Page 90

February 16, 1983

Napoli, Italy

“Count minchione!” Lorenzo shoved the nozzle of the gun so deep into the man’s mouth he gagged. Others stood around watching, waiting. “Figlio di puttana!”

Two Russians lie dead in the freezer, both with their throats cut and bullets to their backs. Giovanni still had blood on his hands, pants, and shoes. His chest bulked. He wanted a confession. He needed a confession. And though he should be nowhere near this bloodbath, he intended to see it through. Lorenzo knew this. Felt his need for revenge that ate away at his soul like a cancer. His cousin had found the bastards and tied them down in the bakery. He summoned him without the men. Fed the monster in him that made him Don Tomosino’s son.

Lorenzo glanced back to him. “He’s the one Giovanni, the one who pulled the trigger. He’s the one who took Papa from us.”

“He’s mine!” Giovanni said.

“No.” Flavio entered the freezer with Dominic and Carlo behind him. Giovanni was in such a murderous daze he didn’t hear the old man speak. He gripped the gun tighter. “Don’t do it, Gio.”

Lorenzo removed the gun from the man’s mouth. He glanced back at the men then to Giovanni. All of this unfolded as the Russian dropped his head, gagging and gasping for breath.

“Gio?” Flavio said, he walked over, stood before him. “Listen to me. Your word is law. You do not have to do this. Let the boys finish him off. Bring you his head, his hands, and his feet. But you must remain clean.”

“He deserves vengeance!” Lorenzo shouted.

“We all do.” Carlo spoke out of turn.

Giovanni breathed through his nose. He tracked the Russian with his eyes as the coward backed away on his knees.

“And he shall have it! That is why you are number two! It is your job to do this for your Don! Do you hear me!” Flavio snapped. He eased the gun from Giovanni’s hand. “Lead these men, Gio, don’t become one of them to do it.”

Giovanni remembered the gunshots. How his father fell and blood pooled like a river of red draining from his body and running streams down the streets. He remembered the suffering of his poor mother, how confused and desperate she and his sister had become. Together they wept at his father’s bedside. Eventually his mama had to be medicated in order to be taken out of the room. He remembered Catalina crawling in bed with him shivering, begging him to make Papa well again. And he remembered the day they lowered his father into the ground. All of it boiled up into a storm that strangled his heart. He shoved Flavio from in front of him. He grabbed the two ice picks on the steel freezer and charged the man. The Russian didn’t scream, he didn’t beg for mercy. In fact Giovanni could have sworn as he charged him the man knew his fate and smiled. Without delay he shoved both ice picks into his eyes and pinned the murderer to the ground. Men converged on him and he managed to throw them off in time to get his gun, the one given to him by his grandfather. The one called ‘Danny-boy’. He unloaded the clip into the dead man.

Silence fell over those in the freezer. Giovanni stumbled back, rising from the darkness that had engulfed him. He saw the carnage, the one he’d committed and suppressed the gag in his throat. He’d killed men. He’d done it with his own hands. He’d become what his mother always feared. When he glanced up he could see the dark approval gleaming in Lorenzo’s eyes. He could see the satisfaction in Carlo’s smile. And he could see the profound disappointment in Flavio’s scowl. Unable to stomach it he turned and walked out.

Giovanni sucked down a deep breath. Lorenzo wouldn’t betray him. There had to be an explanation for all of this. His cousin was loyal. They all were. They had to be. He stared at Danny-boy. Otherwise he’d have the final word.

Chapter Eleven

Mira slipped on her gown. She looked at her frizzy hair and felt tired from the sight of it. She showered and tried hard to forget the scene she witnessed. Catalina and Dominic? What had she seen? Mira flipped off the light switch and walked back into the room. Catalina stormed into the room and paced by the bed. Her face was streaked with tears.

“Please! Please don’t tell him. Please! He’ll kill Domi. Please!”

Stunned, Mira froze.

“I can explain. I can…” Catalina gripped her hair on both sides, pulling until her eyes stretched. “It’s not Domi’s fault. He didn’t want it. He never did, but I wouldn’t stop. I’ve loved him since I was two. I’ve always loved him. He’s a brother to Giovanni and Lorenzo. He was raised by them. They will see this as incest, but it isn’t. We aren’t blood related. He’s adopted. It’s not… and… oh my God. Oh my God Gio will find out!”

“Calm down.” Mira hurried to her. She drew her into an embrace. Catalina clung to her, crying into her shoulder. “I didn’t tell Domi you saw us. He is guilty enough. He’d be foolish and confess to my brother. They’d kill him. Please Mira.”

“Okay. I won’t say a word. Listen to me. It’s okay.” She pulled her face from her shoulder and cupped it in her hands. “It will be okay.”

Catalina nodded. Mira guided her to the bed and let her sit. “Are you in love with him?”

“Yes. And he loves me.”

“Then why not go to your brother and tell him?”

“I couldn’t! I can’t! I’m to be married.”

“Marry Dominic?”

Catalina frowned. “It doesn’t work that way. Giovanni is following my father’s orders. He always does what is expected and so do I. That’s how it works. He’s in danger constantly, Mira. The families, well they don’t respect him. He has to do things to keep his respect or it’s the end of us all. And if the families found out about me and Domi, and I backed out on my wedding then Giovanni will be shamed. The entire family would be. Don’t you understand? We can’t be together. Ever.”

“When did this start? When did you two begin this affair?”