Battaglia Mafia: La Famiglia Part 35

She needed him desperately.

Yerevan City, Armenia Lorenzo's pager buzzed in his pocket. He tossed his luggage in the back of the car and reached in his trouser pocket to retrieve it. The code '888' was Marietta's. Eight was a s.e.xy number, full of curves, that's why he gave it to his lady. The page was an emergency flare from his bride. One he told her to never use unless it was d.a.m.n important. And she would use it just five hours after he last saw her? He shook his head with mild amus.e.m.e.nt. "d.a.m.n woman. I miss her too."

"Cosa c'e?" Carlo asked. He slammed down the trunk and walked around the car.

"Marietta. She wants me to call home." Lorenzo grinned.

Carlo snickered. "And so it begins. Will you be able to p.i.s.s without asking for permission to hold your own d.i.c.k?" he asked before climbing inside behind the wheel.

Lorenzo laughed and got in on the pa.s.senger side. He could give a s.h.i.t about Carlo's taunts. He missed his wife too. They were newlyweds. She made it almost impossible for him to leave her bed. Lorenzo could still smell the sweet fragrance of Shalimar. He should have packed a bottle to take with him.

He had no time to find a phone to ring her back. The sooner they met with Alik Yeremian the better. "Drive into the city. Domi said Yeremian's men will meet us in front of the Katoghike church," Lorenzo instructed. He dropped the pa.s.senger seat back and slouched a bit to get comfortable for the drive. Immediately they encountered a traffic jam of honking motorists. Lorenzo removed his pager and stared at the number again. He knew Marietta was strong. He knew she was safe. But still to see the emergency number did give him pause.

Carlo glanced over and he could feel his stare. "You worried about her? Do you want me to find a phone?"

"She's there with Giovanni. He wouldn't do anything to harm her," Lorenzo said.

"He won't do anything to make her feel welcome either," Carlo said.

Lorenzo exhaled. "Have I put her in danger. Am I a fool, Carlo?"

"Truth?"

"Yes," Lorenzo said.

"You love her. And love makes any man a fool. I respect Gio but I'm with you on this, Lo. He needs to step aside and let the sisters know each other. I lost a brother. If I had done things differently with Carmine he'd be alive. I have to live with that. What you do for the Donna and Marietta is just."

The truth was very sobering. Lorenzo churned on it. "I regret what happened with Carmine. You do know that. Don't you?"

Carlo didn't answer. The pain for him must still be too raw. Lorenzo relaxed. The page from Marietta could only mean she was bored. He'd make it up to her later. "After we conclude our business we find the first thing out of this country." Lorenzo said.

"Strange, you and her. Never seen you like this." Carlo shrugged.

"Like you said, she's my heart. I won't f.u.c.k this up. Not her. Not this time. I learned my lesson with Fabiana. No one will hurt Marietta."

"She's different," Carlo said. "Different in a good way. I think she's perfect...uh, for you."

Lorenzo looked over to his friend. "You do?"

Carlo forced a half-smile. "Not easy to find a woman who can stand at your side. You and Gio are lucky to have these sisters. That's what I think."

Lorenzo laughed. "Since when do you have a soft spot for women?"

"I'm not a monster," Carlo grumbled.

"Says who? I know your a.s.s. You've been a monster since you crawled out of your mother's s.n.a.t.c.h!" Lorenzo teased. When Carlo didn't laugh in response he stopped smiling. They were boys, only fifteen when a girl in the village accused Carlo of raping her. Lorenzo knew his friend didn't do it. Yes they loved their d.i.c.ks but they never forced any girl into s.e.x. No one believed Carlo. Not even Patri Tomosino. The girl only made the accusation because she was caught, and losing her virginity to a village boy like Carlo was blasphemous. She was a distant cousin of the Mancinis. Because of the accusation Mancini made sure Carlo was sent to a juvenile center until he was eighteen. Locked away for three years. When he came out he had changed, particularly his att.i.tude toward women. Lorenzo saw the anger he flashed the other s.e.x in an instant and ignored it. He watched over the years the trail of tears after Carlo seduced, romanced and quickly discarded girlfriends. It became an unstated rule amongst the men to never leave their woman alone with Carlo. That might be unfair, but behind every lie there is a little bit of truth. Besides Carlo's mother, sister and the women in the Battaglia family, Carlo showed no person of the opposite s.e.x respect. It was the way it was.

"I'm kidding. You aren't a monster." Lorenzo said.

"Yeah, f.u.c.k you," Carlo mumbled making the lane change. Lorenzo relaxed. He'd deal with his Marietta later. They had business to conclude.

* B *

Marietta wept. She paced. She waited for the phone to ring. Lorenzo swore to her if she were ever in trouble she could page him. No matter the distance between them he made the sacred vow to protect her even from herself. And she vowed to do the same. Until death do they part.

After thirty minutes of waiting, pacing and waiting she was in a state of sheer panic. She needed to hear his voice. Tell him of the letter. Let him convince her not to read it. Trust him again. But he hadn't called! And the letter taunted her. Called her name.

To silence the doubts Marietta put her hands to her ears. "Stop!" she begged. But nothing stopped the voices in her head. The lies of Teresa Leone, Gemma, the nasty predictions from her so-called father that she'd be nothing but a wh.o.r.e like her mother. She shook her head hard to stop the voices.

"Please call me, Lo. Please." she wept.

Marietta dropped to her knees. He would call. He had to. He was all she had. And she sat there for thirty more minutes believing in him. After the last of her tears fell she knew a different truth. He would not save her, no one could. Marietta glanced to the letter on the bed. She stared at it. If she didn't read the letter she would be running again. If she did read it she could prove it was lies.

There was something else to consider. If the letter had been given to her by anyone other than Gemma she'd have tossed it in the trash. What was Gemma's angle? The b.i.t.c.h had more than enough opportunities to share this truth with her. Why confess it all to her now?

She sniffed, wiped her tears with a shaky hand. Catalina said Mirabella owned a bracelet like the one she's cherished. Proof. Gemma said that Mirabella possessed the evidence.

"No. No it's a lie." She shook her head hard. She felt her sanity slip. It was as if the darkness in her life was slowly winning. "Not true. It's not true," she said.

Someone knocked at the door. Marietta nearly jumped out of her skin. She wiped at her smeared mascara and managed to get to her feet. "Yes?" she answered.

"Ciao! The Donna asked that I check on you. Do you need anything?" a voice inquired.

"Go away!" Marietta shouted.

Whoever it was walked off. Marietta's gaze returned to the envelope. She looked away. "Call me, Lorenzo. Please, my love. Please," she said trying to hold on to some hope. She forced herself to wait.

* B *

Carlo stood outside of the car. Lorenzo remained inside. He watched the few pedestrians strolling along the sidewalk in front of the church. They'd been waiting for close to an hour. Yeremian was a friend of the family, but in their world the definition of friend was always shifting. With Mottola now trying to cut deals with the `Ndrangheta and the Armenians, Lorenzo had to wonder if Alik was in on it. The meeting he'd asked for could be his last if Yeremian had decided so.

He opened his car door to tell Carlo his suspicions when two pa.s.senger vans arrived. They boxed him and Carlo in. A dark window with tinted gla.s.s rolled down. "Get in!" a man said.

Lorenzo and Carlo entered the vehicle without a word pa.s.sing between them. The van sped off. Neither the man behind the wheel, nor the one on the pa.s.senger side spoke. Lorenzo glanced back to see the van following could have up to six or eight along for the ride. He glanced to Carlo. They exchanged a look to be ready no matter what was to come next.

There were brutal men and crime families across the globe and they've dealt with many. But the Armenians were different. They lived by a code unmatched by any other. Like the Camorra they had clans and clan bosses who ruled by regions. They were known as the 'Akhperutyuns'. Most of the clan bosses learned and organized the rules of their brotherhood in Russian and Turkish prison camps. Each clan could be recognized for their ruthless and often s.a.d.i.s.tic forms of torture. Having the Akhperutyuns as allies after Mottola's betrayal was a must. Having them as an enemy would be an entirely different matter.

They drove out of the city toward the mountains. Lorenzo reflected on his last visit and how many times he had put his life on the line for the family. Now he did care to live. He had someone to live for. It gave him a perspective he rarely accepted in his life. The silent buzz of his beeper in his pocket vibrated once more. He removed the pager to see it was Marietta.

He frowned with concern.

* B *

"d.a.m.n you!" Marietta yanked the phone from the wall and threw it across the room. "d.a.m.n you, Lorenzo-a.s.shole-Battaglia! d.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l!" she yelled.

Marietta didn't care who heard her. The truth sank like a steel blade into her heart. Never had a betrayal of anyone in her life hurt so badly. Desperate for relief she marched over to the bed and threw herself on it. She rolled away and her eyes fastened to the letter. Marietta squeezed her eyes shut. To read it would only make her suffering worse. To ignore it would only prolong the inevitable. She sat up and s.n.a.t.c.hed letter. Through a veil of tears she opened it.

Marietta, When I learned you had arrived in Sicily I came. I've been in Milano for months waiting to hear from you. In my heart I knew this is where I would find you. I write this letter in haste to get the news to you. My prayer is you will believe and forgive me for all that I have kept from you.

I've closely guarded the secret of who you are for years. Not to hurt you, or deny you, but to protect you. I had hoped that what Capriccio and I did would keep you far away from the people who harmed your mother.

It has gone beyond that now.

First, I must confess who your mother is. Her name was Melissa Ellison. We called her Lisa. And yes, I lied to you, I knew her well before she died. The question I must answer for you is why I kept her ident.i.ty a secret. Lisa was a sweet generous girl when I knew her. She hated and feared a man named Marsuvio Mancini. He was and still is an evil Sicilian monster who went by the name Manny Cigars. He terrorized many people in Philadelphia, black or white, it didn't matter. He stole your mother from her family and kept her with him for years. He put her on drugs. He raped and brutalized her until she had nothing in her life to hope for.

I first met your mother at a club Manny owned. She was a very shy, very nice girl. She had the voice of an angel. She used to sing, and sew costumes for us girls who did other things for Manny Cigars and his men. Until she gave birth to you and everything changed.

I'm sorry to tell you that she's dead. This is important for you to understand, Marietta. Your mother was murdered. A contract was put out on her life, yours, and your twin sister Mirabella Ellison. I'm sorry to have kept this from you. I was the one that helped hide Lisa from the Sicilians. I was the one that kept your ident.i.ty secret along with your birth father. Capriccio and I only wanted to make sure that the Battaglias and Mancinis never knew you lived. Mirabella was given to her grandparents. She does not know she has a twin sister. She never knew her mother's story.

I know this is confusing. There is so much more to this story to tell. But for now you have to get out of Sicilia. You have to get away from these people. Don Giovanni knows who you are. Lorenzo Battaglia only married you to control you. He will kill you, Marietta. Please heed my warning.

If you doubt what I am saying then seek proof. Mirabella owned a bracelet. A childs' bracelet. I don't know if she keeps it still but she owned it at one time. Show her your necklace. Ask her the name of her mother. And then give her this letter. But leave.

Call me. I will help you Marietta. I swear it on my life.

Forgive me, Gemma Marietta turned the letter over and read the number scribbled on the back. There had been so many lies. All her life she had been lied to. And Gemma was now the queen of lies. How many times had she wept against her breast after suffering so much physical and mental abuse from her adoptive father? How many times had she begged Gemma to help her find her mother? What about the trip to Milano? What about the hunt for a father by the name of Capriccio? What about the fake birth certificate that sent her on a wild goose chase? A lie. All orchestrated by Gemma way before she met Lorenzo.

She could trust no one.

Except Mirabella. Her sister was being deceived. Marietta dropped over to the bed and closed her eyes. She clutched the letter to her chest and wept.

* B *

Mountainous hamlets were accessible out of the city of Yerevan through long winding unpaved roads. Most of the journey was a b.u.mping, jostling ride. Lorenzo swallowed his lunch and suppressed the nausea of carsickness. They pa.s.sed pastures of cows, and bulls with horns herded by farmers. The remote location, decrepit living shacks and thinning herds was a product of the villagers' descent into poverty after the end of Soviet rule.

Men like Alik Yeremian lived in the impoverished terrain, such as, Khoznavar like Kings while those around them suffered. Alik's legitimate business doled out machinery and farm animals to the villagers to produce milk, cheese, and sour cream to be sold and profited upon by him solely. The villagers' were only able to sc.r.a.pe by with feeding their families.

The stone houses that peppered the landscape were small and una.s.suming. When they arrived at the tall gates of Yeremian's private territory men with guns flagged them in. They drove in to progress on a newly paved circular drive. A prosperous three-story mansion greeted them. The gates to the old brick fort, which guarded such a lascivious monument to wealth was once again sealed.

"Alik has done well for himself," Carlo whispered.

Lorenzo nodded with worry. He wondered if Giovanni realized the extent of Alik's prosperity. "I'll do the talking," Lorenzo said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Carlo shrugged. He was a man of few words. In an engagement such as this it was always Lorenzo's wits over Carlo's brawn.

Lorenzo opened his car door and left the vehicle. Two armed men greeted him, their guns leveled. He put up his hands as a third approached. He was searched for a gun or weapon. They found none. He and Carlo could not arm themselves properly on this impromptu trip. If they entered Turkey or Armenia with a weapon and were caught the consequences would be grave. So he allowed the search without complaint.

The man grunted in his native tongue for Lorenzo to follow. He did. Carlo was held back. This did give Lorenzo pause. He didn't want to be separated.

"Parev Lorenzo! Intcbess es?" A voice boomed above. Alik stood at the top of the grey marble stairwell with his arms open in greeting. Alik Yeremian was at least five to six years older than Lorenzo. He was plainly dressed in green pleated baggy trousers a grey b.u.t.ton down shirt and sneakers. "When Giovanni called and requested this visit I had hoped that he would accompany you." Alik bounded down the steps with his hands shoved down into his trouser pant pockets.

"Giovanni sends his regrets," Lorenzo said. He embraced Alik and smiled. "What is with the welcome party?" Lorenzo half-chuckled at the others flanking him with guns. "Are the Battaglias no longer welcome in Armenia?"

"Trouble." Alik replied. "I have to be careful these days. Come. Let's talk." Alik dropped his arm around his shoulder. They walked off toward the left wing of the estate. The room they entered had all kinds of military monitoring equipment, and weaponry as if it were a command post for a small army. Lorenzo frowned.

"Now you have me curious, Alik. What trouble are you facing?"

"The same trouble at your door. A group of rebels who follow a man named Varo. He has started his own clan in the Akhperutyun in an attempt to overthrow me. He has ties now to the Camorra I'm told. This I learned after Giovanni informed me about his concerns over Mottola. So you see my concern."

Lorenzo exhaled. "Let me guess? Mottola wants to arm Varo in his fight against you."

"Ayo. And I hear he's already done so. Men of mine have fallen thanks to the Camorra." Alik walked away. "How does any of this happen on Giovanni's watch?"

Lorenzo's gut clenched. Behind him a shadow drew closer. Lorenzo felt rather than saw the approaching danger. A man, possibly with a gun, drew closer. If the word was given a bullet would be launched into the back of Lorenzo's skull. Alik's friendly smile had been replaced with a malevolent glare. There were only seconds left to turning the conversation around. Lorenzo's jaw went rigid tight, which made his voice stiff and unrepentant. "It has not gone unnoticed by Giovanni I a.s.sure you. Which is why I'm here. Mottola is one of the few clan bosses in the Neapolitan with an ego bigger than his might. Can you name a Battaglia who has helped him?"

Alik shook his head slowly no.

"I intend to get to the bottom of it."

Alik didn't appear convinced. The hard glare in his coal black irises made the hairs on Lorenzo's nape stand on end. He couldn't trust the situation further. If the Battaglias were tied to arming a rebel faction in the Akhperutyun, Alik had a right to be leery of them.

"How shall we prove it?"

"Prove it?" Alik smirked. "Why prove anything if you are not guilty?"

"The guns are Giovanni's. They come from his bay. We intend to rectify this matter. Prove our allegiance. Regain your trust. Stop Varo so we can bag our common enemy, Mottola. All I need to know is where to find this man?"

Alik laughed. He gave a look to the a.s.sa.s.sin behind Lorenzo and the person drew away. Lorenzo resisted the urge to glance back over his shoulder to be sure the threat was gone. Alik began to pace with his hands clasped behind his back. "We haven't been able to find the hole he scurries to. He and his men are constantly on the move near the mountains. The desert rat hides beyond my reach."

Lorenzo smiled. "Because he knows you search for him. If he is working with Camorra wouldn't he be willing to let us in the door that is closed to you?"

Alik stopped his pacing. A light of understanding flashed in his eyes. "It is dangerous to play this game here, Lorenzo. The republic is on the hunt for the Akhperutyuns. I cannot protect you. Nor am I inclined to risk the lives of my men."

"I a.s.sume all risk," Lorenzo stated.

"Yes. You will. Because if you fail we shall have another discussion. Are we clear?"

"We are." Lorenzo agreed.

Alik's gaze swept him. "What do you propose?"

"To take his head. We only ask for a way out of this country when the job is done."

Alik stroked his beard. "We have been friends for many years. I will extend the trust to the Battaglias once more. I owe it to Giovanni. But let me be clear I won't lift a finger to help you. And I want his head. Fail me? And I may be inclined to take yours if you survive the night."

Lorenzo nodded that he understood. "It's a deal I want to make."

He didn't know how he intended to pull it off. But he was certain of one thing, if he and Carlo wanted to leave the country alive they would have to.

* B *

"Thank you, baby," Mira smiled. "I wanted her to sleep with us."

Mira fixed the sheet around Eve. Her daughter spit her pacifier out. She seized the moment to take it from Eve and placed it on her dresser. Eve's lips puckered as if she still sucked it. She couldn't get over how adorable her daughter was when she slept. Giovanni yawned before joining them. She reached over and ran her hand over his bare chest. It felt good to touch him again. She had half a mind to ask that he put Eve in her crib so she could lay with his arms around her.

"You okay?" Mira asked, running her hand up and down his chest. His gaze lowered to her touch. Giovanni insisted on carrying her around the house. She thought it was cute. But she had to worry for his back. She weighed close to 190 pounds now.

"I'm okay. It's been a long day, Bella," he replied. The look he gave her made her smile. He too felt it. The loneliness in their bed since s.e.x was now off the menu. He didn't mention it but every morning he woke with a hard-on.