Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don (16 page)

Exhausted with the sales pitch of a con, Luzo’s fist struck. Today he was in a bad mood, yesterday was worse. Years of subterfuge and he had yet to locate Monticelli. He hid like a snake, slithering around the Americas with the assistance of mafia friends.

Blood trickled from the less than eloquent mouth and more spilled from the nose when Luzo’s knuckles broke the bone. He then seized Gina’s eldest brother by the collar and dragged him to the door of his office and opened it.

“Cease attempting to swindle me you piece of shit, capisce?”

A whine escaped. “I was not Luzo…I…I.”

“Shut up!” Luzo seethed and swung him to the floor.

The secretary continued typing, she had seen this behavior before from her employer. Mafia men have bad tempers, and her boss was no exception. She had no idea, his fit of rage was a result of the date which was the anniversary of an unsolved massacre.

A guard lifted the wounded conman to his feet before Luzo returned to his office and slammed the door. He fell into the leather seat in a huff. Luzo rang Carlo, but the call went unanswered. The blackness had come. This dark foreboding that came on special occasions
ate him alive and had not relented. He could hear his siblings, laughing as he studied and his mama humming as she cooked.

“Santo release me!” he said to the office furnishings
.

He stared at the door as it opened. There stood Alberti, but Luzo saw Giuseppe, smiling and playful. The twins were on his back, the little darlings, tugging his hair that mama made him comb before mass.

“I am home,” he whispered to his brother who stood with a worried expression.

“Luzo, are you all right?”

“Little brother…tell me…am I dead?”

“No,” Alberti said, discreetly closing the door. “What you feel is emptiness. You had a chance at love with Sophie, but you let it
pass by. When an opportunity presents itself again, do not close your eyes, seize it fratello and fill the darkness with light. Then you live…that is how I have survived.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-
ONE

Sophie had showered, gargled and finally emerged from the bathroom
to find Carlo on the telephone with his back to her.

“
Sí, I am aware of this. Aye, tell Don Casentini I am indisposed. Then tell him to jump off a very high bridge, because I do not answer to him or Don Trotta
!”

Carlo sensed her presence. His voice lowered. Sophie held his weapon. His eyes followed her as she crawled
naked toward him. Sophie was a vision to the eyes and he hung up on Snowzer to ask her what she planned to do with the gun.

“It is what I plan to let the gun do to me bello.”

His heart drummed swiftly. He was intrigued as she kissed his shoulder, before she reclined and spread her legs. Mesmerized he watched her slip the barrel between her thighs. He saw her challenge, the insane woman was testing his restraint.

“Steel is cold, but even it can grow hot,” she teased. She licked her lips letting him see as she massaged the entry of her tunnel with the loaded gun.

Carlo loosened his towel as she moaned his name. He was aroused by the beautiful donna and the dangerous seduction. He placed his hand on hers to halt her action. He was over her now, knees on either side of her voluptuous hips, lowering his mouth to her belly which he kissed. The gun was taken into his possession and shoved under a nearby pillow.

“Do not risk your life.”

“The safety was on.”

His mouth descended to where the inanimate object had been. The heat generated by his tongue made her cum in a rush that she could not control. She arched as he drank her feminine waters.

Carlo’s touches were sensual and strong. An overpowering lust filled her as his mouth and teeth climbed to the peak of her valley, ascending upward to her breast. His fingers were within her, stimulating her further and the dual stimuli elicited a cry of pleasure. Whatever girlish fantasy she had of Luzo was replaced by womanly want of Carlo’s complete consumption. She shrieked, panting hard as the sound echoed in his throat. Carlo sucked her air, took away the audible to make her body speak aloud.

Slowly he pushed between her lower lips, widening her door and shoving open the shutters, causing her to buckle and whimper from the girth.

“Take me in…sí,” he coaxed as she lathered him with her natural oils. He went further, rubbing every corner of her feminine vestibule, going in and out with affectionate rubs. He did not allow her to retract her buttocks. Instead he brought her tush forward with hard grips to her cheeks and as she gasped for air he licked her throat grunting like a bull. “This will be our bambini…and I will love him as I love you.”

“I am unworthy of you bello,” was Sophie’s whispered falsity to a brute’s ears as she raked loving fingers through his thick hair.

“What I feel for you cannot be killed cara mia."

The thunderous quake to her body was from the transfer of Carlo’s love shooting a torrent of semen
to her ceiling. “Ti amo…ti amo Carlo!” she bellowed to the muscled neck.

"
I pledge my heart Sophie.”

“Ah…uh…oh Carlo…oh,” she pant to his skin, raking her nails in lines down his hard back, feeling an intense state of ecstasy. Her teeth clamped his shoulder until the euphoric sensation subsided, but it lingered bringing several tremors.

He held fast at the flood streaming like a fall, talking to her hair, ecstatic the wait for Sophie was over. Not another day would he live without his donna; not another morning or night would he be alone. “You will stay in my home until we are married.”

Sophie nodded, closing her eyes to his warmth. “Sí, I do not want to spend another minute without you my love.” And then she smiled. “I am happy…I am more than happy.”

They must have dozed after further lovemaking, because when Sophie awakened the room was pitch black and Carlo gently snored. Only the moon provided stingy illumination.

Carlo had his head on her belly, rippled muscles and skin with healed scars served as a cover for her delicate unmarred
flesh. His head was quite heavy and she wondered how much it weighed and then she laughed because he reminded her so much of her fierce bear she cuddled with as a child.

The happiness went away at the sound of a floorboard creak. Yes, she heard it again. Her hand slid beneath the pillow as she whispered in Carlo’s ear, “Bello.”

Carlo rubbed her thigh. “Let me rest. You are greedy donna, I will love you again, lo prometto.”

“Carlo…” Her words ended by the appearance of Don Casentini who boldly switched on the light.

Don Casentini smirked at the sight of the lovers. “Ah, how cozy. You did not wish to share your bed with a Don, and chose the servant, eh Sophie?”

Carlo slid up. He had heard. Unfortunately, he was unarmed, Sophie was not.

She pointed the gun at Casentini. “Leave stronzo.”

Don Casentini shrugged. “I have been called worse.” He peered at the magnificent donna’s breasts. His eyes darted to Carlo,
whose toned and indented flesh was the picture for male health and fitness. They were a stunning couple and he was jealous.

The Capo
who Carlo had choked unconscious stepped around his boss. His gun was aimed at Carlo’s head. “Drop the weapon ragazza. You do not want to hurt yourself. Twitch and he dies."

The slender finger twitched. A blast resounded from the dainty weapon. The noise was a loud boom in the small room which shook a large body; not the sound but the lead. To underestimate a woman, especially a daughter who grew up with weapons and not dolls is a chauvinistic mistake.

Carlo was off the bed, h
e easily overtook Don Casentini before he could flee and wrapped his arms around Don Casentini’s neck, and the Don began pleading his case. “Think Carlo Dichenzo. You do not want to do this. You cannot renege on an agreement with Don Trotta. He required the truck to make a shipment to the 'Ndrangheta. We have a bargain, they will expect their upfront money returned from me. You kill me and they will suspect you were involved.”

Carlo did not think. He snapped Don Casentini’s neck for insulting his donna. If there is to be war over honor; that is a battle he would gladly fight.

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-
TWO

The telephone atop the bedside
table rang incessantly. Luzo slid up to answer. It was Carlo. He listened without interruption. Gina turned on her side. Her porcelain face and blonde tresses were impeccable –Father Winter would be proud.

She rubbed his groin, the damn thing responded. Alberti had wondered whether he loved Gina…yes…he loved she charmed guests…brought the sheep to his door as he fed them hay as he sifted through which one to slaughter. He loved that she fucked
him without command. He also loved the game of deceit; afterall their marriage was like many others –a sham.

She pulled down the covers and gave him a wonder
ful suctioning. He gripped a fistful of Gina’s hair, buckling like a bronco. An eruption occurred when Carlo said, “Casentini is dead.”

There was a broad smile. Casentini’s relative-informer
and co-conspirator, the woman who swallowed his semen, licked her lips and climbed over his legs, was unaware of Don Casentini’s demise.

Luzo lounged comfortably as Gina rode him with determination
. His wife was clueless and he took pleasure in the knowledge. He actually smiled.

“I have disposed of the bodies.”

“There was more than one?” Luzo asked with his eyes on his wife’s tits.

“The Capo caught a headache.”

Luzo grunted. Gina’s grip was a vice, not sensual as Sophie’s.

“Eh, we talk in the morning.”

“There is another thing.”

“Sí.” He became immobile. Gina kissed his neck.

“I am in love with Sophie and asked her to marry me. Her answer was yes and we have consummated our union many times before making it to the altar. My moral responsibility requires that I marry her immediately.”

The news came a
s a shock. He waved Gina aside as he spoke to the circular mouthpiece. “I did not know you had such strong feelings. You should have spoken up earlier.”

Carlo’s
remorse was unwarranted, Luzo thought. Sophie was not an innocent woman.

“She is staying at my home. She feeds me physically and emotionally.”

Luzo experienced a fleeting sadness. He had considered divorcing Gina, but the Catholic Church is rather antiquated. However, a generous donation can clothe and house many. But, Sophie had fallen in love with his brother and he would not stand in the way of their happiness. “Congratulations. You have my blessing.”

“Bene. You will be my Best Man, sí?”

“Sí, of course.”

“Tell your wife, I apologize for the hour of the call.”

“There is no apology when there is good news. Buona notte.”

“Buona notte.”

Luzo rose, donned his robe and went downstairs to have a drink.

He sighed as the liquor burned.

Carlo would have a loving home with Sophie. The love for his fratellino exceeded what a brother harbored for any donna.

He took another shot.

Casentini was dead; a conflict had been resolved and an unlikely wedding was imminent.

Salute!

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ernesto marched angrily into the tailor’s shop with his small sons. The bell over the door signified his arrival. He had received a call from Sophie. She was upset her bridal dress was not ready and her wedding was tomorrow. The donna was finally getting married and to a Giacanti, as he had hoped. The least he could do is help the nuptial along.

The human mouse wearing spectacles rushed from the sewing room.
“Signore Serano, buongiorno!”