let you in the fucking country!”
Carlo sat upright. “It’s not bullshit!” he said through clenched teeth. “We could eventually move to America. I can find Shae and who knows. I can be my own man.”
“You don’t have the fucking balls to be anything other than who you are. You swore your life to
la Camorra
!”
“Yes! But I didn’t swear a life to being your bitch!” Carlo threw the glass bottle at the wall and it shattered. It nearly hit a man who jumped out of the way. Lorenzo chuckled after Carlo’s flash of rage. “I have my own life! Go play in your drugs. That shit is poison. It’ll destroy you and Gio.”
Carlo stood and walked away. Lorenzo cursed under his breath.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” Eduardo said.
“Don’t!” Ringo grabbed his arm. They glanced over in time to see Carlo throw a bottle at the wall and then storm away. Lorenzo didn’t look pleased.
“He’s in a mood,” Ringo warned. “Bad timing.”
“He’s always in a mood,” Eduardo reasoned. “Now is the time.”
“It won’t work!” Ringo warned.
“It will. Look at Renaldo. He tells the Don everything on those women. No matter the news. They respect him for it. I hear he’s back in his old role again, guarding the Don. Lorenzo needs to know.”
“We swore to the Donna that we would not mention any of it. Ever,” Ringo said.
“Not the birth control. We did not make that promise. The Donna didn’t even ask for us to make that promise because she too knows it’s blasphemous. If I tell Lorenzo that his wife is tricking him he will be grateful. He will reward me and you. I can get out of this errand boy bullshit. Be an enforcer. Maybe even get promoted to work with Renaldo and Nico.”
The plan sounded solid. But when Ringo glanced over to Lorenzo he recalled the time before when he delivered him news he didn’t want. Lorenzo came to a party and shoved a gun in his mouth. It was just a package, and Lorenzo was willing to kill him. What would happen to his friend?
“Don’t do it!” Ringo tried to grab Eduardo by the arm but Eduardo snatched away. He almost called after him when he saw Carlo from his peripheral vision watching him. Ringo nodded at Carlo and turned and went in the other direction. He didn’t want anything to do with it.
Lorenzo stood. He would go home to Marietta and let her calm him. Without Carlo at his side he felt open and vulnerable. Tomorrow he’d apologize and gain his friend’s trust. He’d just have to find a way to wake him up. The boxing dreams he had were nothing more than bullshit, not a reality. His idea was best for the brothers, and the brotherhood.
“Boss, can I speak to you?” asked Eduardo.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” Lorenzo started for the door.
“It’s about
signora
Marietta.”
Lorenzo paused. He glanced back at Eduardo. He barely knew the kid. More and more Nico hired the youth to do the errands, and some were elevated enough to be given more important jobs. This one hadn’t taken a vow to be anything other than a foot soldier, relegated to patrolling Melanzana and keeping an eye on the women.
“I ah, I wanted to say—” Eduardo stammered.
Lorenzo looked the boy over. What was he twenty, twenty-one? He was scrawny with mousey brown hair and a sleepy eye. The kid shoved his hands down into the front pockets of his jeans and continued to mumble through his words.
“Spit it out!” Lorenzo said.
“I was there, the day the women fought. I was there first to break them apart.” The boy lowered his gaze. “They argued. And… boss, see, I ah, I thought you should know why.”
Lorenzo took a step toward him. “What the fuck do you have to say about my wife?”
“She lies to you. She takes the pill so she won’t become pregnant.” Eduardo said.
“
Che cazzo dici!
Say it again!” Lorenzo drew down on the boy with his gun.
Carlo heard Lorenzo’s voice pitch high over the laughter and the music. He looked up and saw Eduardo now staring directly into the barrel of Lorenzo’s gun. Several men began to back away.
“Shit!” he got up quick to get to the scene but he was too late. Lorenzo fired and blew the kid’s head clear off his shoulders. After the cannon blast, silence echoed through the room, except for the ringing in everyone’s ears because of the discharge.
Lorenzo stepped forward and stood over Eduardo. He unloaded his gun into the body until the poor sap was shredded to a bloody pulp. The blasts were deafening. No one moved. Carlo was the only one brave enough to approach his friend.
“Lo, check yourself,” Carlo warned. Lorenzo’s position was one of strength. He could not show weakness in front of these men. Lorenzo didn’t move. He stared down at the boy as if in shock. No matter how dirty the deed, Carlo had never seen Lorenzo shocked by his actions. Something was wrong. What could Eduardo have said to unleash such fury?
“Tutto va bene
. Leave.” Carlo said. “Leave.”
Lorenzo blinked. He looked to Carlo as if only then could he hear, think, and breathe. He turned and walked out. Carlo ran his hand over his head. “Arturo, Elian, Umberto, get garbage bags and a mop.” He glanced around at the other men staring. Most of them lowered their eyes. Those that loved murder and mayhem met his stare with an amused smile. A few laughed. Among the faces he didn’t see Ringo. His protégé was Eduardo’s shadow. The kid would know the reason for the hit. He stormed out of the villa and into the night.
**
Santo chose to enter through the back doors no matter the establishment he visited. His routine had to be natural and repetitive. He had men who he used to call brothers watching and tracking his every move.
The manager glanced up from his magazine. It was late. The lobby was dark except for the small portable television with the bent antenna in the corner. Santo nodded at the man and headed up the steps. The lift hadn’t worked in years. He kept glancing back over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. At first he thought it was his paranoia. He however picked up his tail at a restaurant in Pompeii. It took him two hours to lose the fuckers.
He arrived at the door and knocked only once.
After a second it opened. Isabella smiled at him. She wore a black satin robe parted enough to reveal her voluptuous breasts. She stepped aside for him to come in. The strong patchouli smell of incense burning greeted him. Isabella was a beautiful woman. After one night between her creamy thighs he considered himself an addict. Often they fucked first and reserved the talk of business for after. To be as refined and elegant as she appeared in her expensive shoes, she let him fuck her any way he chose.
“You’re late,” she said. She closed the door.
He reached for her. A thin sash tied around her waist closed the robe she wore. He yanked it off to reveal her nudity. She had flawless buttery tanned skin. Her large breasts were tipped with even larger rose-colored nipples. She didn’t shave her pussy. He was grateful. The downy nest of curls over the delta of her sex was where he loved to bury his nose while he licked and fucked her with his tongue.
The excitement of her being so close overcame him. His head bent to capture her mouth, but she grabbed his face and stopped what should have occurred naturally.
“He’ll call in a hour. Do you have something for him?” she asked.
Santo smiled. “Gio’s agitated. Like you said he would be, he now sees Kei’s shadow everywhere. We have to make our move now. Let’s discuss what kind of move that is later.”
He shoved her to the bed. Isabella grinned. Santo began to undress.
“I need more that that, Santo. Where is he vulnerable? When is she out of his sight,” Isabella asked.
“The Donna is taking the little one Eve to the church for school. I know who will be driving and which men will be following. You can have your boys pick them off easily.”
“Mmm, sounds yummy,” she started to rub her breasts for him. “I’m so ready.”
“Me too.”
**
Marietta turned over. She expected to find Lorenzo in bed with her. When her hand smoothed over the cool sheet she sobered from sleep. He arrived. She was certain she heard him return to the room in the middle of the night. Marietta sat up. She reached for the lamp switch next to her bed and flipped it on. Lorenzo was across the room seated in his favorite chair. Though the corner of the room where he sat had the deepest shadows, she could see his penetrating stare. He was awake.
“Sweetheart? What time is it?”
He didn’t answer. If he had been drinking he’d already be in bed wrestling with her.
“Come to bed.” She turned off the lamp. Marietta slipped back under the covers. When he didn’t move or respond she opened her eyes again. Marietta sighed. Whatever was bothering him would keep him sulking all night. She tossed the covers aside. She sat up. She wore a black silk negligee that barely covered her thighs. The front triangular cups revealed her breasts as well. It was one of his favorites. If he had come home early like he promised she would have given him his treat.