Armored (5 page)

“Va ora!” he shouted to the driver.

Not a tear was shed over his decision. His mama could scream like a banshee but until she acquiesced, Carlo would not visit. An Israeli Mafiya consorting with Viyachov was apt to bring poison into their house. Viyachov and his father were rivals. Their feud over a shipment of arms had been long standing. He remembered only snatches and pieces of what occurred, it had happened so long ago, but he did recall his father’s abhorrence of Viyachov. Matteo’s uncle filled in the missing parts since he was present during the exchange.

Apparently, Viyachov accused his papa of attempting to receive more weapons by alleging he had been shortchanged.
Matteo’s uncle said twenty crates of armaments were due but upon delivery there were only eighteen. Yosef had brokered the deal and was paid handsomely. Viyachov denied the accusation despite the bill of lading which clearly showed the numbers.

His father recognized a conspiracy and had planned to eliminate both men. His papa never liked being taken for a fool. Luzo quickly intervened to broker an agreement, the terms were simple, return the difference of the weapons Carlo had not received and in exchange the Sicilians would refrain from waging war over pettiness. Reluctantly, Viyachov agreed. The men existed in a truce of sorts, but his father was not one to easily forgive. Giuseppe recalled the occasional rants whenever the Russian sought to do business in Sicily. His father refused any further dealings with their lot. Giuseppe supposed this was why he maintained an aversion to the Russian Mafiya.

The year after this problem with the Russians, a Sicilian Don was apprehended in America for heroin trafficking in what the law enforcement officials termed The Pizza Connection. The network stretched from Sicily to America. During the coordinated crackdown on the operation, internal fighting among Sicilian criminals began. Those involved in the trade seized the opportunity to go after rival factions for control of smuggling and distribution. The timing was ripe for insurgents to rise. The height of the killings began when word reached Sicily that the Don on trial in the United States had cooperated with law enforcement. In exchange he requested immunity from prosecution and placement in their Witness Protection Program.

Giuseppe’s stomach whined
as the car rumbled across an uneven section of a strada. He scoffed at the reminder he had not eaten and missed his mama’s food. Then his thoughts returned to the feuds of violent men.

The upheaval set about by a rat resulted in shifts of power. His father was not involved in the drug smuggling business, his position remained unaffected. Giacanti’s are not solely mobsters; they’re royalty’s heirs. His father’s illegal activities consisted of money laundering, loan-sharking, and a host of other crimes. His trash collection company was the legitimate front. There wasn’t a necessity to engage in drug trafficking. He had enough money. Besides, his father once said the drug franchise is for the scavengers; those who eat their young. He was right.

Prostitution he found harmless if a woman was of legal age and chose to become an entrepreneur of her flesh. But, if she was underage, forced, kidnapped or tricked into the profession, then he was of the opinion such exploitation was an affront to decent men who loved women.

His papa was complicated; immoral yet ethical. Sometimes, Giuseppe wondered why he did not simply operate a legitimate business, but the answer he discovered was as deadly and complex as their bloodline.

The vehicle rolled by greenery with stately villas in the distance, homes owned by the wealthy with an upkeep equivalent to an average person’s annual salary.

He considered what Matteo’s Uncle had said about his biological father’s possible involvement in the killing of the hated snitch. There’s speculation Luzo traveled to America and facilitated the demise of the turncoat Don
by a ‘so-called’ suicide while in U.S. custody.

Matteo’s Uncle suggested if Luzo had done so, it was not for the protection of the smugglers but the Don’s refusal to deliver up Monticelli. The theory was highly plausible, Luzo’s very existence
revolved around avenging his murdered family. Whatever the reason for the killing, his Papa Carlo indirectly reaped the benefit; families sought him out for counsel and favors.

Other criminal factions had emerged and secured chunks of the market through violence. The Colombians, Russians, Asians and Jews had begun to exercise their authority. Yosef Glavovitz was in the top tier and it’s rumored he snuffed out many of his competitors using paramilitary associates. His organization’s specialty was party drugs, add in the prostitution rings, diamond smuggling and black market brokering of antiquities, and what you have is a Mafiya who is willing to do anything for cash. Yosef’s ruthless reputation was widespread; compared to Yosef, Carlo was a saint.

This is the scavenger his mama married.

A worshipper of money is cut-throat. Yosef could not be trusted; therefore Giuseppe would never allow him around his son. His mama was given an ultimatum; who she chose determined her allegiance. He hoped she decided wisely because no matter how much he loved her, his son came first.

Thinking of which, he removed his cell to check on the boy.

Selange answered immediately. “Carlo is fine he’s eating breakfast Geo. This is the fourth call in an hour. I understand what you’re going through…I do…but please can you ease up a bit on the constant calling?” she said before Giuseppe had an opportunity to inquire.

Perhaps, he should not call so often. Selange was competent, but a father’s guilt compelled him to do so. The child had no mama and he did not want to be a neglectful parent. Sometimes he worried he possessed a dormant ‘bad papa gene’ from Luzo; to offset the possibility of such a catastrophe he overcompensated when it came to the boy. 

“When I called he was asleep.”

“Exactly, it was seven o’clock in the morning.”

“The second time he was using the toilet.”

“Yes, doing number two and he locked the door,” she answered patiently.

“Sí, he is smart. But, when I called again he was bathing.”

“Like I said, three calls within an hour. If you would’ve called back at eight o’clock like I asked, you would have spared yourself the worry. Anyway, here he is.”

The boy’s happy voice cheered his papa. “Hi papa!”

“Buongiorno. I will see you shortly.”

“Ciao…I eat good food!” Carlo shouted.

The cell made a noise. His son must have put it on the table. He heard a bunch of children laughing; Carlo’s joyful squeals the loudest among the group.

Selange was back on the line. “Giuseppe are you there?”

“Sí, donna,” he answered from his reclined position.

“Well that was a short conversation.”

“Humph.”

“Come for breakfast. Anita made too much food
. You’re welcome to join us brother.”

There was a shout, “Yeah Uncle Geo please come visit!”

Giuseppe recognized Sal’s voice. The other children began to chime in; his Allie refused to be upstaged. “I’ll bake you cookies if you come!”

Giuseppe chuckled. They were a raucous bunch. He never understood how Alfonzo withstood the daily racket. Ah, but they were lovable mutts. He checked the hour. He was hungry. Usually, his mama would have prepared breakfast or Viola. They had
spoiled him with food and now because of a stronzo infiltrator he would never pass the threshold of his childhood home.

A lot had changed since Shanda’s passing. The routine he’d grown accustomed to vanished with his donna.
There is comfort in the familiar, without it he felt strangely alone. Thank the saints his fratellino had come to stay or he would have no one except annoying Matteo and his troublesome wife. Ah, noisy children and Selange were far better company.

“Grazie, donna. I am at your gate.”

“You are?”

“Sí. I did not wish to be rude and storm your house.”

“Whoa, what alien stole my brother-in-law?”

“The miserable kind,” he answered and then said, “ciao.”  He placed another phone call as the vehicle was given entry
.

The raspy feminine voice on the line stirred him inside. “Um, morning.”

“Morning donna.”

“Why do you always call me Donna, when my name’s Nicole?”

He smiled at this. “Donna means woman.”

“Oh.” A long purr of a yawn followed. “Um, it’s too early for conversation. I didn’t go to sleep until five. Can I call you later?”

“Perché?”

“What?”

“Why did you go to sleep at five, were you with someone?”

A heavy breath. “Yes.”

Giuseppe felt a pang of jealousy. He saw the door to the house open. Sal and Allie rushed to the rear door of his car, making faces. Allie put breath kisses on his once clean window. Giuseppe smirked although he was unhappy. “You have forgotten me so soon, eh donna?”

“No, you’re memorable.”

“This other you were with, is he memorable?”

She chuckled. “Oh goodness. You are a handful.
My sister and I were up greeting Tony’s family.”

Relieved, Giuseppe sat forward as the kids started to tug on the door. “Be ready at noon. Carlo and I want you to come with us on an outing.”

“Giuseppe, look, I can’t replace your son’s mother. I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic but I think the only relationship you should be pursuing is the one with your son.”

Allie began banging on the window. “Hold on donna,” he said and rolled the window down. “Buongiorno you two. Are you wild things now?”

“Get off the phone Uncle, your food is getting cold!” Allie ordered.

“Don’t mind her; she’s always trying to boss people around Uncle Geo. I’ll tell mom you’re coming.”

“Grazie,” Giuseppe said to Sal and opened the door for Allie who refused to leave. He pulled her inside and apologized to Nicole for the interruption. “Mi dispiace, Nicole.”

“Hi Nicole, this is Aldonza Diaz. Are you dating my Uncle?” Allie blurt out.

Giuseppe gave her the stare, but he was interested in the donna’s answer.

“Oh man, you don’t have any shame for using those poor kids, do you?” Nicole asked.

Giuseppe shrugged. “Cosa? That was not my idea.”

“All right Giuseppe, I’m returning to sleep.”

“Bye Nicole, tell Tiffany as soon as she opens her studio I want to come but she has to teach me hip-hop. I don’t like ballet…I don’t want to have ugly feet when I grow up…”

Giuseppe put his hand over the girl’s mouth. “Aye, mi scusi Nicole, my Allie cannot censure herself. I will pick you up at noon; do not make me wait donna. Ciao!”

When he hung up, he lifted Allie out the car by her waist. She giggled as he pretended to throw her across the yard. “What will I do with you, eh?” Giuseppe laughed.

“Say gracias that I’m helping you find a new girlfriend who drives better than Shanda.”

Giuseppe froze. Allie was abruptly placed on her feet. His heart beat violently loud. The girl’s well-meaning words cut him open. A loving Uncle became stern. Allie had crossed the line.

Allie’s chin elevated, up and up and up
along her Uncle’s torso and sheepish eyes settled on his face. Uncle Giuseppe was as tall as a building. She blinked innocently at the sight of his anger. She was in trouble big-time…yup…Uncle had the super mad expression.

“Ti amo Zio. You love me too, right?” she asked with the wide puppy eyes.

The child grimaced when he barked. “Sí and each spank will be my demonstration. Go inside, ora!”

C
hapter Four

Nico’s fingers pressed to soft skin, touching Ari’s hip bone. They had retired late, discussing the situation with Darren for the second night in a row. Well, actually Ari talked, ranted
is more appropriate and he suffered to listen. Ari was upset, as expected. She suggested they put Darren and the girl in an apartment near the college and let his ass take on adult responsibilities.

Nico understood beneath the surface his wife’s denial
. She didn’t want to feel old, that’s why she complained about becoming a Nonna too soon. He tried to reassure the sexy woman that grandchildren cannot steal youth, in fact, children keep the heart spry. But, in time he was sure Ari would figure that out.

His hand caressed his wife’s supple flesh, uncertain on how much to tell her about Yosef. Everything Anna said had checked out, at least the paper evidence did. Documents can be forged; he altered paperwork and data often. But, until he was certain that Yosef didn’t pose a threat and Anna wasn’t that Trojan horse, he refused to allow his son out in the world with the girl. At home, his dad c
ould keep an eye on the girl and who she contacted. Nico had already secured a listening device and tracker in her personal items, surveillance on kids was easy, they’re so smart, wiser than parents they believe.