La Famiglia (67 page)

The same stranger lifted his father’s head. Blood and drool dripped from his mouth.

“Do you see, Tomosino?” Rocco said. “I was right. The pig bastard tortures the child. He plays liaison between you and Mancini like he’s some kind of diplomat. Plays at being a man of principle. He’s a baby beater!” Rocco spat on Dominic’s father. A glob of spit hit his hair and the side of his face.

“Papa?” Dominic wept, “No, no, not Papa,” he wept.

The man with the hat stepped into the scene. He glanced down at the scene of a broken man with a bruised and bloody body. His father blubbered for mercy and then the cold dark stare of the man with the fedora lifted to Dominic. He removed his cigar and smiled. “Ciao, picolleto. Come sta?”

Dominic could do nothing but nod.

“Mi chiamo Patri Tomosino.”

The man reached and touched Dominic’s cheek with affection. The other men stared. Dominic glanced from one to the other. Only his father wept and begged for mercy. He managed to smile for Tomosino. Tomosino chuckled. He addressed the one called Rocco. “You’re right. Poor dirt rat is treated worse than a dog.” Tomosino said. “I’ll take him.” The man strolled away as if the business they came for was concluded. Two others walked away with him.

Rocco heaved Dominic up in his arms. “Grazie, Tomosino!” he said.

Dominic was confused. Where would they take him? He glanced down to his father. “Papa? Perchè?”

“We do this for you, little one,” Rocco said.

Not understanding the meaning of the statement Dominic held to Rocco’s neck. He managed another smile for the men. Those who looked his way smiled at him. They were good men. Friends. Why was his father praying and weeping?

And then his father looked up at him and spoke with tears in his eyes. Did he understand his destiny?“I love you son—” he said and the front of his forehead exploded from the gunshot. Blood splattered over Dominic and he screamed.

“Jesus!” Marietta gasped. “That’s awful.”

“For years what I knew as life was nothing but torture. The man murdered my mother who tried to shield me from his drunken wrath when I was a baby. And Mancini covered it up because he was a high-ranking enforcer in the family. I could barely sleep without nightmares as a kid until Giovanni took care of me.”

“But wasn’t Giovanni a kid too?” Marietta asked.

“Fifteen. I was given to him at fifteen,” Dominic said.

“Given to him?” Marietta repeated. “As… what? A pet?”

“A brother.” Dominic clarified. “Giovanni made a deal with your brother Armando Mancini to have that necklace made. I’ve worn it every day since I received the gift. St. William protects me.”

The story left her raw with emotion. Dominic told her of the days he spent with the Battaglias. How the family became his. She was riveted by his tale. “I can’t believe you made it through any of this sane.”

“Who says we’re sane?” Dominic winked. “We’re just family. And you’re part of that family now. Giovanni isn’t the black-hearted ruler you think he is. He’s the leader of a family of flawed men with a united purpose. To ensure our children and our children’s, children know their legacy. He had a father who made him witness and do things no child should suffer. It makes him hard and vulnerable. Do you understand? He loves his wife, she gives him purpose, keeps him balanced. Before her he lived and led us with the same cold evenhanded method that his father used. Since they met he has been a better man. You can help him and her by reminding your sister how badly things end when anyone is denied family,” Dominic said. “Because you and I know as children what it is like to exist without a father’s love.” Dominic stood.

Marietta attempted to hand the necklace back to him.

“Why don’t you hold on to it for now. When I return from Sorrento you can give it back to me.” Dominic smiled.

“Thank you. For telling me your story,” Marietta said.

Dominic cupped Marietta’s chin and she stared up at him. He was handsome, and wise for such a young man. She couldn’t help but be drawn in by his brown eyes. She felt a calm when looking into them. How could such a genuine human being exist after such a torturous existence as a child? Maybe there was hope for her to overcome her demons as Dominic once had.

“Talk to Mira. Help her past her grief and anger,” Dominic said.

“I’ll try.”

He leaned in and kissed Marietta’s brow. Marietta closed her eyes as if the Pope himself had done so. She opened her eyes and watched Dominic leave. She stared down at the necklace and the charm. After hearing the story she knew it meant as much to Dominic as her necklace did to her. He was right. She did have questions. Lots of questions about the strange and complicated family she’d now inherited. Each day she learned more.

* B
*

Mira wasn’t prepared for the celebration. But she felt such a deep relief to see it when her heart had been so divided. She walked out onto the terrace and everyone cheered. She smiled. The decadent smells of Zia’s recipes filled the air.

“Hungry, baby?” Mira asked. She waited until after the feeding of her sons to wake Eve to bring her downstairs. Cecilia sat with the boys and would come get Mira if she was needed. Eve laid her head on her mother’s shoulder with a groggy yawn. Mira looked down the table to Giovanni who was eating. Rosetta brought him additional food. It stung to see Rosetta tend to her husband’s needs. It had always been her role to fix his plate. And he wouldn’t eat until she did. Zia said he’d first push her away, and then replace her. Deep down inside she felt a cold chill of fear that she could be denied his love—permanently.

Giovanni’s gaze lifted to her and he dismissed her.

She tried to ignore how that dismissal unnerved her.

She walked in, a brave composed manner to his end of the table. Rosetta pulled the chair out next to him and she sat.

“Papa!” Eve said. Her daughter was absent of her pacifier. She hadn’t asked for it since her nap. Eve opened her mouth. Giovanni’s gaze cut over to his daughter and there wasn’t much warmth there. It was as if he looked through Eve.

“Papa!” Eve demanded and hit the table. Mira frowned at Gio’s cold dead stare. He seemed to come out of whatever fog impaired his judgment. He gave Eve a weak smile and fed her a helping from his fork.

“Mio Dio!”
Rosetta exclaimed. She had returned to her seat at the other end of the table. Everyone looked to her. Rosetta looked down at Mira. “It’s your doctor. He’s on the front page of the paper!”

“What?” Catalina asked.

Dominic watched as did the others and everyone paused over the news. Giovanni was the only one to keep eating and feeding Eve as if Rosetta hadn’t spoken.

“It says here his body was found on the beach. He’d been stabbed like over a hundred times.”

“That’s not possible.” Mira said. “I saw him yesterday, just before he released me and the twins.”

“Here.” Rosetta pushed back in her chair and walked fast down the table. No one spoke. The men began to fix their plates as if the news wasn’t shocking. Mira accepted the paper as Eve reached into her father’s plate for what she wanted. A picture of Dr. Buhari was on the cover with a side shot of a covered body on Modello shores. The police were investigating. He was indeed murdered and his body washed up on the shore. Mira looked over at Giovanni.

“It’s awful, Rosetta. Let’s not discuss it now,” she said. She folded the paper and slammed it down on the table. She glanced to her husband once more.

He looked up at her and the sly smirk to his lips chilled her.

“Excuse me,” Mira said. She pushed back from the table. She handed Eve to her father and Giovanni took her without complaint. She needed air. She wasn’t able to take a deep enough breath until she escaped them all. She walked through the villa and turned toward the zen gardens near the open terrace on the opposite side of the villa. She put her hands to her head and closed her eyes as her heart slammed rapidly in her chest. It beat faster than she knew it should. Was she having another stroke? She had to calm down. She went to the chair and lowered to it and fought back her tears.

“Mira?

She glanced up with tears blocking her vision. He stepped closer.

“Domi?”

“Are you okay?” Dominic asked.

“Yes, I am. I’m fine,” she replied.

“You don’t look fine,” Dominic said. He stepped toward her and she had to look away to wipe at her tears.

“Did he do it? Did he kill Dr. Buhari?” Mira asked.

Dominic stared at her for a moment. “Why would Giovanni kill your doctor?”

“Why does he do any of the things he does!” she shouted back.

“May I?” he gestured to a seat.

Mira dropped back in her seat and shrugged. “Don’t come in here and try to explain away his actions, Domi. I’m in no mood.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Not now,” she sighed.

“I’m afraid it has to be now,” he insisted.

“What is it?” Mira asked.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game with our lives, Mira, and his,” Dominic said.

She sat up. “Me? I’m playing games?”

“You’ve seen him. How he is. You’ve heard of how he was when he lost you before. And you continue to fight with him.”

“This is my marriage!” she seethed. “Not some business deal for you to negotiate! I’ll work it out with Giovanni, my way!”

“At what cost?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you. My marriage is more than this family, it means more to me than your Mafia business.”

“Is that so?” Dominic asked.

Mira scratched her brow. Dominic’s voice was soft yet unyeilding. “Nothing he does or says to you will change the fact that he has lied and deceived you about your sister and mother. Nothing. He knows this, Mira. It’s why he doesn’t think he has an option to fix things with you.”

“Stop, Domi,” she sighed.

“The inevitable is that you will accept your role as the
Donna
to this family by force or even worse by giving up. Neither option helps you or Giovanni.”

“No shit,” Mira said sarcastically. “I’m trapped. I have three kids, and him… I’m trapped.”

“I’m sorry you see it that way.” Dominic withdrew.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I’m angry at him. But I love him. I just can’t find a way to understand him right now.”

Dominic nodded that he understood.

Mira put her face in her hands. “I’m scared, Domi. I’m scared for him and of him.”

“So is he. That’s fear not anger you see ruling his actions.” Dominic said. “And if you don’t accept your role as his wife, and find a way to make him accept your role as his partner it could very well cost more lives.” Dominic tossed the newspaper article to her feet. Mira looked down at the paper then up to Dominic.

“So many men and women fear your husband. Even I do. It’s because he has so much power over all our lives. It’s ironic that you are the only person who has power over him, and you don’t even know how to wield it. That is the reason Flavio put you on a plane and sent you away from Giovanni. The reason we all breathed a sigh of relief when you came back to him and agreed to marry and build a family with him. Don’t abandon us now. Well all need you.”  Dominic smiled. He nodded respectfully to her and walked out. She reached down for the paper once more and looked at the picture of her slain doctor.

* B
*

Armando paced. He had waited for this day but nothing prepared him for how deeply painful it would be. The man who ruled his life, taught him everything, was slipping away. The doctor looked up from his father and shook his head. Marsuvio Mancini had been confined to his bed. He shriveled. His skin was pasty pale, and his lips grey and chapped. He was on a constant supply of oxygen and too weak to bathe or feed himself.

“He was fine a week ago. Walking around and drinking.” Armando reasoned.

“It’s pneumonia. And his lungs are the worst of it. Too much fluid.”

“How long does he have?” Armando asked.

“Days, we can’t say. We’ve done all we can. You should consider bringing him into the
ospedale
. Let us treat him there.”

“No!” Armando shook his head and blinked back his tears. “No
ospedales
! He doesn’t want it. Leave us.”

The man walked out. Armando went to his father’s bedside. He took a seat and touched his hand. Mancini opened his eyes. “Papa? The doctors say…”

“I heard the doctors, Armando,” Mancini chuckled. “They are fools. I’m not ready to die.”

The old man began to cough with hard chest rattling rasps. Armando turned for the glass of water and the coughing stopped. He brought the water over and put the straw to his father’s lips.

“Mirabella?” Mancini asked.

“She left the
ospedale
with the kids. Unfortunately it’s all I know.”

Though weak his father pushed back on his pillows. “Buhari?”

“We took care of him, Papa. His refusal to give you information on Mirabella and the
bambini
did not go unpunished. No worries. Rest. I have news,” Armando smiled. “Isabella is dead. The body found after the explosion is hers. We are sure of it. She won’t be a threat anymore.”