“No word yet?” she asks.
“No, I might as well be locked in a vault.” I sit on my bed with an unopened book in front of me and turn the TV on to distract myself. “I’m climbing the walls being alone. You’re so lucky.” I sigh.
“When is your brother settling down?”
“No idea.”
“We have to plan a day together. You need to get out.”
“True. I’m looking forward to the gala at the Borghese Museum in Rome.”
“You and your art.” Laura remembers me lagging behind the rest of the class on our first field trip to a museum.
“Well, promise me you won’t get lost this time. I don’t want to go looking for you again.” She reminds me of our past as I watch her stand in front of her dresser where her phone is propped up as she puts a dainty diamond necklace around her neck.
“I won’t get lost. You’ll never let me forget that, will you? Besides, there will be too many people there to be alone. I wish we could sneak out. I need room to breathe. I can only hope I get lost in the conversation and paintings. It will be a good turnout. Mama and I finished hand addressing the envelopes for the largest donors weeks ago.”
“You do have great handwriting. Calligraphy is a lost art. I’m glad you’re able to use your gifts.”
She grabs the phone and I see the inside of her room as she gathers her purse and light coat off the bed.
“You’re so pretty,” I say. For a second, I wish I was Laura, confident and flawless in everything she wears.
“I gotta go, talk tomorrow?”
“Yes, let’s plan to shop and maybe get our nails done,” I suggest.
“Hang in there. You never know when you’ll meet the right guy. Hell, it could be you getting married next.”
I can only manage a wan smile. It’s doubtful I’ll meet any man my father approves of. He will be the one to find me a husband, it’s just not his priority right now.
I’m looking forward to the gala in Rome. Not only do I want to see the art but I also want to check out the eye candy. It would be nice to find someone suitable to have an intelligent conversation with, but it would be tough to give my guards the slip. At the very least, I hope we stay overnight so I can walk around the Coliseum and see what new items they’ve unearthed before we head home.
“Gotta go. Ciao,” and she blows me kisses as I blow a kiss back.
Ciao indeed. I’m caged like a goddamn bird while she gets to enjoy a hot date and the latest American blockbuster. It’s not fun being the principessa because I find myself sitting on the sidelines watching everyone else live their life.
5
Massimo
Idrive an hour to the port and check in with the men on the docks. I check for myself that work is done correctly. Then I leave, moving to a higher place up the mountain to watch the trucks pull out. I marvel at the irony of how we all do the same crimes.
Each outfit is like the other only the faces and names are different. Our personalities might be more extreme and our leadership might have different goals. Albanians, Italians. . . same routine repeated over and over again just like anywhere else in the world. No doubt there are surprises that lurk behind every face, and every shipment. Not to mention new players we are leery of you until we earn their trust, and that at times, that doesn’t go very far. It’s more of a business acumen we learn on the streets.
I’m sure there’s more bad shit I couldn’t possibly be aware of as this is a dangerous business. One where the rules are the rules and perception isn’t always the reality. Tragedy may befall a person who didn’t deserve the consequences they received. Like life, it’s not always fair.
Collateral. There’s always collateral damage. It’s why my grandmother isn’t here today, and Grandpa keeps a low profile. She didn’t know she was taking a bullet for him, but it happened nonetheless. True love? Possibly. Tragic all the same. Grandpa never remarried. I assume he’s encouraging me to get married so I don’t grow old alone. I’m young, still making my way in the world. As the youngest lieutenant, no one dares breathe a word of favoritism.
It’s only a matter of time before jealousy over rank or money gets in the way of the ‘family’. I surmise that it’s more likely someone gets greedy, and a chain of events happen. Sometimes no one can predict the damage that will be done until restitution has been made—or taken.
That’s when bad shit happens. We don’t kill over debts from gamblers, they are worth more to us alive than dead. It’s another matter altogether when one of our own steals or someone in another family is stealing from everyone. I don’t know why Don De Luca of the Cosa Nostra would want to steal from our pipeline to Eastern Europe. We’re the only family with contacts in Belarus that go into Russia. Lies are lies, and it’s only a matter of time before they are uncovered.
All Syndicates have a code of silence and brotherhood, but we’ve adapted to working with many of foreign countries. The world went Global, so did we. Still, I’m insane infiltrating the Michelis, but it’s not unheard of as there are moles everywhere. How else would we own so many politicians?
Here, in Italy, we bribe them with information we have on them or entrap them in something so we get what we want. In other countries, the elected officials are essentially their own mafia as they control channels to the outside world. People know they exist but can’t say much because they can make your life miserable in your own community, like in Russia.
It’s two in the morning and I should go to my shithole of an apartment in downtown Florence. It’s in a rough area where many Chinese and Nigerians live, mostly illegals. I use it during the week as it helps with my double life. It’s next to empty and provides a great cover for me. My mansion in Fiesole is reserved for days I can take off and not jeopardize the fact that I’m Massimo Rizzo to the Italians mafia, even though my real name is Romano.