Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Whether hot or blustery winds. Sicilians love their outdoor markets. Fresh fruit and vegetables are a necessity of their diet. The local farmers are known on a first name basis and there is no haggling needed. Neighbors, friends, even tourists are given a fair price.

Sophie held the basket close to her side in the crowded market.

She fingered the bright oranges, taking several and then spied the globe grapes calling her over. She walked there and tasted the fruit before scooping up a vine.

She heard women gossiping. Obviously they were not concerned with privacy.

“…
he thinks I do not know about her. The whore will learn she has no claim on my husband
.
I will kill her first
…”

Sophie scanned the faces. The blonde hair stood out among auburn. Standing with her back to Sophie was Luzo’s wife, Gina engaged in conversation with an equally despised donna. 

Sophie placed the basket down and discreetly exited the crowd.

A threat made in a public place is not unusual, except when the person making such a statement is capable of carrying it out.
Luzo had not been discreet for months. Luzo’s affairs were often temporary dalliances and none had lasted for long. He was a well-known philanderer, his marriage to Gina was virtually non-existent, but he was married nonetheless.

She entered the car and gave an address. It was an hour trip but this mistress of Luzo’s must be informed her life was in danger. Carlo would understand her meddling, this once.

When she arrived at the lush villa tucked among the rolling hills, she noticed there was a guard on duty but did not see further security. She spoke to the gatekeeper who let her in without question. Don Dichenzo’s wife was not a threat and there lies the trust of men. Women can be very ruthless when scorned. Gina would enter just as Sophie, kill the woman and wait for her husband boldly uncaring that she would meet a similar fate.

Women will die for causes; jealousy is often at the top of the list. When she rang the bell, the door opened and Sophie saw innocence.

The donna was young, twenty-ish, with a lovely face and envious figure. “Buongiorno, may I help you Signora?” she asked.

“Sí, I am here to warn you, Luzo Palazzo is married and his wife plans to visit.”

There was confusion, doubt and then anger on the young woman’s face. Sophie hated she had to reveal these important details, but it was imperative and time was of the essence.

“He is Mafiosi donna
. I do not know what he has told you, but there is danger involved if you stay.”

“You lie!”

“No,” Sophie sighed. “Prometto, I am not lying.”

Then sadness washed over the face. Maria had begun to recall the hushed conversations, the closed door discussions with his
friend Bruno who was his only visitor since she arrived a year ago and the guns she discovered when cleaning. Many guns…there were many signs she had been deceived. The beautiful visitor asked her name and she courteously answered. “My name is Maria.”

“Maria, mi dispiace. I am sorry.” Sophie turned to leave, “I only came to spare your life.
I hope you heed my warning. Luzo’s wife is wicked. Whatever, fantasy you have for the Don will not survive if you stay. Do not trade dreams for reality; go home to America where you are safe.” Sophie removed the money from her purse and folded it in the woman’s hand. “Use this to purchase a ticket home.”

Maria gripped the bills.

She watched as the stranger hurried to her vehicle and the car sped away. Tears exited as well. She had come to love Luzo Palazzo more than the sun. He had been everything she had hoped to find in a great love. But, she had gone against the teachings of her faith and committed a sin. Her lust led her to this immoral place; hunger of the flesh had overtaken her senses. Luzo was the seductive serpent in the garden, and she the trusting girl who did not see the poison in his seduction.

Her eyes watered
.

Luzo Palazzo had taken her heart and innocence.

Mafiosi?

Bad men who kill as business were suited gangs.

Luzo had paid her well, lured her here to a place of beauty and she fell like a fool to his charm. She loved him, and planned to tell him that she was pregnant, but now she could not. Never would she endanger her unborn child for a man who killed.

Mafiosi?

In New York, such men were on the news all the time. Perhaps that is why he was there, to consort with the criminals who sold death in drugs and committed murder to further their crimes.

She packed,
and then sat to scribble a note. Such sorrow filled her body as she thought of the wonderful moments with Luzo. The tears dropped on the delicate stationary as she wrote her farewell
:
I cannot stay with a man who has a wife. You have lied and disgraced me. Do not try to contact me. –Good-bye!

CHAPTER THIRTY

Where does time go?
Luzo wondered as he awakened to the darkness. Tired and old is how he felt. Maria had brought such joy to his life many years ago. When he returned and discovered her gone, and read her note, he had done nothing other than ensure she had arrived safely to America. He let her go. He wanted her to have the life she wanted, a hair salon, a chance to blossom without the poisonous weeds. There would come a day that men would come looking for items bequeathed to a Giacanti for safekeeping. The wars have spoils. The things among his father’s possessions were not meant to be kept forever. Blood things must return to blood. Perhaps, his son would learn the lesson that he did not. Love with an open heart and give back what is not yours.

Looking back on the moments with
Maria, he was grateful to have had what Carlo and Alberti discovered early on.

Such wretchedness it is to have lived in wasted years chasing vengeance when love had shown itself for the taking. But a fool of a gardener grasps one straw of revenge and allows a field of flowers to go unattended.

When he learned about his son, he went to her. He had hoped time had eased her pain and she would have forgiven a desperately loveless man for his greed. But, she turned him away. Again, there is fate that determines a man’s journey and his was to sit in the office of his doctor, surrounded by bright lights and white walls as he learned of the body eating cancer.

Ah, the irony.

He had Gina, prancing about with fake sincerity, plotting to kill his son while pretending to care for an ailing husband.

She always thought
too highly of herself.

Luzo
thought of his children. Beautiful girls were the result of a tryst with an actress years after Maria had returned home. But, his love remained Maria, always.

He thought of his eldest
son, Alfonzo and their conversation when he reluctantly visited. Alfonzo was wise, a tad head-strong, but that is the way of youth even in his day.

“I have loved from afar too long. I am a foolish man to allow your mother to walk out of my life with you
,” he had said to his son, which was true. However, then he did not know Maria was pregnant and when he did find out, he provided protection and tried to allow his son a normalcy he never had. Alfonzo had normalcy afforded few children of Mafia people. His son was also able to find love which Alberti believes is what he has in the young woman Selange.

To be happy
requires a balance. Every day should not be about revenge or feuds. How wonderful to have quiet love with Maria in a normal setting, even if were short lived.

He had done as Alberti advised those many years ago, seized the opportunity to love and fill the emptiness and he was right.
Strange, that he felt happy as death approached, but that is what occurred in his heart.

Luzo prayed his son had a full life, a loving life and found forgiveness in his heart for a vengeful father.

A shaky hand reached for the small device that fit in the palm of his hand. It was smaller than his wallet which brought a cough of a laugh. “Ah, I’m ancient,” he mumbled although he wasn’t yet seventy.

He smiled, there was a picture.

Gina was dead.

He deleted the photo. He wasn’t brain dead yet and then hit a single number. The operatic ringtone stopped abruptly.

“Fratello what did the doctor say?” Carlo answered in the brusque tone that intimidated many.

“Blah, they are helpless. My reunion is imminent.”

There was a groan. “I am coming there fratello to bring you home.”

“No I will go to our father’s house shortly;
for tonight let us speak of the happy times we shared.”

“Salvatore…fratello…we are each nearing an end…” There was a pause; Carlo could not tell his beloved brother that he too would join
him in the after-life shortly. Perhaps, a year is what he was told by an oncologist. This cancerous demon was beating up hearty men. He had not told the children, but he did not hide the news from Sophie. A great love such as theirs has no hidden cobwebs. They agreed not to tell the others. Why shadow a joyful sun with a cloud that will certainly pour rain?

What a good life with Sophie, Carlo was able to have. His son Giuseppe made the years grander and then Amelda came along and a father was twice blessed. Yes, a good life can be had even amid death. 

Luzo coughed.

“Salvatore…my spirit dwells with you,” Carlo said softly.

He had not heard his true name spoken in years. “Yes fratellino, I know.”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Sí.”

“When we were boys, such fun we had running through mama’s garden.”

“You trampled her flowers often giovani.”

“Not on purpose. I could not escape you.” He laughed. “You were swift and mama’s garden was a shortcut to the field. I do not believe she considered the inconvenience to me.”

“Papa should have spanked you.”

“But papa was a practical man, no?”

“Sí…sí.” Luzo smiled. “Ti amo fratellino. You have been a good brother. I am tired, ora.”

“Ti amo…Salvatore…grazie for protecting me. I know why you married Gina…to save my life.”

“I would die many times for you and our family.”

“Rest…you have fought with honor...loyalty…duty…for our famiglia Don Giacanti.”

Luzo thought of his carefree youth before malevolence snatched joy away. He saw his papa sitting behind the polished oak desk and heard the music of Josephine Baker playing. He smiled when his sisters ran across the polished floors, shimmery ribbons in their ebony hair. His lip trembled when his mama touched his chest as he lay upon his side. She kissed his cheek and then sat on the bed looking at him with Maria’s loving eyes. She spoke to him in a song of a voice telling him sweet things a child longs to hear. “Ti amo…my precious son. You are weary.”

“Sí mama,” he answered.

“Rest, you are home now. I have missed you all these years.”

He did as told, obedient as always. The cell dropped from his hand to the floor. He did not hear Anthony, he was far away. He traveled through the vineyards and olive gardens, across seas and time. His mouth slackened as illness forever slid away from bone.

The heart monitor wailed its alert but Salvatore Giacanti was unconcerned. The man known as Luzo Palazzo was gone. A boy had returned to his famiglia. There was solace; with his famiglia he found a joyous reunion. A lifetime it seemed was spent searching for his place, but Salvatore Giacanti had finally arrived and the welcome was magnificent.

Home was happiness.

Bliss.

‘
Fathers are pleading,

L
overs are all alone,

Mothers are praying

Send our sons back home,

You marched them away,

O
n ships and planes,

To the senseless war,

Facing death in vain,