Malavita (25 page)

“Follow me.” They scrambled out Rinaldo’s side and joined Livio beside the car. The drivers of each car had been killed, trapping everyone in their party. Carlo stood at the top of the church steps, and his men had taken up shelter behind the hedge that fronted the church’s car park. Bullets assaulted them, hitting their vehicles with hard metallic thunks. Zia Elma and Francesca were screaming behind them.

Yet Enrico heard no gunshots. Then he realized: They were using suppressors. As he had when he’d killed Carlo’s men.

Enrico’s gut turned to stone. He was going to kill Carlo Andretti if it was the last thing he ever did. He took aim at Carlo. His finger was squeezing the trigger when the church doors burst open. Toni rushed out and grabbed Carlo’s arm, screaming “No!,” her rage palpable in that one word. Enrico put the gun up, his stomach lurching.

He’d nearly shot the woman he loved.

Glancing to his left, he saw Livio take aim at them. Now it was Enrico’s turn to shout.

He had to stop this before Toni was killed. Carlo was trying to wrestle her inside, but she was clawing at his face, slowing him down. “Cover me!” Enrico shouted at Livio and his father as he ran toward Toni and Carlo, gun drawn.

Heavy gunfire erupted from behind him, as his father’s men joined Livio and Rinaldo in covering Enrico, and Carlo’s men returned fire. Carlo thought he’d planned this well, and taking out the drivers first had been clever, but Carlo’s men were trapped between the sharpshooters and the guards.

Even so, bullets pinged against the gravel crunching beneath Enrico’s feet. Every step he took toward the church seemed like one he’d stolen. How could they possibly miss? His heart in his throat, waiting any second for a bullet to slice into him, Enrico raced up the dozen stone steps and lunged at Carlo, who’d nearly succeeded in shoving Toni back inside, out of the line of fire. Now was his chance. He shoved his gun against Carlo’s neck, just below his left ear. Carlo froze.

“No!” Toni screamed again, this time at Enrico. The anguish in her voice made him hesitate. He could end it all, right here, right now. He could avenge his family, he could keep Nico and everyone he loved safe. All it would take was one little squeeze of the trigger. His hand tightened on the gun. Every cell in his body screamed at him to do it, that it was the safest course.

But he couldn’t drown out the sound of Toni’s voice, her pleas for her father, her commands that he stop. Her tears.

He pressed the gun harder against Carlo’s neck, for the first time realizing that the gunfire had stopped. “You have a choice to make, Don Andretti,” Enrico said, his voice low and hard. “Come to terms with us or die.”

“
Porco Dio
!” Carlo swore, the blasphemy even more jarring since they stood in the doorway to the church.

“Which is it?” Enrico asked, jabbing Carlo with the muzzle.

“Fucking Lucchesi,” Carlo muttered. “I should have gunned you down when you and your father came to the house for breakfast.”

“But you didn’t, and here we are.”

“Papà, you have no choice,” Toni said.

“Fine.” Carlo’s reply was so clipped, Enrico wasn’t sure he’d heard it at first.

“Where can we talk?” Enrico asked Toni.

“I’ll get the priest.” She darted inside while Enrico kept the gun pressed to Carlo’s neck.

“Call off your men, and let us collect the dead,” Enrico said. So far, there were no sirens. Perhaps they’d gotten lucky and no one had noticed.

Or perhaps someone had and didn’t dare interfere in ’Ndrangheta business.

Carlo barked commands at the men behind the hedge, and they rose up, at least a half dozen of them. They holstered their guns and gathered their fallen comrades and loaded them into the trunks of their cars, as Rinaldo’s men did the same. Somehow, they’d lost only the four drivers. Several of their guards were bleeding, but since they were all moving, none of the wounds appeared life-threatening.

Still no sirens. It was a miracle.

Toni reappeared, the priest at her side. His eyes widened when he saw Enrico’s gun. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked, then he glanced around, taking in the wounded guards milling about the cars, and stopped asking questions. “Follow me,” he said, and Enrico beckoned his father forward before stepping into the church. He moved the gun down to Carlo’s ribs, keeping it out of view, but making sure with a jab that Carlo knew it was still there and still lethal.

The pews were filled with relatives and friends on both sides, all of them turning in their seats to look at their little group. Enrico caught a glimpse of his godfather, Don Battista, and Lorenzo and Benedetto Andretti, Carlo’s father and older brother, rising from their seats before he had to turn left and follow the priest and Toni into a small office stuffed with a desk, three chairs and a sofa.

Rinaldo, Dom, and Zio Poldi crowded in, followed by Don Battista and Benedetto and Lorenzo Andretti. Carlo shook his head when his brother and father entered. “I don’t want you here,” he said.

“We came to offer our assistance,” Lorenzo said. “Since all of you have your blood up.”

It was true, and yet, adding more Andrettis to the mix was the last thing Enrico wanted. “I agree with Carlo. We don’t need outsiders to settle this.”

Lorenzo’s gaze swept over them all, coming to rest on Enrico. “I believe my son has proved he cannot be trusted.”

“And how will your presence change matters?”

Lorenzo gave him a sly smile. “I have some expertise when it comes to making peace.”

“Only by killing your enemies,” Carlo said.

“Or removing them from my sight,” Lorenzo said. Enrico realized he was referring to Carlo’s exile from Calabria.

Carlo’s hands balled into fists. “You’re right. We
are
enemies. And I don’t need more of them in this room.”

“We’ll leave you then,” Lorenzo said. “Surrounded by Lucchesis.”

After they left, Rinaldo gave Don Battista, Dom, and Zio Poldi a look. “Enrico and I can handle this.”

Don Battista walked over to Enrico, put a hand on his shoulder, and leaned in for a confidential word. “You don’t have to go through with this marriage. I can arrange another bride, one from a strong family. A true alliance.”

Had Don Battista made such an offer a month ago, Enrico would have considered it. But not now. “I love Toni.”

“You are certain?”

“My feelings for her are about all I am certain of.”

Don Battista patted his shoulder and wished him luck, the same way Livio had almost a month ago. “
In bocca al lupo
.”
In the mouth of the wolf
.

As he replied, Enrico couldn’t help glancing at Carlo. “
Crepi il lupo
.”
May the wolf die
.

When the four of them were alone, Carlo gave a pointed look at Enrico’s gun. “Can we have a civilized discussion?”

“With you?”

“Rico,” Toni said.

He pocketed the gun, and they arranged the seating so that Carlo faced Rinaldo, Enrico, and Toni on the sofa. A coffee table stacked with books on the great artists provided a buffer zone.

For several long moments, no one spoke. Carlo pulled out a cigar and lit up, then rose and grabbed the ashtray from the priest’s desk. After he’d taken several drags, he broke the silence. “Four kills in three days,” Carlo said, his eyes on Enrico. “I underestimated you.”

“I did what had to be done.”

Carlo turned to Rinaldo. “You broke the contract.”

Rinaldo stroked his mustache and shook his head, unable to keep a smile from curving his lips. “I did nothing. That was my son’s doing.”

Carlo’s eyes snapped back to Enrico. “You acted without your father’s consent?”

Enrico stared at him, enjoying the surprise on Carlo’s face. “My father gave up his right to vendetta.
I
never did. Read the contract carefully.”

“Do you mean to refuse my daughter after all?”

“I intend to marry her, as agreed.”

“Why should I allow it?”

Enrico leaned forward. “Because I have proved myself worthy of her.” He continued while Carlo digested what he’d said. “What sort of man would you wish for her,
signore
? A man who would provide for her and keep her safe, or a man who bows his head and accepts what others
give
him?”

After a long silence, Carlo nodded. “I respect that. However, the four you killed were good men, and hard to replace.”

Enrico’s blood boiled. The gall of this man, complaining about losing his pet assassins. He was about to retort when he realized Carlo was deliberately baiting him. So he’d do the same. “Consider keeping your life as payment for theirs.”

Carlo’s body went rigid, his eyes narrowing. Seconds ticked by, and all Enrico could hear was the rush of blood in his ears. Finally Carlo spoke. “You are young, and so I will let that pass.”

Enrico suppressed a smile. He needed Carlo to agree to the wedding. Time to offer a concession. “In the spirit of peace, and to cement our alliance, we can move five hundred million
lire
into an account bearing your name.” He glanced briefly at his father, but he registered no objection.

Carlo huffed with laughter. “A wedding present?”

“Call it what you like.”

Taking another draw on the cigar, Carlo asked, “And what do you want in exchange?”

“Toni. And no more trouble.”

“My peace cannot be purchased so cheaply.”

Enrico looked at his father, who said, “You will remain a preferred customer at the bank and will pay half the normal rate for any services rendered, provided you abide by the old codes.” That was quite a price break on the money laundering; Carlo had better appreciate it.

“If I don’t?”

“Then you’ll receive no discount, but also no interference.”

“You are too generous.” Carlo’s tone belied his words. “You insult me with this pathetic offer.”

Enrico smacked a fist on the table beside him, and the potted plant on it jumped. “There
will
be peace between us. Even though it is far from what you deserve.”

“Rico,
per favore
,” Toni said.

Carlo turned to her. “
Dolcezza
, we are discussing business.”

“And it affects me.” She took Enrico’s hand, pulling it into her lap. Her fingers were cold, and they shook a little, but her voice did not. “Papà, you promised me we’d hold to the agreement. That is what I expect, and what I wish. Take the offer. Make me happy.”

Carlo said nothing until he’d taken another long draw and then exhaled a stream of smoke. “Make it a billion
lire
, and we have a deal.”

Enrico looked at his father, who shook his head. “I can offer no more.”

A muscle ticked in Carlo’s jaw. “I can take no less.”

“Are you trying to sell me?” Toni asked, her voice honed to a keen edge.

“
Dolcezza
, that money is mine.”

They were never going to agree. Why should they? Enrico jumped to his feet. “You’ve been planning this ambush for weeks. Your man, Ripoli, followed Toni and me, and then he met with you that same night so you could settle the details. You are nothing but a snake. And I can’t trust a snake, much less make a deal with one.”

“
I’m
a snake? You’re the one who broke the contract!”

Toni rose and spread her arms. “
Basta
!” she shouted. After a moment where she glared at both of them in turn, she said, “Papà, we need to talk in private. Now.”

Enrico looked at her in alarm, but her face revealed nothing. She merely motioned him and his father out the door.

What was she going to do? And would it help or only make things worse?

Antonella’s heart was beating so fast, she could barely keep from shaking as Enrico and his father left the room. She’d thought she’d gotten a handle on her anger, but it had only grown during their discussion, and she could hold it in no longer. “You promised me you weren’t going to kill them.”

“
Dolcezza
—”

“You tried to turn my wedding into a slaughter! You fired on women. Francesca is
pregnant
. Have you
no
shame?”

“Rinaldo Lucchesi betrayed me, and the boy broke the contract.” Carlo pounded a fist on the table, upsetting the stack of books and making the ashtray rattle. “Rinaldo and I had a deal. A partnership. He can’t be my father’s lapdog and be loyal to me.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I
believed
you. After everything you’ve done, I still trusted you to keep your word. But that’s all changed.”

He stared at her, stunned. “What are you saying?”

“You’ve put blood on my hands. These people came here for my wedding. You’ve used me.
Again
. I’m your daughter, not a strategy.”

“Toni—”

“No, no, no. You don’t get to talk. You get to listen. For once.” She paced over to the window, her stomach so knotted she thought she was going to vomit. Enrico had nearly been killed. His entire family had nearly been slaughtered. He’d put his faith in her, and she’d failed.