Destino (40 page)

“I knew you’d be back in time for the wedding.” Catalina gushed.

Mira appeared with Fabiana. Her presence among the women made Flavio’s brow rise. He narrowed his gaze on her. Lorenzo watched, mildly amused. Flavio was old school. Lorenzo suspected he wanted Giovanni free of the entanglements of women, to mold him further into the cold bastard Tomosino was. “You ladies leaving?” Lorenzo asked.

Giovanni winked at Mira and she crossed the room going to him. Flavio tracked her with his eyes and released Catalina to openly stare at her.

“Flavio. Meet Mira Ellison. She’s my guest.” Giovanni said.

Mira extended her hand. “Ciao.”

After a pause he accepted her hand and kissed her knuckles in greeting. He never spoke. Mira shyly stepped back to Giovanni’s side.

“She’s going to design my wedding dress!” Catalina proclaimed.

A light of understanding sharpened the steely grey stare he fixed her with. The old man actually looked relieved. Lorenzo shook his head at the scene.

“Time to go. We have some things to get before we start today. Are you staying for dinner? Please say yes!”

He nodded and patted Catalina’s cheek. Mira said something Lorenzo couldn’t hear to Giovanni and he chuckled. He kissed her in front of everyone before the ladies left.

Giovanni noticed the old man’s reaction to Mira. He’d address it privately. His attention switched to his cousin. Lorenzo met his gaze dead on as if there was nothing to hang his head in shame over. Again anger boiled his gut and made his chest tight. “Leave us. Flavio and I have things to discuss,” he said to the room. Lorenzo looked around, confused at the short reprieve. If Giovanni had learned nothing over the past years, it was that his emotions could never rule him. He let that happen once with the Russians and his men saw his weakness for his father. But his father was gone and that weakness was shelved. He could not and would not show the same irrational rage toward Lorenzo.

One by one the men left as he requested. Lorenzo was the last to draw the doors to the sunroom shut.

“They have not found Giuseppe’s body yet. We need to get to that body and make sure it’s never discovered.”

“So it’s proven. Lorenzo pulled the trigger?” Giovanni lowered to the chair.

“Dominic’s information is solid. I checked with some of the families in Sicily. Lorenzo and Giuseppe did business. No one knows for how long or for what. Your father is turning over in his grave.”

“Good. He can make room for Lorenzo when I bury him.”

“Is that how you would do it? Kill your cousin?”

“Do I have a fucking choice? If he’s betrayed me, this family, he has left me none.”

“If? That is the word you must consider before you act. If he betrayed the family. Lorenzo is a hot head, like his mother. She should have been born a man.” Flavio chuckled. He lowered to the chair across from Giovanni and crossed his legs. The gold tiepin sparkled against his all black attire. His salt and pepper hair extended to his neatly trimmed beard, and his grey eyes were vibrant with life and wisdom. Giovanni trusted him above all else.

Flavio smiled. “You are your father’s son.”

“My father wouldn’t have tolerated this insolence. He wouldn’t have stood for it.”

“Your father was a man of great strength. However, family was the source of that strength. Do you think he could have built all that you have without family?”

Giovanni’s eyes swept the room.

“No.” Flavio uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “He chose you son. The day you were put in his arms he chose you. He didn’t care about your mixed blood. You are his son.”

“He tested me.” Giovanni said bitterly.

“As a father should test a son.” Flavio nodded, and again Giovanni had to accept abuse for love. “He gave you a new name. Battaglia. A family within the
Cammora
that even the Dons of Sicily bow their heads in respect to. This was no easy feat.”

“Spare me the history lesson. I know it!”

“Do you?” Flavio’s gaze lifted as Giovanni rose and began to pace. “History is what we play our hand from. It’s what guides our future. You are stronger because of the men that are sworn to you. Lorenzo’s actions could work in your favor. If you are wise enough to know how to use it to the family’s advantage.”

Giovanni closed his eyes. He knew Flavio spoke the truth. Still Lorenzo defied him. The only explanation for the alliance to Giuseppe was to feed his greed. How could that go unpunished? Giovanni stopped. He cast his gaze to Flavio. “You want us to go to war with Calderone?”

Flavio smiled. “Think of it. No more begging the old Don for land purchases. You, Gio, can own the triangle. Genoa, Turin, Milan. All of it yours, unchallenged. And I’m speaking of legitimate business, not the squalor. The
Cammora
has no reach in northern Italy. This is your way.”

“A war will mean lives, bloodshed. For what? To make me as greedy as my cousin?”

Flavio waved it off. “To make you omniscient. It’s time for you to become what your father had been working for. Don Calderone is barely recovering from his stroke. He will act irrationally. He will spill blood first. A war is here, how you win the war is for you to decide.”

“Lorenzo should not go unpunished!” Giovanni slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. Flavio nodded his agreement.

“Lorenzo is impulsive and reckless. He’s never been satisfied with the title of underboss. This was bound to happen. I advised you years ago not to give him the gambling houses or the whores to manage. It was too big of a responsibility and temptation for him.”

“Well, obviously, you were right.” Giovanni mumbled.

“What you must consider is not the betrayal, Giovanni. We can deal with his flagrant disregard for the rules. See the bigger picture.”

Giovanni closed his eyes and sighed. “And what of respect, loyalty, honor? How is
omerta
held sacred without those three?”

“No kingdom has been built on flowers son. You need a strong foundation, hard muscle, and an unwavering message to all of your enemies that you will control both worlds. Then your enemies will respect you. The men you lead will be loyal to you. And Lorenzo will learn the meaning of honor.”

“What do I do?”

“What you must. Tell him what you must. Tighten his leash, and when things settle we revisit this conversation of respect, loyalty and honor. If he must be dealt with, then you put the family in order first.”

“I want to forgive him, to right this. I don’t know how.” Giovanni said.

Flavio smirked. “It’ll come.”

“Send for him.” Giovanni said. “Make sure the women are gone before he enters.” He removed his gun and put it on the table. Flavio stared at the weapon for a moment, and then lifted his dark gaze to him.

“A cool head, Gio. Remember.”

“I will try.”

He watched the old man leave. Waited until he returned with both Lorenzo and Dominic. Tomosino’s boys, as the three of them were often referred as. His father had a hand in the men they all had become. And it was true he could see the best and worst of his father in him and Lorenzo. Today he’d have to rise above his pride for the greater good. One look at his lying cousin and that became an insufferable task.

“I’ll ask it one time.” Giovanni began. “Careful of your answer. Why did you kill Giuseppe Calderone?”

Lorenzo heard the door open behind him. He didn’t have to turn to know that Nico and the boys had arrived. Things would get ugly before it settled. He eased his hands into his pockets and gave a one shoulder shrug. “I did it for the family.”

Giovanni smirked. “Is that so?”

“You were right to close
Isabella’s
. We didn’t know that the Albanians had young girls, or if it was Francesco who soiled our business. The family and our honor were jeopardized because of it. You were right cousin and I was wrong. But there’s something you don’t know.” Lorenzo swallowed. He thought of Fabiana’s words to him. Last night he confessed. He told her of how his jealousy got him to drinking in Genoa one night, the night he stumbled into Giuseppe’s club and bitterly told his tale of being rejected by the Don. When he learned that Don Tomosino had no intention of letting Giovanni go, but would bring him back and make him next in the line to lead Battaglia. That night he and Giuseppe commiserated over how they loathed their fathers. And whether it was a joke or boastful bragging, they suggested taking a shot at each other’s Don to free them. Lorenzo didn’t mean it. But Giuseppe hired some Russians to do the job. The bastard set it into motion, and Lorenzo could do nothing to stop it. He confessed this shame to Fabiana and she held him, took his burden and swore to help him through it. Now he had to remember her advice. To not falter, not waver from his truth, but to do anything to keep the nasty details from his cousin.

“Continue.” Giovanni said. “What is it I don’t know?”

“The real threat that I’ve kept from you is the Nigerians. They’ve started moving drugs along the Amalfi, and Giuseppe helped them. He tricked me.”

Giovanni tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“I was trying to gain some advantage in Genoa. I had agreed to let Giuseppe import through my line of the coast.”

The Amalfi was hard to move in and out of without being stopped by patrols. Giovanni never had this problem because of the people on his payroll. This gave Lorenzo the freedom to take liberties that he shouldn’t have. A coil of rage tightened his lungs, and Giovanni breathed slow and easy to remain calm and hear the tale. He nodded to Nico, and his enforcer stepped directly behind Lorenzo.

His cousin wiped his jaw, his gaze unsteady as it switched from Giovanni to Flavio, then to Dominic. “Rare antiquities that were being put in the market. Giuseppe wanted to deal with the Nigerians to handle it. Players we don’t know. I believed him, at first. Then I checked a shipment myself. A small bust broke and inside was drugs. When I confronted the worm, he admitted to bringing in drugs. I was outraged. We argued, he insulted Papa, you, and our family. So I killed him.”

“Albanians, Russians, Nigerians, what the fuck is this Gio, the UN of thieves? Why are all these outsiders circling? And why, Lorenzo, did you not think to tell any of this?” Flavio asked.

“I had it under control.”

“You figured.” Giovanni nodded. “You decided for all of us.”

“I made a mistake. I tried to rectify it, Giovanni.”

He rose from his chair. He stood before the gun and Lorenzo. Every man in the room tensed. Lorenzo’s voice broke the stand-off. “I am guilty, but is it worth my life Giovanni? What do you need from me, cousin, for me to gain your forgiveness?”

“It is not worth your life.” Giovanni half smiled. “I couldn’t do that to Catalina. But you have lost all privileges. Including the house in Bellagio. Dominic is now my left hand.”

“Giovanni!” Lorenzo barked. “That is not just!”

His lips curled into an angry snarl. “It is the only justice today for what you have done!” he yelled.

“And? That’s it? I’m an errand boy?”

“You’re alive. Show some gratitude.” Flavio warned.

Lorenzo turned to respond, but Nico delivered a hard punch to his spine. Unexpectedly, Lorenzo's knees buckled, and he dropped on all fours. Renaldo grabbed Lorenzo’s hair and yanked it up as Nico stepped in front of him and started to pound his fists into his face until blood spewed from his nostrils and mouth. Semi-conscious Lorenzo fell over to the floor, and all four men began to kick him in the chest, back, even to the face. Giovanni glanced up to Dominic who had fear in his eyes. He nodded that the beating could cease. Dominic yelled for the men to stop and shoved them several feet away from Lorenzo. He went to his knees, checking on him. Giovanni walked back to his desk and sat behind him.

“Clean him up. Don’t let Catalina see him that way.”

They carried him out. As angry as he was with him, he loved him still. Killing him at the end of this would be the hardest thing he would have to do. Yet the lessons learned from his father and his uncles made him a man capable of it. Lorenzo knew this. They were all on borrowed time.

Chapter Twelve

Shopping had only taken a little over an hour. They were back to find the villa buzzing with activity. There appeared to be more men now than before they left, and Mira could sense the tension between all of them stomping around the grounds. Catalina was given an update from her staff in Italian, and she spoke to Fabiana in Italian. Mira tried not to take it personal, but it irked her. She was then led to the third level. Mira was shocked to see a lot of her equipment from the boutique had been brought in.

“How is this possible?” Mira asked.

Fabiana smiled. “I told you I’d make it work. Lorenzo pulled some strings.”

Mira found her kits and felt like she could breathe again. Suddenly the heaviness on her heart lifted. As Fabiana gave some instructions on where to set up her cutting tables, Mira drifted to the window. It faced the back of the estate. Giovanni was below. He was near the pool pacing with the man he introduced her to earlier. Frowning, she moved closer to the window observing his body language. Something was wrong with the way he kept smoothing his hair back. He was angry again.