La Famiglia (14 page)

The future had promise.

“What are you doing?” he said behind her.

Lisa looked back at him. “I’m getting your things ready for you. The sooner you leave, the sooner you will come back. Right?”

He stared at her. He didn’t answer. She tried to act like it didn’t matter. And then a smile broke on his face.

“Ti adoro, sì, nothing and no one will keep me from returning.”

Mancini set the Polaroid of Lisa next to the picture of Marietta. He saw his beloved in his daughter clearly. All of these years he believed Marietta was dead. He suffered such guilt and shame for his actions. He abused everyone and everything he loved because of his loss of Lisa and their babies. The past was the past. There was little he could do about it. But he had every intention of changing the future.

He smiled.

“Marietta, I will meet you soon.”

4.

Catalina pulled a fresh cotton white shirt down over her head and eased her arms into the sleeves. She then reached for her grey leggings to slip on. The private train car was unusually cold. She wished she had a pair of socks for her feet. The journey was half over. For Catalina there was only a small part of travelling by train that she enjoyed. When the train was disassembled and then rolled on a ferry to cross the Straits of Messina, and then put back together on the other side
.
It was how one travelled from Italy to Sicily.

When she was a little girl Dominic would be in charge of bringing her to Mondello after she was released for school break. Patri wanted her well learned at an all girls Catholic institution and her mother agreed. She suffered the strict discipline of the church while praying for the day Dominic would come and rescue her.

And he was so handsome too. Barely eighteen, Dominic’s long lashes, piercing brown eyes, and boyish charm made Sister Clara smile when he arrived.

Sister Clara never smiled.

At twelve things changed. Catalina began to notice how his handsomeness affected others, especially girls her age. All her friends would gather by the window with her to wait for him to walk up the cobblestone streets and pass through the tall iron gates. It was innocent then. He was her brother. She liked the attention of being
la piccoletta
of the Battaglia family. She bragged to friends that her brothers, Giovanni, Lorenzo, Dominic, and Carlo, would bury anyone who defied her. And that Dominic was her guardian who treated her like a princess. She loved him as a brother, then. But soon it changed in her heart. She loved him as much more.

Often when vacation time came she and Dominic traveled separate from their parents to Mondello, Sicily. Always on a train. Dominic would wake her early in the morning once the train brought them out of Naples through the city of Rome. They would leave the train car and go up on deck while the ferry crossed the straits. It was a unique experience to watch the sunrise. And it might explain why he chose this method of travelling. The train held such sweet memories for them both.

Dominic sat near the window in nothing but his slacks. His jaw was tight and his lips pressed into a thin grim line. 

“Domi?”

With no discernable emotion on his face he turned his gaze toward her. She smiled. A half smile crossed his lips to reassure her. Of course he said nothing. When Dominic was deep in thought he rarely shared those thoughts. Catalina put her hands to her hips and studied him further.

Should she force the conversation or give him some space?

Something was off with him. And it sure as hell wasn’t their sex life. He nearly broke her back earlier by fucking her on that uncomfortable bunk. He was so full of lust and repressed passion thanks to their short separation. Catalina tolerated the demands he put on her body. The train car they traveled in was larger than most, but sex here felt awkward and impersonal. Dominic returned his gaze to the window. The tiny silver medallion of St. William gleamed from the stainless steel chain around his neck in the darkness, beneath his collarbone.

“
Dica?
You worried about something?” Catalina asked.

When he didn’t respond she threw up her hands in defeat. She wouldn’t press the issue further. In fact she had something of her own to discuss. The idea of pushing Giovanni for permission to marry had her on edge since they left Milano. It was too soon. She couldn’t focus on being a wife when she had so many exciting things happening for her. But how could she explain this to Dominic?

“Come sit with me.” Dominic gestured to the bunk he sat on. Catalina walked over and he took her hand to pull her down. She snuggled up against him.

“I’m worried about Gio and Mira,” Dominic confessed.

Catalina sat upright. “You are? Why? Something wrong with the baby?”

“No. And it’s babies remember?”

Catalina laughed. “How could I forget? Gio brags to everyone about the sons he will have.”

Dominic gave a weak smile, and then he chuckled. “Yes. He’s happy Catalina. But
–”

“But what? Finish.” Catalina insisted.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back with a deep sigh. “I can’t get into it. Never mind it. You know me, I worry about the family constantly. Gio is so stubborn. It’s hard to get him to see reason when it comes to his wife.”

“But why worry now, Domi? We’ve been through so much. Now is the time to celebrate. Everyone is happy about the babies, and Mira has her company back. Why worry?”

“Because Gio is strongest when we all are.” Dominic interjected. “Lately I’ve felt a disconnection in the family. We are cast to the wind now. You in Milano, Lorenzo gone, me splitting my time between the
Campania
and business in the triangle, this is not what’s best for us.” He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “It’s good that we will return to
Sicilia
and spend time with the family these next few months. We all need this.”

Catalina measured her response. She knew her working away from him became tiring, but they were never apart for longer than a few days or weeks. “I understand. But, Domi we’re changing. And that makes us strong.” She touched the tiny silver St. William medallion he wore on his neck. She kissed it. “Don’t worry. We’re going to be okay because you always see to it.”

Dominic nodded and returned his gaze to the night outside of the window. No matter how she tried to soothe him she knew he doubted her faith. Maybe now wasn’t a good time to tell him she wanted to move to Milan. No. She’d keep that to herself for the time being.

* B
*

Near Sainte Maxime, Southern France –

Lorenzo could not look away. Marietta danced across
Le Femme
with her eyes trained on him. She wore a bright tangerine orange mini dress. The low neckline to the front of the dress reached her navel and parted her voluptuous breast. The dress hugged her curvaceous figure and rose up her shapely thighs when she wound her hips. It revealed her flawless slender brown legs with diamonds sparkling off her left ankle. Above her light beams spun and cast red, yellow, and blue rays across the dancefloor. Flashes of color washed over the gyrating bodies on the dance floor. Smoke clouded the atmosphere of the club. A thick white curl of it rolled out of his nostrils after a drag of his cigar. All the while he never lost track of his Marietta.

She knew the rules.

At any club of her choosing Marietta could dance for as long as she pleased, but never with another man. He had no tolerance for that bullshit. And she wasn’t the kind of woman to tease or push his buttons by flirting with others. Tonight she’d been quite happy. His femme fatale had chosen a dance club that played American rap and pop music. So he parked their yacht at
Sainte Maxime
and summoned a driver to take them to the nightspot. He and Carlo observed her from the corner of the discothèque. Marietta moved with the grace of a ballerina and the sexual tease of a street whore. It excited him when they were in private and irked him in public. But she was a free spirit that loved to dance. And he wasn’t in the mood to fight with her about such trival bullshit.

“She’s a wild one,” Carlo said. He took a sip of his lager.

“She’s tame with me. I can handle her,” Lorenzo answered. His reply may not have been loud enough to be heard over the music. The song switched to a loud thumping techno beat and Marietta squealed. She jumped on her feet in high-heeled pointed shoes. The bounce of her breasts drew the eyes of many men. Lorenzo groaned. He would indeed have to end her dancing soon. Marietta flung her long dark curly locks from side to side like a rock star. Once she opened up to him, trusted him, he got to know a remarkable, exciting, vulnerable woman. A woman he could trust. Who he felt he could actually love.

“You sure about that?” Carlo chuckled.

“Sure about what?” Lorenzo frowned.

“You can handle her?” Carlo’s gaze never left Marietta. He stared at her in a way that Lorenzo didn’t appreciate.

A man stepped to Marietta and she pushed him away keeping up with her sexy dance moves. The guy leered. Lust and possibly alcohol made his body language clear of his intent. Lorenzo lowered his cigar and his gaze narrowed on the scene. The stranger tried to touch Marietta again and she slapped him hard. The guy was stunned by her sudden attack. He stumbled back into a dancing couple. Lorenzo tensed. Marietta pointed to his table when the man looked to make a move. The
bastardo
glanced his way. He hesitated. Lorenzo and Carlo stared back. They both waited for the man to decide. In a flash either of them would be happy to teach the stranger manners. The tense pause held and then broke. The man turned and walked off. Marietta began to dance again.

Carlo laughed. “She can take care of herself. Maybe I should put her out in the streets with Ringo, teach him how to never make the mistake of trusting a motherfucker like Carmine did.”

Lorenzo smiled. He’d put an end to the night soon. Marietta had been drinking and if allowed to continue with her partying she could be a viper with her tongue. He’d hate to have to snap a man’s neck for not understanding her charm. But first he needed to hear the answers he dreaded.
Why had Giovanni ignored him for so long? How was the family making it without him?
“Tell me what’s going on with my cousin?”

“Gio has his concerns,” Carlo answered.

“About me?” Lorenzo scoffed. “
Interessante.
The one sent on a fool’s errand is indeed a fool. Why should he be concerned now?”

“He thinks you will defy him and return to Sicily, with her.” Carlo tossed his chin upward toward the dancing temptress. “Why is that, Lo?”

“You know I can’t speak on it,” Lorenzo grumbled.

Carlo rubbed his jaw. He fished out his lighter and picked up his cigar to relight it. Lorenzo took another drag of his own and considered taking Carlo into confidence. He had to keep Marietta’s identity a secret from her and the rest of the family. The secret kept her alive. But for how long was he expected to play this charade? And could he truly trust Giovanni to reunite the sisters? Especially when he had no motivation to do so.

“That’s not all. Things are not good, Lo,” Carlo began after a deep exhale. “In fact things are far worse.”

“
Dica
,” Lorenzo said.

“It’s Santo. He’s the
capo bastone
now. Giovanni’s left hand.”

“Where the fuck is Domi?”

“Oh he’s off trying to wash the blood from Gio’s money. Santo keeps the peace with the clans. What Tomosino created is fractured, what Giovanni wants to instill is the Sicilian way. The clans of the
Camorra
don’t like the power Giovanni has as
capo di tutti capi
. And now Gio’s dividing territory we bled for? The other families war over the business we’re dropping. Including the gambling houses.”

“
Che cosa!
Did you say the gambling houses? Those are my fucking gambling houses in Napoli!” Lorenzo slammed his fist down on the table. “Giovanni can’t give them up. It’s a power move that the lower clans would seize and destroy. What of our men? What will they do?”

Carlo nodded his head in agreement. “We aren’t in that business anymore. The men have other tasks assigned to them by Santo. Things that I have no insight into.”

“The drugs I understand. The whores, I can live with his decision, but I don’t agree. The gambling houses? He’s fucking out of his mind! What is left?” Lorenzo shouted.

“Dominic and Giovanni have opened the
Donna’s
company in Milano, it’s called
Fabiana’s
.” Carlo added, staring hard to read his reaction.

“
Basta!
Are we going to be fucking women making dresses like his wife?”

The comment against their leader should bring about scorn or worse from Carlo. But they’d been best friends since childhood. With Carlo he could speak freely, to a point. He wiped his hand down his face. “The triangle. What goes on there? The
`Ndrangheta
won’t give up Milano. No matter what Giovanni promises them. And I know the Bonaduces wait for a chance at revenge. He isn’t blind to this. Is he?”

“Santo and Domi have talked Gio into furthering legitimate investments. A few more vineyards, a couple more properties, a few land deals up through Tuscany. A resort and vacation place for tourism in Florence. I believe Santo keeps peace for Giovanni with the
`Ndrangheta
by letting the fuckers grow their product on land in Genoa.”

“Heroin?” Lorenzo asked.

Carlo nodded his head. “I hear the Nigerians are still sniffing around. I can’t prove any of it. Santo’s men are loyal.”

“Then why say it to me if you can’t prove it?” Lorenzo asked.

“There are rumors that Santo might start his own clan. But those rumors never reach Giovanni’s ear, just mine,” Carlo said.

Lorenzo considered the information. His cousin’s trust of his inner circle was always a blind spot for manipulation. It’s how Lorenzo was able to get fucked up with the Calderones and go undetected by Gio. It was also how he’d been able to hide his part in Tomosino’s death from Giovanni for years. “If Santo played peacemaker with the
`Ndrangheta
without bloodshed then it stands to reason he’s cut a side deal,” Lorenzo said. “And we both know trafficking is all the
`Ndrangheta
cares about.”