Page 126 of Destino

Giovanni’s gaze swung to Dominic. “I said there would be no meeting. I made a call to the Don.”

“And we paid a visit to ensure that he would adhere to your request. In exchange we vowed there would be no war between theCammoraandNdgrangheta.”

Dominic now commanded Giovanni’s undivided attention. He specifically gave an order. Why would his consigliere and under boss both defy it so openly? “Are you saying you went against my wishes?”

Dominic nodded. “Flavio is convinced that peace is the best way and that you are distracted. He also believes it’s because of your woman, the American.”

“Well you both are wrong. And I will deal with Flavio when I return.”

“He’s going to sacrifice Lorenzo. I think he’s going to counsel you to cut him loose. With him in Genoa now dumping Giuseppe’s body, I’m worried it might be a trap.”

Giovanni cut his eyes back to the window. He’d deal with Flavio, Lorenzo, all of it later. One fuck up at a time. Six cars arrived in the night. The bastards who dared interfere with his product from the Irish were filing in one after another. Several got out of their cars. A cold dark wave of satisfaction moved over Giovanni. He leaned forward and squinted, counting the men present. The one named Enu emerged last. Dominic made sure to point him out to Giovanni. Even under the silver glow of the moon, he could see they were armed.

The doors to the inn opened and three men from Giovanni’s family walked out. They spoke to the Nigerians who didn’t understand the greeting. And then it happened. Men from every direction of the forest stepped out firing, as did the men on the front steps of the inn. Bullet spray and cannon blasts from all the guns firing at once reminded him of a fireworks display. It only took three minutes for the Nigerians to lie dead in the streets. He relaxed in his seat and Dominic told the driver to take them down out of the valley to the inn.

“I want to see Flavio, now.”

****

Mira struggled to process her grief, anger, and heartbreak over a single thought. She had her purse and passport but not much else. Each time she tried to put clothes in a bag she broke down in tears. Finally giving up she went out of the room with a guard on her heels heading to Fabiana’s room. Opening the door she immediately smelled her perfume. Mira covered her mouth as the image of Fabiana standing in front of her wearing that damn yellow dress she hated, twirling around tauntingly, came into view then faded.

Laughter surfaced as she recalled Fabiana teasing her about the dress. For years she put her best friend in her best designs, and the day of her death she wore that monstrosity. The humor drained from Mira’s lips. She glanced around the room at Fabiana’s things. Seeing her cosmetic bag open on top of the vanity, she smiled weakly. Going over she stuck her hand inside, moving around the multiple lipsticks and glosses. She was reminded of how Fabiana fussed over her makeup and hair whenever they had a show. “You always kept us together,” she mumbled.

Flavio stepped into the room behind her. She could feel his presence. “The car is ready for you.”

Mira looked over at him, “I want her things sent to me, and her body, if there is a body,” she said weakly.

“Of course, I’ll contact you shortly after you land to arrange it. The press has made calls. They are trying to reach you for a comment.” He stood under the door glaring at her. “We will discuss how you will share with the world this unfortunate accident.”

Mira picked up Fabiana’s purse, stepping away from the vanity. Dressed now in jeans and a t-shirt with a bruised face and heart, she nodded in agreement with Flavio’s demands. She cared nothing about her appearance and only wanted to get away from this place and the heartache she felt over Giovanni using his attack dog on her. For abandoning her.

Fish had backed his Vespa up a hill under the dense cover of trees outside of the Battaglia villa. Even the patrols were not able to see him from this distance. He scanned the front of the estate with night binoculars. The American woman that they learned was staying at the compound was escorted into a car. Smiling he lowered the binoculars. Angelo anticipated that Giovanni would send the other bitch to America after the botched attempt to kill Lorenzo blew up the redhead. It was Fish’s mission to follow and take her out. This he did willingly. They made a big mistake taking Maria. Neither he nor Angelo could agree on much, but Maria’s life and safety was one of the few.

He’d blow up the fucking universe to have her back.

Fish started his Vespa. He bristled at the low rumble the bike made. Hopefully no one was close enough to hear. He put up his binoculars and removed his gun just in case. He wanted to kill the Battaglia bitch Catalina and her new husband. Angelo was against it. Taking out Lorenzo Battaglia was a gem Fish had to agree was far better. Now the women presented an even greater opportunity. Apparently they were well known in America. The deaths of them both would bring plenty unwanted media attention to the Battaglia’s and cripple the family’s prestige in the Republic. Breaking them from within would then make the families in theCammoraloyal to Calderone. Yes. This was a better plan.

****

Giovanni stepped out of the car. The air was tinged with sulfur and the bitter smell of blood. The men had shredded the Nigerians and most of them were unrecognizable bloody heaps. However Enu, the leader, lie on his back very much alive. He wheezed with a chest full of holes. How the fucker remained alive was a mystery. Giovanni glanced up at Dominic and his underboss nodded. He removed his piece and fired directly into the man’s skull ending the man once and for all.

****

Mira fastened her seatbelt and reclined back in her airplane seat. Flavio had been specific. Fabiana died in a terrible fireworks accident behind the walls of Melanzana. The explosion came after the celebratory party for seeing Catalina off to her honeymoon. A ridiculous story she was sure she could never adhere to, but nonetheless she agreed. In fact the Italian media had already reported Flavio’s version of events and the press in the United States were running with it.

This was all she was left with. The sweet promises she and Giovanni had made to each other had evaporated. Three weeks and her life was in shambles. The plane began to taxi down the runway, and she closed her eyes. Maybe when this was all over he’d come back to her. Maybe he’d leave this madness behind and come for her. Bursting into tears she shook her head sadly. The truth was there were no maybes. This was the end.

Chapter Seventeen

Giovanni hurried up the steps ofMelanzana. He’d check on Mira first then summon Flavio toVilla Rosso.

“Gio.” Flavio called out to him as he raced up the stairs to his bedroom, to her. He paused and looked down. Flavio stood at the base of the stairwell, staring up. “She’s not there.”

“Who?”

“The woman, Mira, she’s gone.”

“Gone? What does this mean, gone? How can she be gone?” He stalked back down the steps.

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