Avarice (15 page)

Domingo leaned over the desk, clasped his arms about Alfonzo’s shoulders to share a bro-hug. For old time sake he thought or a truce. But Alfonzo sensed money and ego sent them too far adrift and someone had to drown.

There was a loud gasp, followed by wide eyes staring into stagnant blue waters in disbelief at Locos Ojos Azules…el Diablo…the side of Alfonzo he forgot.

Domingo disavowed a vital code. Never whip out a gun unless you plan to use it, but on family that’s never done.

Blood makes you related but loyalty makes you family!

Red drips on green.

Fluid can dissolve cash.

Alfonzo gripped Domingo’s neck, listening to the shallow breaths before he retracted the blade from his chest. “You stopped being famili
a
e
l segundo le puso un arma en mi cara!”

Domingo should have killed him when he had the chance, because mercy from Alfonzo wasn’t happening. He thrust Domingo backward to the high backed throne he coveted and he slumped over dead. With a monogrammed handkerchief he cleaned the blade before sheathing the weapon.

Not one tear was shed.

Not one drop of remorse.

Blood is all that spilled on the floor.

Money is what some men live for.

But betrayal of family came with a death cost.

Alfonzo scanned the room, checking if Domingo had listened and installed security cameras, but he hadn’t. Alfonzo peeped the
lax security during his prior visit. Domingo didn’t want surveillance on the property because he worried the police might one day get hold of incriminating evidence about his drug transactions. Search warrants were often surprises, unless you have an inside man in your camp. That’s what separated the wannabe gangsters from the real professionals.

Then his eyes went to the picture of his Uncle. The man seemed to be looking at him. Alfonzo signed the cross. “Lo siento Tio…lo siento.”

With gloved hands he exited Domingo’s office. The black shiny shoes covered swift feet. Tailored slacks encased weakened limbs which had a sturdy gait. Taut muscles reawakened from a virus’ grasp flexed across skin to feet. The swoosh of the three quarter length Irish wool during the lithe strides was an image of a fashionable Capo de tutti.

Alfonzo stepped across the oil stained floors of the shop that once served as a second home when the streets were hard.  The poison had seeped beneath the concrete in to blood’s veins when he wasn’t looking.

Blue eyes as cold as frost hid nefarious intent as he approached the exit to the street. Domingo’s guard stood with a smugness of most second rate thugs with weapons. They’ll shoot across blocks with kids around, dumb shit like that. In every ‘hood whether impoverished or a gated community, guns transformed cowards to thugs. Step toe-to-toe, go fist-to-fist with a man without a weapon and see how quick the weak ones topple. Half the suckers couldn’t fight for nothing, instead of learning they utilized guns.

Domingo’s hired hand was oblivious and cocky; that’s why he never saw the blade coming. A perforation occurred at the jugular. Alfonzo used a sideway grip to arch the Bowie knife high and fast.

“
Bésame culo hijo de puta
!” Alfonzo growled angrily without breaking a stride.

Tony predicted this outcome. H
is semi-automatic had been on stand-by, but he didn’t have to fire one shot. Alfonzo didn’t require his assistance.

With Alfonzo, if shit’s personal; he’ll do the
honors and cut real deep in to a man’s bone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Ari heard a car door close. “Okay mom, love you too,” she said and shoved the cell phone in her robe pocket before Nico strolled through the door returning from his two day jaunt to wherever at four in the morning.

“Hey love,” he said when sat forward on the sofa. “Couldn’t sleep?”

The backpack was slung over his shoulder like a hiker, stubble had grown on his face, and he looked ruggedly handsome. He hadn’t called, most of the time when he was on assignment, he didn’t, and she hoped he wasn’t with Bianca again. “My mom called. I think she forgets the time difference and you know me once I’m up it’s hard to go back to sleep.”

“Yeah, that happens,” he replied and went to put away his bag and outer coat. When he returned he reclined on the sofa putting his head in her lap. “Ugh, it’s good to be home sweetheart.”

Ari massaged his scalp. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“My parents will be here tomorrow. They’re spending the holiday with us. You better get as much rest as you can before my dad challenges you to a wood-cutting contest.”

Nico smiled, showing his white teeth. “Bring it on.”

“There won’t be any emergencies I hope,” Ari stated as she began to knead his neck and shoulders.

“I can’t promise there won’t be a call.”

“But you can promise if it’s not life or death, you’ll send someone else to deal with it, right?”

“I can do that.”

Ari felt Nico’s muscles relax. She leaned over and kissed his throat and then his mouth. “Let me put you to bed,” she mumbled huskily.

Nico’s lips parted wider. “Um…put me to bed love…make sure you tuck me in wet and tight when you do.”

Her fingers caressed the bulge protruding from his trousers and he jumped up quickly to grab her hand and pull her along. “Wait, wasn’t I supposed to put you to bed and not the other way around?”

“You were going too damn slow Ari.”

Her feet
were traveling swiftly on a stationary moving floor because Nico walked very fast. “Slow down.”

He stopped at the pantry, smirked and pulled the door open, practically shoving her in like a captive.
“We’ve arrived.”

“The pantry Nico?”

“There’s motivation when surrounded by food.”

“And what happens if the boys get hungry and pad their asses down here?”

“They’ll find mom and dad fucking,” he said nonchalantly as he stepped out of his pants, seized her waist, hiking her nightgown as he pressed her to the wall. “Smell that?” he asked before kissing her ear.

He nibbled lightly
on her earlobe as deft fingers inserted between her thighs and then inside her micio. “What do you smell?” she responded in a long drawl too caught up in the sensation to care about aromas other than his.

“Apples, cinnamon…um…
spices.” He teased her lips with his tongue, licking around the corners as he made her wet below.

“
Oh…oh.”

“Smell it now sweetheart?”

“Nico…Nico…” She panted several times when he crouched to kiss her breasts, after unfastening several buttons. He then took hold of her thighs bringing her high enough to aim his rod to align with a soft target. He shoved in and her hands spread out to clutch either side of the wall. “Oh…spices are good.”

Nico’s nostrils flared as her warm body connected with his as he pressed her like dough to
dull the unobstructed space between a spice shelf and one with canned foods.  He was in deep, working like an excavator in her pussy when he heard footsteps and then the fridge open. Ari was about to speak and he kissed her lips closed.

Having kids didn’t mean parents shouldn’t fuck. Let the boy, who he suspected might be Darren,
have a lesson in marriage 101.

Closed doors, walls shaking and sensual moans were signs of sexual activity. If the kid didn’t understand the fundamental of observation and liste
ning, then dad had fallen short.

Ari wrapped her arms around his neck. “Naughty.”

Nico’s head was at her breasts. He wasn’t paying attention to anything other than Ari’s body. She thrashed against him when he pumped hard, smirking at her attempt to remain silent. He pinned her hands high above her head, moving her easy, feeding on woman.

“Dammit Nico…oh…oh….oh.”

Nico excited in the huskiness of her voice and when she grabbed his head and climaxed she wasn’t quiet anymore.

Nico laughed when his suspicions were confirmed and Darren exclaimed, “All right dad you proved your point!”

“Bene, now get the hell out of the kitchen since you don’t pay attention to noises in your surroundings.”

“Did you just make me scream on purpose Nico?”
Ari said on up thrust.

“Not really,” he replied and then went
low between her legs for a drink of Ari’s water.

***

Selange sighed. Goodness, Anita was as nosy as the children. She
often snooped and found her gift each year and pretended she didn’t. The house was quiet as she punched the code to the cellar, peering at the racks of imported liquors from all around the world.

If she placed the box anywhere along the aisles
Anita would definitely find it, so she carried the cumbersome box to the rear of the wine cellar, remembered there was a closet and went to hide it there. Selange switched on the interior light and spotted the ornate trunk. She couldn’t recall seeing the chest before she thought, but then again she hadn’t ventured this far in the cellar in a while.

She placed the decorative box against a wall
and then stepped closer to the antique case. She expected to find old dishes or something of that nature, not fine jewels and a worn journal yellowed with age. Nosy she called Anita, but at the moment curiosity is what made Selange sit on the floor, thumbing through pages, reading the thoughts of a man she’s never met and being transported to another place.

Luzo Palazzo chronicled many details about his life. The term autobiography came to mind. Whether each stroke of the pen was true or not, it made for
an interesting read. Perhaps, she should have stopped as the hour went on but she hadn’t. There’s always the ‘oh shit’ moments in life that occur when secrets are revealed. Beneath the cellar walls of the ancestral home of the Giacanti’s were artifacts belonging to many Jews and those who opposed Mussolini. Paintings, religious artifacts and precious things that were given for safe passage to America from people escaping Nazi Germany and Italy during World War II.

Return them to their families Luzo had written in grave conscience. My father has sworn to some that he would. But, the thinning of decades had passed and provenances lost. The Meyers were mentioned and the significance failed to register. As she continued to read more, light was shed on the housing of priceless artwork belonging to Semira as well. But the most shocking of all was about Nico’s birth mother and Alberti.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks while reading. She wondered if Nico had contact with his birth mother or was aware of her sickness. What type of mother would seek to harm her babies, what madness was this?

The writing on the pages, were they lies?

Did Nico’s darkness come from this knowledge?

Poor Nico and Vincent. They had been blessed and cursed. A Giacanti father and a duchess mother of destitute nobility, betrothed to another royal house. Mental illness their crest until Alberti found out.  Save his sons is what he’d done with money.
Shield them from the hands of insanity who now saw filth in their blood because he was Giacanti she found out.

“Alberti Luca, you are Giacanti, the sewage which we were told as children will corrupt our souls. You have lied to me about your identity to impregnate and kill my dreams of marriage to another. You did not love me, why else would you have lied? I cannot love deceit…and I will not allow what I birth to add to your lot!”

That and more is what Luzo wrote after Alberti confided his sorrow. He told of how Sabrina’s family hid her to avoid anyone finding out about her condition. They had told everyone she’d gone abroad to visit relatives and the lie was accepted.

But Alberti learned the truth and he went to the secret location. She had recently had the babies. Twin boys. Alberti had sons, the first of the brothers. The youngest of the three had ensured their legacy. They were the stars of hope to a dwindling line of royal men. Vincenzo and Nicolo, were to be protected by the best of the Protezioni and learn their ways. If Luzo had no male offspring, nor Carlo, they would inherit wealth and power. The brothers agreed, Alberti’s sons would need the means to defend themselves and
their lineage. So, thus The Butcher was again chosen, after all, Alberti had become the best of the trio in tactics and defense.

The Butcher aided Alberti in arming their way in to take the infants. Sabrina was in the bathroom with the babies floating in the bathtub. Alberti is who plucked them from the water unharmed. Who knows what may have been the outcome had he arrived any later.

Sabrina was spared her life and the family paid for their silence. Whatever after was unwritten except a cryptic thought from Luzo. “I have warned Alberti against his sensitivities towards the mother. She is not well, I have witnessed falsity in tone and speech. A dream world is where she lives and he cannot encourage such thinking. Keep the boys safe, protect them from such a woman I implored. My nephews are our future...they give me hope.”