Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don (15 page)

S
i, I am pregnant. I am with Luzo’s child.

Anxiety sneaked along her flesh. And in fear of the
repercussions of an angered Don’s wife, she hurried inside to gather her things. She needed the arms of a friend and his protection.

Carlo.

Facing trouble she sought Carlo.

And in the heat of a dream it is Carlo who beckoned; even in the shame of her indiscretion, she would ask for his protection.

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Monaco.

Royalty.

Grand prix and casinos.

The brothers had experienced the prominence of Monte Carlo with its spectacular view of the French Riviera, a hub for wealthy tourists. The Place du Casino is where Carlo lost more money than his brother’s combined in an attempt to impress a donna who found Alberti more to her liking. She’d gone off with the youngest snot and later Alberti teased his brother Carlo with his usual sagacity.

“Had you given more attention to the donna and not the table, it would have been your pene and not mine in her mouth.”

“Shut up cazzo!” Carlo barked back.

Luzo merely snickered.

That happened a few days ago. The French town of Beausoleil is only 8 km from Italy’s border and now he was back in Sicily, loading Sophie’s luggage in the trunk, scowling, not because she had thrown up on his jacket but also in his car. His new automobile smelled awful and they had many kilometers to drive.

“Every time you go away, why must I suffer the after-bile?” he asked as he sped along the Autostrada.

“It was not intentional.”

Carlo exhaled, of course it was not. She continued wiping the dashboard with a towel he provided from the trunk, which only spread the guck.

He slapped her hand down. “Stop, it is fine. I will have it professionally cleaned. Do not worry.”

She placed the cloth on the floor and rolled down the window before leaning back. Carlo noticed her preoccupation as they traveled in silence.

“What is wrong bella?”

“I am in trouble mio amico.”

“That is not surprising.”

“I am ashamed.”

“Perché?”

“Because I have disappointed myself.”

“Disappointment should not bring shame. A lesson gained is how a disappointment should be viewed.”

As Carlo drove along the
southern coast, Sophie could not smile at the lovely landscape. The road where they encountered vineyards, citrus orchards, wheat fields, and the odd sheepherder oblivious to leading his flock along a state road had not produced a grin. She hiccupped sadness instead and Carlo pulled the car over to a safe spot near a valley of green.

“Okay donna, this trouble you are in, tell me, is it what makes you sick and cry?”

Her eyes were rolling tides of water. “Sí. I am pregnant Carlo. I am afraid.”

Pregnant?

Carlo’s hopes of marriage and a life with Sophie collapsed.

“This uomo who gave you this gift, where can I find him donna. Tell me, ora so I can beat him to the ground until he gives you his name as well!”

She held his arm. “You cannot.”

“Perché?” he shouted. His anger had risen that Sophie was with another man’s child.

“Por favore Carlo…prometto you must protect me.”

Carlo stiffened. His thoughts were wild. Who did Sophie require protection from? There was a great fear in her eyes. “Sophie, who is the father of this bambino you carry?”

She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them as she whispered. “Luzo.”

Carlo was dumbstruck. He could barely speak. When he did the sentence was an incoherent stammer of speech. “Cosa…how…no
when did this occur?”

“First you must promise not to harm Luzo or tell him about my condition and I will tell you everything.”

The stench of the car rivaled his disgust for his brother. Sophie’s home was another hour drive from the aeroporto and he would not survive the odor. He owned a secluded property nearby, a beachside haven near the coast where he sought refuge when the anger within grew loud. He chose to take her there, and hear the sordid details that put her in yet another mess. Sí, he needed to get out of the soiled clothes -subito!

“Promet
to. I have a villa not far from here. We will talk there, capisce?”

When Sophie agreed, Carlo sped off in the direction of the sandy
beaches which stretched on forever. They arrived and he took her suitcase inside, aware of her presence at his back each step.

“Make yourself comfortable. I need to change,” he said, putting the suitcase aside a wall and then rushing upstairs to the bathroom to shower.

He removed his wallet, keys and then a loaded pistol; placed them on the counter and shoved the rancid clothes in the hamper. Under the warm water he stood. Water beat his head for a very long time before his hand reached for the soap. If he could cry an ocean for himself, this is the predicament that he would. But he could not, pride prevented him to display the hurt, even in solitude. He did not cry when he saw his family, he did not cry when he walked the long road with his little brother and he would never cry over fate.

The setting sun was an orange vibrant color. It projected somewhat of texture he could almost feel and taste. Sophie was like that, a glow in his life but whose rays were not on him but his fratello. Carlo brushed his teeth vigorously, as he stared out the window. His eye
noticed her and did not waver from the solitary figure walking alongside the secluded beach. Her head was lowered and she undoubtedly cried away heartbreak.

S
ophie was a vision of lovely sadness in the sheer chiffon dress blowing with the breeze. Sophie, the cutest girl in the village who he secretly liked since they were small was in trouble and sought a confidant, a friend who took pleasure in breaking skulls of her dilemma. He brought her here, his tiny piece of heaven beside the Mediterranean Sea, where they could both think.

Carlo spit the foamy mint in the sink, wiped his mouth with the towel and then looked at his reflection in the mirror. The anger was still there. The image of his innocent sisters asleep in their beds, covered in blood, victims of evil men. The uncontrollable temper
flares as a boy had simmered, but there are times when he feared hurting people he loved.

Santo!

He punched the glass, kept his fist in the shards, to feel injury. He saw only the blood. He did not feel the physical pain, only an overwhelming emotion called love for the woman carrying his fratello's bambino. That is how she found him, a towel filled with blood around his hand, with his head bowed to the sink.

“Anthony!” she wailed his real name as she rushed forward.

He was numb. “I am Carlo bella, por favore do not forget.” He grumbled. His heart had shattered with the glass.

“What happened?” she asked, as she checked the medicine cabinet for something to clean his cuts.

“An accident.”

He let her tend his
knuckles, uncaring of his nakedness or his lying words.

She fussed at him, telling him to be careful, and then she shrieked, “I am a fool to have wasted my love on another and to not listen to the whispers in my heart that called your name!”

He stepped away from her. “I am not an idiot. You say this because you cannot have my brother. Silenzio donna. I will assist you but lies are not necessary.”

Sophie blocked his retreat. “Anthony Giacanti!” Her eyes were ablaze.

He snarled. “Do not use that name, do not remain stubborn. On this matter there is no further compromise.”

“Do not call me a liar.”

“You love him donna, I have watched your obsession and grew sick because you deserved better.
”

“And you are the better that I want and love.”

He frowned. To hear this was a bitter-sweet sound. Then love talked reason, it said he was being given what he claimed to want, and the test of sincerity is whether his love was based on condition, if so then he had not been true.

“Tell me what happened,” he said in resignation.

Curiosity is a beast.

Sophie recanted the morning’s disgrace after her night with Luzo. “I begged like a desolate pauper, but I had pleaded to the wrong man. I fall upon my knees,” she genuflected at Carlo’s feet
in an exaggerative display of sincerity, “and ask for your forgiveness for not listening to my heart when it spoke your name. If you cast me aside that is the punishment I deserve for not hearing the quiet love for you that has grown into a maddening howl.”

He lifted her up by the arms, amused at the over
-dramatization. “Oh donna, what poignant theatre. I have enjoyed the operatic performance. I am curious though, when did this maddening howl of love begin for me?”

“Each time I thought of you
, months now bello.”

“And why should I believe this tale
, when you did not think to stop and come to me instead of my brother?”

“I was a fool. I was stupido Anthony Giacanti
and as you said, I had a girl’s crush. I held it for too long, but we are not children and Luzo is not the boy I loved. That is the truth.”

“
Must I remind you to not call me Anthony?” He sighed. “You are irritable and joyful to my heart Sophie, but it is difficult to believe you have fawned for my brother for years and then have developed deep feelings for me, blah, nonsense!”

“Goddammit Carlo, you are the stubborn ass.
It is not a lie!”

“
Lie or not you are pregnant donna, not I.”

Sophie marched to the bed and flopped there. “
Oh mio amore, por favore help me.”

“
The endearments have grown nicer, but why should I?” he asked as he wrapped a towel around his waist as she looked at his package.

“
Gina is wicked. I do not trust her. She will not take the news well. She is bound to be furious that I am with child especially since she has yet to give Luzo a bambino. I do not want Luzo to take the baby from me to live in their house.”

Carlo
sat beside her. “Luzo will not do such a thing.”

“He wants children.”

“But wants revenge more.”

“Then, do you suggest I tell him?”

“I suggest you brush your teeth before the odor kills me.”

She slapped his arm. “Bello, you are cruel.”

Carlo smirked. “I am honest, por favore, freshen yourself and then you may demonstrate this love which howls as I consider how to handle our dilemma.”

Sophie smiled. “Our?”

“Sí, troublesome bella, we confront another challenge.”

“We?”

“Will you mimic everything I say?”

Her eyes were soft. “Ti amo
, bello.”

“Bene. I suppose the only solution to mutual love is marriage. That is how I honor and protect you mio amore and our bambino.”

“Our bambino?”

“Sí, parrot. To be a real papa, I must intimately know the mama from inside out and bond with our bambino, now va ora. My pene has grown impatient.”

She could not miss the tall erection standing under cloth. This naughty side of Carlo gave her goosebumps and caused wetness between her legs. Aye, she wanted him badly! 

CHAPTER
TWENTY

“This is a great business opportunity,” flowed from the mouth of a relative by marriage seeking an investor.

Luzo may have allowed the entertainment to proceed longer, however there was a ceiling to his patience. On the previous occasions he had listened to the supposed ventures, picked holes in the dunce’s schemes, right down to the inaccuracy of the figures. Yet, he came again with a ‘sure shot money maker’ and thus when that too was passed
on; this latest malarkey was hailed as a ‘great business opportunity.’ Frankly, he never understood what motivates a person to suffer humiliation repeatedly or the necessity to subject an uninterested party in foolish pyramid schemes, especially someone obscenely wealthy.

Luzo rose as did
a skeptical brow, “I am not interested.”

“Consider the offer. This is a once in a lifetime deal.
I have others investors but they are held in abeyance because I believe you and I are visionaries.”