Strange that I have a sister I never knew about and that we’re so alike with our facial features and petite frames.
I turn my focus back to my subject and it looks like the gang is all here as well as a few bodyguards posing as guests.
Fantastico!
I slide behind a group of people and make it my mission to study them and find out where they bought tables. I should have done more than just one week of recon on him, but he’s fairly predictable, going to work daily and living in such an isolated place.
I could have killed him at his isolated farmhouse but between the guards and the rough layout of the vineyards made an approach out in the open detrimental to my end game.
It would be nice if I could have gutted him and left him to decompose until his brother found him. But no, that is not going to be his fate.
Tonight, he will be sorry to be a Micheli, but not before I extract information out of him. He launders the money, he’s the brother of the don, he’ll know what’s going on and lead me to Sofia.
Classical music floats across the room from the string quartet but I can’t let that distract me. Alessandro taught me that any discipline worth learning has to be done to perfection. Now, it’s second nature to block out unnecessary distractions as the swirl of the festivities fades to black and I focus on my hunt.
The other men around Sal act like familiars. They seem to know each other enough to make friendly conversation. If I had to guess I’d say they are on the fringes of the inner circle and are making points with the brother to the don. It’s safe to assume the trust only goes so far because one of the nearby tables has another mafia faction seated at it.
They look familiar but I wouldn’t know them by name. These are the types of men that move at night and behind the scenes and only one man high up in the organization would know.
Clearly Dante’s brothers know their place and don’t upstage the don for attention. In fact, the brothers don’t even have a companion with them.
I make my way to the open bar. Red wine seems fitting for the evening I have planned. I set out to identify the rest of the players in tonight’s game.
Ah, at last, I think I’ve identified Dante’s right hand man. He’s handsome, forty-ish, and when he’s not flanking Dante, he steps away here and there to talk to men at other tables, then carries news back to Dante. Their heads are close so I’m sure they are conducting business right under the nose of high society. Yes, I’m sure he’s Dante’s right hand man and the most trusted person next to his own kin.
And the other man at the nearby table is…I recognize him from the news. He’s from Florida, Viggiani. Yeah, Antonio. Wow, this is turning into a real ‘who’s who’ in the world of organized crime. No wonder a wall of men in suits surround him like a human shield. He’s in his late seventies and the years have not been kind to him as the head of the crime syndicates' American connection.
Probably too much sunshine, I muse to myself lost in thought. Though I’m not surprised and let out a tinyhuff. It seems fitting he’s in Florida at this age, having started out in New York and moving south like they notoriously do.
My plan to carry out debauchery in plain view of this esteemed guest list is brilliant and I want to laugh out loud at the sheer irony, but I hold my snicker in. Besides, it’s bad form to celebrate before I pull off my mission, bad luck too.
Shakespeare would be so proud that human nature is playing out flawlessly. Money, greed, power, and death all represented and coming together at the greatest and most publicized event of the year.
Dante is laughing with his brother as they walk to their table. When they take their seats, I glance at my sister who is hanging on Dante’s arm. Is that a humungous diamond on her finger? Engagement ring? How progressive of him, but a good call seeing as how he was a sworn bachelor for so long. He makes the most eligible bachelor list in Florence every year.
Sal flits around like a butterfly, one minute flirting with the server bringing him a glass of French champagne, the next minute snagging an appetizer off another server’s tray as she passes by. He turns to his younger brother, who joins the family at the table. My research says his name is Marchello, the youngest in the family.
The family lies low, and their name is unblemished, tied mostly by their family history of a huge war that raged with our grandparents and the sons. Amazing what a great public relations company can do for the family name. I’m not surprised as they are the Mafia royalty of Central Italy to those of us who know the name and history. They are the equivalent of my family in the south, before my father carried everything too far. His arrogance did him in and Dante is to blame for me being an outcast.
The press paints the Michelis as legitimate, focusing on their charity work and ribbon cutting ceremonies. You’d think Dante was running for office by the way he works the room tonight.
Men pay fealty while women bat their pretentious fake lashes at him and some even grab his butt as he gently moves their hands away. With his charismatic face and engaging smile, the title 'Mayor of Florence' would look good on him.
The woman next to him hangs on his every word and he acknowledges her by softly placing his lips on hers for a kiss that isn’t long enough to be considered bad manners at the prestigious event. Juliet, a sister I longed for since I was little, and I never knew she existed until a few months ago.
The rumor is she was the beginning of the end of my father, but no one will explain to me what that means. Did he meet her? Did he know she was his all these years?
Juliet is gorgeous with her black hair and smoldering eyes. I can see why Dante fell in love with her. Tonight’s event must be her first plunge into society. Her face is aglow, and her smile can’t be contained as she’s welcomed by people who line up to meet her. She has all the tell tales signs that show she is a socialite virgin as she demurely accepts the attention.
I swear, sometimes it’s as if Europe has returned to the dark ages. If a woman is too sexy, then she’s asking for it, but this woman is wearing a long off the shoulder dress that mixes conservative with sexy, and the winner is sexy. The light catches on her ringed finger hand she swings through the air.
I’m stunned that Dante is allowing himself to be vulnerable with a wife and future family the can be used against him. Does he think our silence is a truce between our families?
Hum. . . accidents happen all the time. So does mayhem.
This truce isn’t talked about but there is a lull in the air that implies it as months have passed since Dad’s funeral. And to think that I will fuck it up for the sake of finding Sofia will not go over well at home. Making a point to my brothers and Angelo Calabrese is a side benefit for keeping me out of the loop.
I’m pissed over the fact no one will say Sofia’s name. It’s bad enough that we had the illegal girls, but I could help them somewhat and intercede on their behalf telling myself I was a better person for keeping them alive.