Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don (9 page)

BOOK: Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don
12.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

***

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rich may live in understated opulence or grandeur. The chandelier with multiple sparkling crystals hanging from the dome shaped ceiling inside the reception room spoke grandeur. Men in tux, women in expensive ball gowns gliding across the floor or sitting a
round circular tables holding martinis were members of high society. In the crowd, a European starlet mingled.

An unaccompanied blonde guest in a fitted gown ascended the wide stairs of the heavily fortified estate. She gave her name to the gentleman at the door, and he nodded without checking the guest list and she was gestured inside. Luzo and his companion were on her heels, inhaling her floral scent.

Luzo gave his name. There was a skeptical inspection of the finely dressed couple, before the guest list was referenced, Luzo’s name was found and then a perfunctory nod. “Entre,” the doorman said.

The blonde floated up the long corridor toward the open French doors where people and music were. Luzo walked leisurely across the soft Persian carpet admiring her derrière with a smirk. The
young woman on his arm held tightly, nervous jitters easily detected in her speech.

“This is so exciting. I have never attended anything this elaborate. Grazie.”

“That is hard to believe. You appear right at home,” Luzo replied to boost her confidence. “I am sure we will have a wonderful time. Do you dance?”

“Sí.”

“Bene, we will dance.”

Helena gave him a smile of adoration. It was somewhat unsettling. He did not want her to fall in love. Maybe, he should have chosen another woman, one who understood an evening together was not to be misconstrued as a pledge of eternal fidelity.

His eyes were on the woman who had given her name. Signora Gina Bocelli. A bold and confident donna. He observed how easily she moved about, charming other attendees her dazzling smile when she entered the ball room. Luzo became intrigued, that is how it begins. Something interesting captures his attention; the self-assured way a donna glides or a witty comment that brought a grin and even a sultry voice may send warmth through his body. The sensation was inexplicable. But, when he thought of happiness; he thought of the musicality of his mama. Maybe…he sighed…it was okay to talk inside…there was nobody to hear his inner thoughts. No one could reprimand a man for the truth of his heart. Inside the sheltered doors, sealed by iron and forged with steel was a boy simply missing the love of his mama…a boy missing family…a boy unable to find his way home. There were snippets of home in the women he bedded, but in the morning the comfort dissipated and then he moved on.

He hoped his brothers were not saddled with this affliction, this inability to love a donna wholeheartedly. He had tried
to change…many times he failed.

They entered the huge room where
gents in tux, ladies in expensive gowns danced and talked. Circular tables in a U formation allowed for dancing and a view of the musicians in their finery as well.

Money was in everything, even the haughtiness of the donnas and the conceited Dons. He had expected this type of affair, with diamonds adorning exposed necks or pearls. Never envy another’s wealth. Do not believe you are lesser because you do not have a
golden coffer. The thickness of a money clip does not measure self-worth, are what his parents taught. But, to move in the circle of elitist, arrogance is needed, for that is how he had to deal with social climbers to learn the truth about who killed his family. Eventually, someone talked. Braggarts name drop. They must feel important when they are not.

Gina Bocelli had taken a seat and was engaged in conversation with Umberto Cigliari and his wife when she spied the dapper guest advancing in their direction. She dismissed the homely girl holding the arm of the strikingly handsome uomo. She hid her interest by laughing at a joke by the hostess. As the couple halted at the table, Gina’s breath became shallow by the beauty of the dark Sicilian. His hair was as thick and black as tar but with a shimmer of a night ocean. Sharp cheekbones on a masculine face were a
donna’s envy. The piercing blue eyes had settled on her and she received the honor of his dimpled smile after thanking the host and hostess. He had begun speaking to her, mesmerized; Gina heard nothing and missed the introduction.

Like a simpleton she muttered. “Buongiorno Signore.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you Signora Bocelli, this is Signora Meza,” Luzo said and she blushed stupidly. He was making an introduction and she had not heard his name she was so enamored.

“Grazie…grazie,” she replied when Luzo’s lips pursed closed. Her mind was on the gentle pucker of his mouth that promised a
lady a night of succulent kisses.

Umberto
Cigliari rose, gestured to a waiter who hurried over. “Make certain to bring the donnas anything they want,” he said and then asked Helena’s permission to steal her escort for a moment.

“Certainly,” Helena answered.

“Please Signora Meza, you must sit with us,” Don Cigliari’s wife said magnanimously.

Like a gentleman Luzo held the seat aloft for Helena. The swath of silk was drawn to the side by dainty hands of his shy companion. She had a look of astonishment that she was to share a table with a well-respected financier’s wife and socialite.

Inwardly, Luzo smiled. Helena was from the quaint province of Caccamo who he met days ago in the market. She was kind and sweet, somewhat reserved, but pleasant company. When he had asked her to dinner, he had to receive permission from her father, which is expected when an unmarried donna resides at home.

When Luzo arrived to pick her up today
, the entire clan, two brothers, three sisters, an aunt, parents and elders were assembled for an Italian inquisition. After an hour, he passed the family’s inspection and Helena finally appeared.

She looked lovely, except her attire was too plain, and inappropriate for a formal affair. He complimented her; that is respectful to do. Manners are always practiced; women are sensitive to these platitudes.

Once they were underway, he made a detour to a shop and as tactful as possible chose the gown she now wore. He also purchased the shoes, necklace and asked the more experienced female shopkeeper to apply her make-up properly.  This Helena appeared more sophisticated and unlike a twenty-one year old child.

Luzo sat as the band played a romantic ballad. Although, Helena was nice he would never see her again, she was far too
awestruck. Besides, he did not want problems with her brothers or a gun to his head as he marched up an aisle of a church.

That is never good.

“Come,” Cigliari said as he walked away from the table.

“Mi scusi,” Luzo said to Helena. “When I return, we dance.”

“I look forward to it.” She beamed like a sheltered girl.

Ah, Luzo thought, starry eyes lead to rivers of tears.

Cigliari gave subtle nods to dark men and compliments to ladies as they walked the polished floor to a private room off the main hall.

The door closed and
Cigliari went to the oak bar against the wall. “Drink?” he asked.

“Bourbon, grazie.”

Don Cigliari fixed two drinks and waited for Luzo to claim a stool at the bar where sparkly glasses hung overhead.

They both sipped.

Cigliari spoke, “I understand your company seeks the contracts to revitalize the old borgatas near the Amalfi Coast. Having connections in Parliament does not guarantee a contract is not broken.”

“That is true.”

“It is not often that a young man without inheritance rises so quickly without protection from Mafia. This piques my interest.” Cigliari smiled. “But, then again you are charming and smart. Attributes which have taken you far.” Don Cigliari finished his drink. “But just as the sun rises, it also sets. Men of honor are a small breed, a society of like-minded businessmen prefer order. Show commitment to Sicily…an appropriate donna of a good famiglia of ummm say the Bocelli’s?”

Under other circumstances Luzo may have taken offense to Cigliari’s suggestion, but he had considered this when he noticed Gina Bocelli’s finger unadorned by a ring. First
he must ensure she was suitable. That he believed could be done in a matter of days.

“I will take this under consideration.”

“Bene. Powerful men have a donna. A man cannot be all about business. Besides those in politics, the Camorra, 'Ndrangheta, Stidda, and the Sacra Corona Unita have discovered this as well. Image, is important and the right donna is a man’s best asset, capisce?”

“Capisco.”

The squinted gaze, alert Luzo there was more to come.

He was right.

“The incident that occurred with your associate is not what men of honor take lightly. Signore Dichenzo’s brazen attack on Don Casentini’s Capo recently has raised concerns. He is alive, for now as a show of generosity. But, as you so eloquently stated during our formal introduction, there must be a return. Rein in your Underboss because that is what he is to you Don Palazzo. An associate would never exercise such boldness unless he is certain he has backing. Speak to him about respeta. If you are serious about conducting business, ensure those under your control do not spark wars they cannot win.”

Luzo was aware of his brother’s assault on Don Casentini’s underling, but Carlo is his own man. Besides, the Capo’s provocation instigated the attack. Civil conversation cannot always be had with an uncivilized person, the Capo deserved the come-uppance.

“A man of honor never invites an equally honorable uomo to meet and then behave dishonorably.”

“But are they equal Signore Palazzo?”

“All men are equal, titles are only names.”

“Organizations have a hierarchy as does families. Unbalance these traditions and chaos rules.”

“Chaos rules when there is disrespect or belief that someone is lesser. To rule with balance requires understanding that it is foolish to attack a man’s pride and expect he will not do the same.”

“The Capo is an extension of a Don’s limbs. Don Casentini has taken offense. Thus, there could be retaliation, no?”

Luzo frowned. He did not like threats.  “Certainly, Don Casentini would be wise to understand that his sensitivities are unwarranted. Signore Dichenzo is a proud man and so am I. However, if he chooses to allow such a small thing to become a vendetta he is not fit to rule.”

“You speak like a
former acquaintance of mine Don Signore Palazzo.”

“Actions are what make a Don not speeches Don Cigliari.
You use the word former, which implies you have parted ways.”

“A mutual split,” the Don said.

“Unlike the separations between a man and woman.”

Don Cigliari
smirked. Ah, sí, he could use a man like Luzo. There was truth in his words. “Show me what you are willing to do for this small peace and I will assure Signore Dichenzo remains healthy. A week from now we speak again, perhaps there will be a ring on Don Bocelli’s lovely daughter’s finger. Who knows, perhaps a speedy union can assist in bringing favor upon the house of Palazzo and Dichenzo.”

After their talk, Luzo returned as promised to dance the evening away with Helena. Not once did Luzo behave inappropriately.

Helena’s virtue remained intact.

He refused to allow a sweet girl to distract him from a pledge.

Vengeance requires a sacrifice of the soul; therefore he let loose a lamb to avoid innocence’s blood touching his skin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
NINE

 

 

 

 

“What do you mean you have married?” Carlo asked as he walked through
the open space of Luzo’s recent purchase.

The beautiful estate Luzo bought sat on hectares of land. The elevated property allowed the homeowners to look
down upon the landscaped valley and hills of Palermo. The breathtaking view he could envision a loving couple enjoying at night, wrapped in a loving embrace after sharing an intimate moment. This talk of marriage as a business merger was unsettling to Carlo’s ears. They did not need to go to such extremes in order to take back what was rightfully theirs. His sorrow was Luzo deserved better. He had met the Signora Gina Bocelli. He saw a viper’s eyes, a lovely poisonous snake. And her father was no more than a lowly indebted Don.

Carlo halted by one of the paned windows. “Fratello, you have yet to say you love her.”

“I will. There is already affection.”

“Affection is what I have for dogs, not people.”

Luzo laughed. “I am surprised to hear this. All I see are scowls upon your face. I thought anger pleases you.”

“This is not a joke. There is nothing funny in giving a
jewel seeking donna your name simply for ambition.”

BOOK: Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don
12.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Temperate Warrior by Renee Vincent
Heaven Eyes by David Almond
Apron Anxiety by Alyssa Shelasky
Hilda and Pearl by Alice Mattison
Nubes de kétchup by Annabel Pitcher
Six for Gold by Mary Reed & Eric Mayer
Any Way You Want It by Maureen Smith
Duma Key by Stephen King