Page 20

Della

He had to go and do it. Piss off the Mafia guy. I tried to control my trembling as everyone in the room stared at us.

The rude guy, who I assumed was Tony Begatti, glared at Dante. “You will be respectful of me. I am a top member of this council.”

“And you will be respectful to my fiancée, Mr. Begatti,” Dante replied in an even tone. “She is not on trial here and no one believes what you are accusing her of.”

“It is not up to you to say what anyone believes.” Begatti glared at him. “For all you know, we have evidence that points to that conclusion.”

“Oh, I hardly think so,” Dante countered. “Or else this would have been her on trial. And as far as we know, this is merely an inquiry into attempted murder upon her, my cousins and myself.”

Mr. Begatti looked angry as he curled his fingers into fists on the table.

This was not going well. I grasped Dante’s hand and squeezed it. I needed to stop him and now.

Pausing, he looked down at me.

Shaking my head at him, I then turned to look at this mafia guy and used the calmest voice I could, “I worked for Deacon as an accountant only. In fact, I never knew Ophelia or him were into criminal activity. I did the books for their legit companies. I haven’t communicated with Deacon since he was released from the Descalia estate. We were never close or had any affiliation beyond the accountant job. The attack yesterday in the parking garage was something I had no clue about either. I plan to marry Dante Descalia. I love him very much and I would NEVER hurt him or his wonderful family.”

Mr. Begatti stared at me.

I admit I met his hard gaze and felt like I was looking into the eyes of the devil himself. I held my ground and did not look away, knowing that might implicate me as guilty.

One minute ran into two. Finally, he gave me a nod and sat back in his seat.

Another man at the table looked around and asked, “Any more questions?”

No one seemed to have any.

The skinny, bald man in the black suit stood to nod at us and said, “You are excused.”

My knees almost buckled in relief and Dante had to steady me as he then escorted me back out to the hall.

Finally, the double doors closed behind us with a click. I gasped and wrapped my arms around Dante’s neck. “Oh, my God!” My body sank a bit as I actually slumped.

Dante chuckled as he again hefted me up. “Are you okay?”

I was still shaking. “I really don’t know. I have never faced the mafia before. How could you do that? You were arguing with him, Dante!”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it arguing really. I defended you and I refused to allow him to accuse you of that shit. It figures he had some made up story. That nasty asswipe has falsely accused many people. So I knew he was gonna try something. I’ve seen him in action before—”

I placed my fingers over his lips.

He grinned at me.

“He could have put you into brick boots,” I warned him.

He stared at me then laughed as he corrected me, “It’s cement shoes, Della.”

“Whatever,” I said in disgust. “Look, I agree that Luca is rude but he was right about this. You almost got jacked in there.”

“Whacked, Della.” He laughed even harder.

I smacked his chest and had to snicker a bit myself. “I’m still nervous and it’s not like I’m Italian and know all this stuff.”

He grasped my hand and led me down the hall.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Back out to the copter,” he replied. “To wait for father. I want to take you home.”

Suddenly, I realized we were in the hall of legends and I slowed down.

Dante pulled up when I stopped. “What is it?”

I nodded at the wall. “This is fascinating. The old mobster paintings. I saw plaques beneath them when we came through here.” I leaned in close and read one of them, “Salvatore ‘Sally Bugs’ Briguglio, a former Italian-American mobster and hitman for the Genovese crime family.”

“Yeah, he’s a fun one. The name Sally Bugs was pretty good too.” Dante smiled.

“Who is the Genovese Family?”

“At one time, there were the Five Families,” Dante explained. “In New York. Let’s say they were the original mafia.”

I nodded and read the rest of ‘Sally Bugs’ plaque, “A business agent for the Teamsters in the 1970’s. He is known for being one of the prime suspects in the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa. Briguglio was also known for being a ruthless killer. He is reported to have killed over 50 people for the Genovese crime family, in some cases torturing his victims. Cause of death—”

“—the usual,” Dante interjected with a chuckle. “Gangland style killing or better known as gunshot wounds .” He smirked at me. “I think most of the gambos on this wall all died the same way. In a hail of bullets and by an icepick to the neck. Or dropped into the sea with brick boots as you called them. When I was maybe ten years old, my dad used to bring me here when he had meetings. And would spend hours here fascinated by the stories. Let me show you a couple of my favorites. I mean just the names are fucking hilarious. Like Fifi.”

I paused and stared at him. “Fifi, like the poodle name?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, except he was no sweet poodle.” Dante moved along the hall then stopped. “Here he is.”

I followed closely and stared at the painting he pointed at.

“Fiore Fifi Buccieri,” Dante announced his name and read the plaque, “A member of the Chicago Outfit who specialized in loansharking . Fifi, along with Jackie The Lackey Cerone , James Turk Torello , and Samuel Mad Sam DeStefano were a cruel group, who scared sharking clients with threats of cattle prod torture.” Dante turned to grin at me. “See? The names are fantastic! Like Richie the Boot and Joe Bananas.” He motioned along the hall as he laughed. “The Doberman, Louie Ha-Ha and Zombie Bilotti. Yeah, that guy was especially gruesome and I will not tell you why he was called Zombie. Then there were some real doozies with names like Teets, Vinny Gorgeous and get this one…Johnny Sausage.”

“Dante!” a voice called.

We turned to see Luca coming down the hallway.

He came closer then shook his head as he asked, “I cannot believe you were spouting off to Begatti like that!”

Dante raised his hands up at him. “Save it, brother. He was accusing Della of something nasty.”

Luca shook his head and then paused to look around. “Are you wall clubbing again?”

I looked back over at Dante. “Wall clubbing?”

He hooked his arm through mine and replied to Luca, “Della was super curious and you know I love these old gambinos.”

Luca shook his head. “A day and age that I am glad is gone. These guys were not just animals, they were filthy animals.”

“I know bro, but they were a lively bunch back in the day,” Dante said. “And besides, Mr. Descalia might be up there someday.”

Luca scoffed. “I sure as hell hope not. And you know that scalpel thing is pure bullshit, Dante.”

“You mean you have never carried a scalpel?” Dante teased him.

He shook his head. “Nope, just a magnum like you do.”

“Are you sure you don’t hide it in your boot?” Dante asked.

“You know I don’t wear boots, brother.” Luca winked at him.

“What I wanna know is will Rocky and I get a plaque?”

We all looked over at the cousin-bodyguards as they walked up to where we all stood.

Tito smiled at us. “Ok, so I never tortured anyone and I’m just called Tito, but hey, I save lives!”

Rocky laughed. “Saving lives is just standard for a bodyguard, brother. We are not bloodthirsty enough to make this wall.”

“No, none of us would qualify for this wall. These men were monsters, Tito,” Luca replied. “You all act like this is the hall of heroes instead of the hall of killers.”

“They were history, but they were not smart men,” Stephano said as he joined us. “Many of them never lived beyond 40 years old. You make enemies when you are a killer. Like this Deacon may have made himself a real target now.”

“I thought they wanted him left alone because he’s an FBI Agent,” Dante reminded him.

He shook his head. “Seems they are going to decide if they wanna take him out. He was the one who caused this latest misunderstanding after all.” He looked over at me and Dante. “Your girl did well in there. She’s not only bella, she is smart.”

Dante tucked me closer to his side and replied, “I knew that already.”

I didn’t want to ruin any of this by saying something stupid, so I simply remained silent. They all might think I was smart, but desperation had been my main motivation. Dante, I found, had a supreme sense of humor. He basically exuded kindness and generosity, but when it came to anyone slighting or hurting the people he cared about, he would show you that he had a nasty temper as well.

“So, are we done here?” Dante asked his father.

“Si, for now. We won’t know what they decide until tomorrow maybe.”

“Decide?” I forgot my resolution not to look stupid and ask a dumb question, but concern propelled me to ask, “What do you mean by that? What are they deciding?”

Stephano clasped his hands behind his back and answered me, “This was an incident of violence breaking out among the members of the Southern Famiglia. They are having a full on investigation into the details of this. Like later today when they reconvene, they will call Pippo in to testify. He was the one who agreed to meet Deacon and sent his son in his stead. Then we do not know if it was him who sent his other son to that parking garage. He’s the one in huge trouble here.”

“What about Paulie?” Dante asked. “You took him into custody.”

Stephano shrugged. “I turned him over to the Famiglia yesterday, only an hour after our men brought him to me. I knew this incident would make it to the Council sometime soon. I just finished explaining to them why my men were there at the Hilton. We hurt no one and we did not push for a war.”

“So, can we go home now?” Dante asked.

Stephano stared at him then he looked over at Luca. They both slowly shook their heads.

“Uh, oh,” Dante said. “Why not?”

“This isn’t resolved yet, figlio,” Stephano explained. “So, cars aren’t safe. Until they resolve this, I will not compromise you or your Bella.”

I stared at Stephano and said, “You mean Della.”

He smiled at me as he shook his head and explained, “I wish to call you Bella as it suits you better.”

I paused and gazed up at Dante.

He stared at his father for a full minute.

As the tense silence strained on, I didn’t know what to say or do. I sure didn’t want to be the cause of an argument or—

“—thank you, Papa,” Dante said as he gave his father a nod. He then looked down at me and said, “Bella means beautiful. And for once in a blue moon…” He beamed at me. “I have to agree with my father.”