Atavus (11 page)

Selange’s eyes sparkled whenever she gazed at her husband he noticed more brilliantly nowadays. She was happy; so was Alfonzo. They didn’t have to say what anyone with eyes could see was real. There’s something unbreakable about that couple and Nico would make sure they stayed that way by doing his job and removing the threats.

He stared through the tinted glass, thinking of Vincent, believing he’d say, “You didn’t kill me. I died doing my job, protecting you and Alfonzo.”

Nico’s nostrils flared. He really needed to speak privately with Selange.  There were always guards or family around. Nico wanted ask what she had read so far, but he needed her confidentiality when he did so.

Selange was a smart woman, no wonder her and Ari had become thick as thieves, literally. Ari might actually be a potentially bad influence. Ari had a side only Nico fully understood.

The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a manned cement enclosure. Nico addressed the men who suddenly surrounded their vehicle. He used the southern dialect to speak with the lead guard toting a machine gun.

More men rushed the vehicle with guns drawn when the guard shouted, “You are not Nicolo Serano!”

Nico exhaled. He allowed his hair to grow after the military fade and then the Mohawk phase. The trim and sharp tapered edges of his hair occurred at the skilled hands of a barber only because he wanted to surprise Ari when she arrived home. He really missed his wife and kids. He was beginning to unravel.

Nico didn’t make any sudden movements neither did Tony. Instead, he said, “
Guarda
,
io
indosso
l'anello
.” He convinced the dummies by showing them his middle finger displaying the Serano crest carved on 24 carats of kiss my ass gold.

The sputtered apology occurred forthwith.

Chapter Nine

“Amelda, what do you mean you cannot attend?” Sophie asked as Amelda entered with a rolling suitcase and Ignacio dressed for travel.

She plopped the stylish boy who resembled Matteo in a chair opposite Yosef who had recently finished a large plate of stuffed zucchini with rice and meat, known as dolma that his wife prepared.

“Ignacio and I will be in Paris and then I will visit Malaysia to purchase textiles,” Amelda answered, sweeping her healthy ebony hair over her shoulder as she marched to the cabinet.

“What about Nicolo’s birthday party?” Sophie inquired, handing her grandson a slice of an orange.

“Blame yourself mama for inviting that slut Lucia!”

“Lucia is famiglia. The party is for Nico who we love.”

Amelda had a dilemma; the assortment of pastries had led to indecision. She chose a baguette with cheese. “Nico will survive my absence. Besides, I am not in a celebratory mood, I mourn for my husband, remember mama my great amore? I have placed Nico’s present in your room. He always wanted one of papa’s guns.”

“Shalom Amelda. Safe travels,” Yosef said when she sat. He stood and then circled the table to kiss Sophie’s high cheekbone. “That was delicious. I will see you this evening.”

Sophie held on to his wrist a bit longer in an affectionate sign that she was reluctant to see him leave. She hoped his exit was not on Amelda’s account, however, she understood Yosef tended to his business during afternoon and evening hours. Sometimes he arrived home very late. “Ciao,” she replied letting her eyes follow his exit, hoping he stayed out of trouble for the sake of peace with her family.

Yosef grumbled. If Amelda were his daughter, he’d give her a lashing for her brashness. The door had not yet shut when he overheard the rude woman say, “
I cannot believe you cook this disgusting food. There is nothing kosher about it
!”

“
Silenzio, have respeta Amelda
!”

Yosef hurried to his fortified car before he returned to swat Amelda’s tush, which he would do if he had children, no matter the age if they were disrespectful.

He grumbled and started his car. He did not have chauffeured minions or bodyguards for escorts to navigate the provinces. He practiced precaution; however, in the glove compartment were his tinted glasses and several weapons.

The men who secured his wife’s home watched as he pulled out the gate. In the rearview mirror, he saw the cell go to the mouth of a guard to report his departure to undoubtedly Giuseppe the Great. He scoffed at the idea that Giuseppe believed his self-importance affected the fearless.

Yosef had a responsibility to fulfill and an unbreakable contract with distributors around the world.

Outsmarting Giuseppe gave Yosef many smiles. They were on his lips when he caressed his wife and ate the best meals of his life. Ah, Sophie, the lovely and sexy woman was more than a delight. Years more he would have her, because it is always what he wanted since young. There is a pleasure in having experience to satisfy a woman in maturity. The elation of a touch has the effect of a mortar blast to the gut. The adage youth is wasted on the young must have come from an old dummy who forgot he was once a child. To envy what is past is not the wisdom acquired in seniority. Yosef could reflect to his minor years and see that maturity is far more beneficial than an ignorant mind.

He took a turn at a thicket of trees, and then a left for a less traveled road that would lead to the coast. The arrival of special cargo at six required his presence. The escorts were men who would serve as his personal bodyguards. A former cellmate’s son Eisbär traveled among them on a yacht. He chuckled, certain that Eisbär would ensure the men did not deface his property.

The lodging and connections supplied by cohorts were in place.  He arranged everything right under Giuseppe’s nostrils. Besides, Giuseppe was distracted with his family.

Yosef smiled. Mafiya power is not limited to Italia. Having Eisbär to converse in Yiddish was like having family to share in Yom Kippur.

Chapter Ten

Giuseppe returned home from work after hearing Harold had made a comment to an alleged assault via the social networks that many use as their personal TMI networks. Truly, who is so bored that he will care someone ate at a restaurant, and the nature of the meal? Aye, these maddening people would tell the feds and other strangers where to find them on the loo.

Harold the worm went into seclusion somewhere in America, but Giuseppe would find him, it was only a matter of time.

In the meantime, he made reservations, arranged for a sitter for Carlo and hurried through the house calling his donna’s name. “Nicole, mi amore, where are you?”

He swiftly crossed the floor to peer into the cucina and then hurried to the den where she sat with her back to the door talking on her cell. “Tiff, I’ll call you later.”

She didn’t turn around, instead she crossed her arms and reclined.

Giuseppe entered, walked to the sofa and peered down. His voice was gruff, that tone is from birth and shouting at adult idiots. “Buongiorno.”

“Um, glad you’re able to go about your life without a care in the world after yesterday and my cancelled performance.”

He spread his legs to balance as he deliberated the weight of each word. “Harold is not dead, neither is your career. I will make him retract what he said, capisce?”

Nicole’s stubborn chin tilted. She soaked in the image of her handsome husband. Giuseppe was very good –looking but when she looked closer; he was really bad and spoiled. Yes, she accepted his thuggish mannerisms and brusqueness because she saw deeper than he believed. He was accustomed to barking and everybody moving out of his way. Giuseppe’s stature alone intimidated people, add in his well-deserved fucked up reputation and ‘voila’ you have the stereotypical mafia asshole. She hated to leave, but her anger wouldn’t allow her to stay until he corrected his mistake. Maybe, his mother should have taken a belt to his bottom. Sophie was too soft on Giuseppe.

“I’m taking Carlo to visit my parents for a few days. My cousin’s daughter is turning three and I think Carlo will enjoy being around other children.”

Giuseppe blinked. “Cosa?”

She stood. “I’ve already packed a few things and I wanted to wait for you to come home before we left.”

Giuseppe panicked. The distress flashed in his eyes. “No, you cannot go…you will not leave!”

Nicole stood her ground. It killed her inside to hurt him; however, Giuseppe had to learn there were consequences in a marriage when a husband seeks to control his wife’s life as if she didn’t have a mind of her own. Years of low paying gigs, being away from her family for days, sometimes months to travel or perform with lesser-known orchestras is how she finally achieved a measure of success as a musician and a reputable manager. That career she built, Giuseppe trampled under those big feet without a care. 

She frowned. “I will leave, but I am not leaving you.”

Giuseppe seized her, holding tight, apologizing profusely in Italian, but she disengaged, and said, “I’m going to get Carlo. Don’t try to force me to stay Geo, accept that you screwed up and work on fixing it.”

He shook with impotent rage. He grabbed the nearby lamp, flinging it across the room and then overturned the sofa in an adult temper-tantrum. She walked out, determined more than ever to teach her husband a lesson. Sometimes tough love is required for a roughneck.

Giuseppe punched the wall, scraping his knuckles, shouting that she go and never come back and then retracting the statement with a plea that she reconsider her cruel act.

He wrecked the den, smashing furniture because he needed to strike at things until they died. His heart was breaking like the splintered wood and glass. The anger inside had erupted into a maddening howl that had the guards fearful for the woman and child.

They were unaware Giuseppe’s rage was sorrow. He would never harm his moglie or slaughter her as he had done to those at his sorella’s estate.

He was the bull again, breaking everything in sight to rid himself of the pain in his head that tore at his mind.

Nicole descended the stairs with Carlo who was dressed in a child’s attire and not a suit. He jumped and she spun around at another loud crash that shook the floor when they reached the landing. The small hand clutched hold to her leg. “Mama, mama!” He cried with fearful eyes caused by his asshole of a father. Giuseppe was having a hissy fit and pissing her off.

More guards rushed inside as Giuseppe stood in her path, cursing and causing mayhem to the living room. He kicked his foot through a wall, shouting that she never loved him, telling all their business and embellishing his innocence.

None of the people progressed toward their boss instead they looked to Nicole. Giuseppe tossed a broken chair with his angry rant. He was out of control and she had enough of his crap.

Nicole gestured for the Capo, instructed him to take a frightened Carlo to the limo. The boy hesitated and she brandished a reassuring smile as his father swore with such foul language, she considered striking him in his filthy mouth.

"It's okay Carlo; go on, daddy is in pain. He did not take his headache medication but I will make sure he does...go ahead...he'll be better soon. I promise."

The boy exited with the guard, looking worriedly over his shoulder at his new
mama
.

Once alone in the company of a raging psycho, she marched to where he pound the wall. As stern as a teacher, she told him, “Throw another piece of furniture, tear down this house, go ahead and I swear I’ll have you committed."

Winded, he panted. "You cannot go. You will not dare walk out on me like Shanda did so many times!" His fiery eyes were sparks from an internal gun, which did not cause her to flinch or run. Instead she folded her arms as he heaved, spent by his useless destruction.

She scanned the once beautifully decorated living room. It was trashed. Perhaps he did not understand, she wasn't divorcing him. She was upset, angry in fact at what he'd done and needed a moment to deal with the repercussions. Giuseppe single-handedly killed her career, the controlling bastard with real bullets.

"I'm not Shanda you sonovabitch. I don't care what kind of trauma or drama you suffered in that relationship. My name is Nicole and we’re talking about me –me! Geo, you crossed the line. You can't break everything because you don't like it. Did you ever stop to think that music is a huge part of who I am and you may have ruined my reputation?"

"I will locate a manager who does as told."