Page 76 of Ti Amo

He didn’t answer. He kissed her, and she drew him with her when she reclined on the bed. Her tongue swirling over his and her lush curves under him he took liberties he shouldn’t have. But he was a condemned man. There was nothing more to lose.

****

The day was much warmer. Giovanni looked up to the weathered stone steps of the Arch of Trajan. Its arc stood magnificently regal during Roman times and was carved of limestone. The sculpting engraved in the enclave and along the arch depicted victories and sacrifices. All of it drew tourism into southern Italy. The public setting should alleviate any stress Don Bonaduce had about entering southern Italy. If not, Giovanni didn’t give a shit. He was done with the old man’s interference. And since the last Calderone was now a charred corpse, he considered this meeting only a courtesy.

Giovanni started up the cobblestone path. Bonaduce watched his approach. He wore a fedora like his father used to wear. His sons were on either side. Giovanni squinted at the men and then cast his gaze over to Lorenzo who also took note of their smug stance. Something felt awry.

Cheung cursed under his breath. There was no plausible way he could get an accurate shot. The call came too late in the morning for him to properly scope out a good location. The arch was at least forty feet high. It had been preserved and set on display in a roped off park like area that was center to several traffic ways. Many of the hotels or businesses nearby were only three stories high and each would expose him considerably. Cheung finally decided his best option would be along via dei Rettori at hotel Villa Traiano. He scaled the side of the building from the third story window with his sniper rifle strapped to his back. On the flat roof he set up his arsenal keeping low to the ground. The tripod and rifle were in position but the sun shone directly on him, and it meant his lens could cast a reflection. He had to make it quick to avoid being spotted. Cheung peered into the scope. Giovanni Battaglia was a tall broad shouldered man; he should be an easy target. The red crosshairs tracked the Battaglia’s as they parked and exited their vehicles. Giovanni, due to his height, was easily seen among the giants shadowing him. He wore a dark suit. He approached Bonaduce. Cheung fingered the trigger. Bonaduce said he’d draw Giovanni away from his men to give Cheung a clear shot. The chaos would be enough cover for him to slip away. All Cheung had to do was be sure not to miss.

“Giovanni, come va?” Bonaduce kissed Giovanni on the left then the right cheek.

“Non mi lamento.” Giovanni greeted Bonaduce in the familiar way. They had gathered before the roped off monument. The early hour left little traffic along via dei Rettori. Still Lorenzo and the others positioned themselves in a semi-circle, scanning the cars and the faces of Bonaduce’s men.

“Why don’t we go for a walk? Talk?” Bonaduce said.

“I’m not in the mood for a stroll this morning.”

Bonaduce touched his chest as if affected. “The bad blood for us has spilled. It’s time to start anew. Have I not shown this by travelling here to meet you? Here of all places.”

“You understood what Angelo and the Calderone’s did to my family. You inserted yourself in our affairs. I’m not inclined to forget this easily.”

A sharp flare of disapproval sparked in the old man’s eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched with anger. “How dare you speak to me this way? Your father…”

“Is dead. I came here to make it clear to you that the only peace between our families is the one of tolerance. I’ve tolerated you for two years. It would be wise for you to do the same.”

“Did you start the fire? Did you come into my backyard and kill Angelo Calderone?”

Giovanni didn’t bother to answer. His gaze remained trained on the man and his focus singularly.

“Careful son, you are crossing into territory the Cammora does not reach. The triangle isn’t yours yet.”

“It’s mine.” Giovanni shrugged, and then smirked. “It became mine when Angelo met justice.”

The sun shone brightly over the arch, and Lorenzo looked away from the glare. He checked his watch. Carlo and Renaldo could not fail. The fucker had to be at the Traiano. It was the only place to take a clear shot. His gaze swept the others. His men were at every corner of via dei Rettori, and a few had arrived early to post in the surrounding buildings. He and Giovanni had agreed on this plan. Still, he felt on edge having his cousin’s life in his hands. Would his cousin be as trusting if he knew what his actions had cost Papa Tomosino? He could not fail him or the family again. There would be no more family blood on his hands.

Bonaduce’s men were oddly situated a distance apart. Two of Bonaduce’s top enforcers faced east, as if expecting something or someone. The narrow street facing Lorenzo and his cousin was sandwiched between buildings, one a hotel the other appeared to be an apartment home of some kind. In the distance was Traiano. He’d visited the hotel on occasion and was well acquainted with it. Had Carlo and Renaldo made it in time? A gleam sparkled from the roof and caught his eye. A reflective glare sparkled again with a slight turn of his head. The odd location of the flare made the hairs on the back of his nape stand on end. The roof was flat, nothing to it, so what could it be? Thanks to the distance he questioned his eyes and his suspicion. Lorenzo glanced back at Giovanni and then to the Traiano.

Cheung nearly took the shot. The men stepped closer to the arch, and the movement could have caused a misfire. He steadied his aim again and relaxed. Bonaduce kept pacing away. Twice one of the Don’s sons stepped too close to his target, and the old Don was less than discreet in pulling his son away from Giovanni. Time was up. He had to take the shot. Killing a man this powerful and notorious would gain him much respect in the Triad. Giovanni Battaglia led the Cammora with an iron fist. It was time for someone to squash him with one. “Die motherfucker,” Cheung said, and a millisecond before he pulled the trigger, the tall man next to Giovanni shoved him hard in the back. Cheung fired. The bullet hit Bonaduce’s son. The young boy was blown several feet back taking the force dead center to his gut. Immediately everyone dove and Cheung recognized his mistake.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He grabbed his rifle and ran for the side of the building. He’d have only minutes before all hell rained down upon him.

“Are you okay?” Lorenzo asked.

The shove sent him face first to the ground. Giovanni could taste the grit of dirt and blood on his lips. He spat in disgust. He struggled to rise, a bit winded. The noisy wails of Don Bonaduce who cradled his dying son in his arms rattled him. He glanced back and several of his men were engaged in open warfare with Bonaduce’s men.

“Stay down, Gio! I’ll get you out of here.”

“Son of a bitch!” Giovanni grunted and glanced at Bonaduce who continued to shout the young boy’s name. He did not seem in fear of another assassin’s bullet. The death shot was meant for Giovanni.

“We have to go. The polizia are on us. Now, Gio! Now!”

Without delay he got to his feet and ran for the car waiting for him. His men would deal with the fallout. He couldn’t be caught at the scene. “How close are we to catching the assassin?”

“Close. He took the shot from Traiano. Carlo and Renaldo won’t fail us. I was right about the location.”

Giovanni smirked. “Then it goes down just as we planned. Exactly as we planned Lorenzo.”

“It was risky, Gio. Doing things this way. Fuck! You could have been killed.”

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