BELLA MAFIA (49 page)

Sophia arranged with a real estate agent for the apartment to be sold with contents and began to clear out her personal belongings for storage. Rosa helped for a while but grew bored and took herself off for some more shopping.

At noon Teresa returned, the pearls sold. She was ready to leave for Palermo, but she had to wait a further three hours for Rosa to return, laden with suitcases in which to carry her new clothes back to the villa. They spent two more hours sorting through Sophia's stock, this time selecting day clothes as well as evening wear. They also found some accessories left over from the fashion shows.

By midafternoon Rosa and Teresa were ready to leave, but Sophia received a call to say someone was interested in seeing the apartment. She decided to stay on alone and to take the opportunity to call on Nino Fabio.

It was late evening when Teresa and Rosa arrived at the Villa Rivera, and Graziella was already in bed. Teresa checked on Luka; the key had been removed from his door. She stood looking at him, but he lay with his eyes closed, as if sleeping. She stared around the room, then back to the bed, but decided against waking him when she heard Rosa talking to her grandmother.

As soon as Luka heard the door close, he threw aside the bedclothes and got out of bed. He was stronger now and knew he would have no excuse to stay. Teresa would be ready to pay him off.

The next morning Teresa showered and dressed and hurried directly to Luka's room. The door stood ajar; the bed was empty. She rushed down to the breakfast room; to her consternation she found Luka sitting at the table.

He gave her a small smile of recognition and continued to butter his toast. He was wearing an open-necked shirt, and his hair had been cut. In front of him was a notepad, and he was explaining to Graziella his layout for a kitchen garden. Graziella welcomed Teresa and called Adina for a fresh pot of coffee, then returned her attention to the drawings.

Rosa was munching on a bowl of cereal. She looked up at Teresa and beamed. "Good morning, Mama. You sleep well? Did you wear your silk nightgown from Sophia?"

Teresa raised an eyebrow at Luka, and Rosa pulled a face as if she had no idea why he had joined them.

Graziella suddenly pointed to Teresa's head. "Your hair, what have you done to it?"

"It's dyed, Mama," said Teresa frostily. She turned to speak to Luka, but Graziella interrupted.

"I can see that. I don't understand why you can't just be natural, especially at your age."

"All of us, Mama, are not blessed with your natural beauty. Some of us need a little assistance, me more than others."

Luka cocked his head to one side and smiled. "It suits you."

Teresa saw the familiar way he patted Graziella's hand as she said, "Well, if you say so, but Rosa's hair looks better without that dye. Do you see what we did to Johnny's hair? Adina cut it."

Teresa nodded. "I noticed, Mama."

Graziella pulled a face at Luka. She asked, "Has Sophia had her hair dyed?"

"No, Mama, Sophia is still dark. She'll be back as soon as she's arranged to sell her apartment. She's meeting some people about selling the warehouse and reopening her boutiques."

"Oh, we had a visitor. He left you this." Graziella handed over Rocco's calling card. "He wanted to speak with you, about business. I said you were at the tile factory. I didn't like to tell him you were away. Papa never allowed outsiders to know our movements; it's safest. Besides, I didn't like him. Nor did Adina. Maybe we should think about hiring someone to take care of the gates, so we know who is going in and out. Do you agree?"

Teresa murmured her agreement and read the card. "This'll be about the sale of the villa. I told you Domino had agreed to it. I doubt if we can get out of it, unless you particularly want to stay. It's too large just for you."

Graziella blinked and looked down at her cup. The thought of being left here alone hurt her more than she could have imagined.

Teresa left the room without looking at Luka but asked him to go with her to the study.

Rosa began to clear the table, carrying the dishes out to the kitchen. Graziella remained at the table. Rosa returned and began to fold the tablecloth.

"Is Sophia coming back, Rosa?"

"Yes, of course. There is so much to be done, you know, but I'm looking forward to going home."

"I shall miss you."

"But why? You'll be with us. We won't let you go; we need you. And besides, we're your family. When everything's settled, we'll have money, we'll buy a big apartment. I know you don't like what Mama is doing, but it's for the best, for our future. Mama's doing this for all of us, you must know that. All you've got to do is tell her she looks good blond! Okay?"

Graziella held her arms wide, and Rosa went to her, hugged her tight. "I love you, Grandma. Don't be scared; we won't leave you alone."

"There's your money, Mr. Moreno. Want to count it?"

Teresa tossed the envelope on the desk. Luka slipped it into his back pocket. He hesitated, then said quietly, "Rocco works for the Corleone family."

"Thank you, Mr. Moreno. What time will you leave?"

Luka's voice was soft, persuasive. "Signora Luciano, please take care. One kilo of heroin will make a million dollars. The people who want your space, your trading name, will be junk dealers, and when they learn that you intend shopping around for the highest offer, the only valid contract will be the one to protect your life. The Corleones have sent their representative, Giuseppe Rocco, to see you personally. They have already bought this villa; there is no one who dares argue with them. They can offer you, Signora Luciano, any price they choose, and you would be wise to take it."

Teresa was unnerved by his knowledge of what she was trying to do. "Did you go through
all
our private papers, Mr. Moreno?"

Now he looked up, stared directly at her. His eyes, a moment ago so pale, were now a brilliant blue, but totally expressionless. Then a small, tantalizing, cherubic smile moved on his lips.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted them. Teresa crossed quickly to the window, but he was ahead of her. He lifted the blind, then let it snap back into place.

As Giuseppe Rocco was being ushered into the study, Luka hurried across the hall, through the kitchen and into the garden. He could see Rocco's waiting car, the bodyguard leaning casually against the porch, cleaning his nails.

Rosa could see how much of the overgrown garden had been cleared. She smiled at him. "You certainly did a lot of work while we were away."

He stuffed his hands deep in his pants pockets and kept his distance from her. Rosa moved closer. "When are you going?" she asked.

"Today, maybe this afternoon."

For a moment she looked disappointed. Then she stuck her arms out like a tightrope walker and balanced along the edge of the small ditch he had dug in preparation for seeds. But he was paying no attention, for he had spotted the nose of the rented car he had hidden in the bushes. He had forgotten he had left it there. His body tensed, and he cursed himself.

Luka knew he had to get rid of the car, and fast. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts about it that when Rosa innocently reached out to touch the gold heart at his neck, he reacted instinctively, twisting her roughly away from him. Her head crashed against the fence, and her face puckered with fear.

He berated himself for his foolishness, but she smiled and said it was all right. He took her hand away from her reddening cheek, concerned at first, but then he found himself fascinated by her soft, fresh skin. Her arms slipped around his waist, pulling him toward her. He offered no resistance, just bent his head and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, childish, passionless.

Graziella appeared at the kitchen door, wearing an overcoat and carrying a trowel. Luka waved as if the embrace had never occurred. He turned back to Rosa.

"I am going to clear the kitchen garden." He blinked against the bright winter sun and shaded his face.

Rosa was struck by the vivid color of Luka's eyes, and she

smiled. "You have the bluest eyes I have ever seen."

He turned away from her, hearing his beloved Giorgio's voice: "You've got the bluest eyes, Luka. Come here, let me see. . . . No, don't look away. Let me see your eyes. . .

Rosa watched the strange sadness moving across his face as he whispered, "Your eyes are like soft blue flowers. . . ."

She laughed. "Mine? No, mine are brown. What flowers are mine?"

He cocked his head; she could not know that he was hearing Giorgio. "Forget-me-nots."

"What are they?"

He had never played this kind of bantering game before. He stepped closer, lifting his hand to touch her cheek, exactly as Giorgio had done. "You know why they are called forget-me-nots, Rosa?"

She shook her head, and he moved closer. "Once, long ago, Rosa, a young man fell in love with a beautiful lady, and on the bank of a river she saw these small blue flowers. It was dangerous, but because she said she liked them and because they matched the color of her eyes, he climbed down to pick her a flower. The closer he went to the river, the steeper the bank became. He reached out his hand like so . . ."

He bent forward, leaning farther and farther. "He caught a single flower. Then he fell, tumbled into the wild waters. As he was swept away he held up his hand, with the little blue flower, and called out, 'Forget me not!' " He half fell forward, then stumbled and turned back to smile at her.

"Is that a true story?"

He nodded.

"What happened to him?" she asked.

"He was swept away in the water. He drowned."

"You're putting me on."

Luka laughed. "No, it's a true story. Giorgio told me." He sprang away from her then, knowing he had made a mistake.

"Who's Giorgio?"

Luka backed away, and she could feel his sadness, hear it in his soft, whispered reply: "My brother."

He turned and headed toward the kitchen.

Teresa saw him approach the kitchen and was about to call to him when she saw Rosa, who had followed him.

"Rosa, take your grandmother into town to get the groceries. I've got some paper work to see to, and I want to call Sophia. We'll go over to the factory this afternoon."

Rosa helped Graziella down the front steps. As soon as they were gone, Teresa gestured for Luka to follow her into the study. When she spoke, her voice was strained, edgy.

"Rocco laughed at my proposition. The Corleones want us to finalize the sale of the villa. They will cover our debts and pay what they feel is a substantial amount to ensure that the Luciano women live in comfort—comfort, not luxury. But what they are offering is an insult. I have until this evening, when Rocco returns, to make up my mind. The amount decreases with every day that I do not agree to their terms."

She started twisting her wedding ring around. Finally she looked directly at Luka. "He said that no other family would oppose them, that I had no alternative but to accept their offer. I want to fight them, Mr. Moreno. If need be, I'll go to the government."

"They
are
the government. Take whatever they offer."

Her hands were shaking, and she was close to tears as she poured herself a brandy, but when she faced him again, the fear was gone.

"There was an offer sent to Mario Domino from a man called Michele Barzini. It's ten times the Corleones' offer. Have you ever heard of him?"

Luka's eyes narrowed, and he nodded. "Barzini's a middleman, you know, a negotiator. He works out of New York, but I don't know which family he is affiliated with."

Teresa began to pace the study. "But if we all travel to New York, we can get to him? If necessary, ask for his protection? Then, if he agrees to buy us out, on whoever's behalf, they can handle the situation here. All I want is our rightful inheritance. We haven't come this far to be cheated, robbed, after all we have done."

Luka remained impassive. Teresa continued, wringing her hands nervously. "We will need someone to protect us, someone we can trust. You know everything there is to know about our situation, and I know enough about you to have you charged with murder. As an incentive, we will pay you first the money from the pearls and then, when we go to New York and the deal is done, five percent more of everything we make. Then you are free to do as you wish."

Luka did not reply. She opened a drawer, took out the gun Luka had taken from Dante's nightclub, and laid it on the desk.

"Do we have a deal, Mr. Moreno?" Her eyes were bright, alert, her body tense and waiting.

She was surprised by his gentleness, even more by the light, childish kiss he gave her cheek. "We have a deal, Signora Luciano. You will not regret it, I give you my word. I will do anything to repay all of you for your kindness. You can trust me. ..."