Page 13 of Lorenzo

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“Yes.”

“I see,” Gio reached over and picked up his office phone. “Get me Antonio, please.”

Seconds later I heard Gio say, “Tony, please contact the Atlanta, Georgia police department. I have Donatella Stevens in my office and she just informed me that there were two murders right off Campus that are similar to her sisters. See what you can find out. Ms. Stevens, what college are you attending?”

“Georgia State University. My apartment is on High Street. Two blocks from campus.”

“Did you get that Tony? Okay, let me know what you find.” Gio said hanging up the phone.

“Someone want to tell me what is going on here? I get the feeling you know more than you’re letting on.”

“Ms. Stevens, I can assure you that we know just as much as you at this point and though I am not one to speculate, I do find it rather odd that your sister and two of your friends have been murdered. I don’t believe in coincidences, so this is something I can’t ignore.”

“I agree.”

“What can you tell me about your parents?”

“Mom and Dad?” Donatella smarted, her eyes narrowing a fraction before her face relaxed looking at both of us.

That was odd.

“They were killed in a car accident. What do they have to do with any of this?”

“Had your sister mentioned anything nefarious about their deaths? Anything that she thought seemed odd?”

“No. What is going on?” she replied, her demeanor completely reserved. She was hiding something. I knew it. When she arrived, she was relaxed but angry, now she was closed off, careful with words. I didn’t know if Gio caught it but I did and when Gio said nothing as he pressed a button on his desk, I knew he didn’t.

Seconds later in walked my sister Illyria and soon-to-be sister-in-law, Layla. “Ladies, thank you. Could you both please show Ms. Stevens to a guest room? That way she can freshen up. Ms. Stevens, I believe for the time being that it would be in your best interest to stay here with us until this matter is resolved.”

“What matter? You haven’t said anything.”

“Bambina,Tesoro,will you please show Ms. Stevens to a room. I need to speak privately with Lorenzo.”

I stayed in my seat as my sister and Layla carefully ushered Donatella out of the room. When the door closed behind them, I turned just in time to see Gio blow. “What the hell have you gotten this family into now, Lorenzo!”

“Nothing. I swear.”

“While you’ve been lounging around the house like some pampered visitor, I’ve had members of this family trying to figure out what is going on. The private investigator you hired and never heard from again. He’s dead, Lorenzo.”

“Well, that explains why he didn’t return my calls,” I mumbled.

“This isn’t funny Lo. Somehow, you managed to step into something I’ve been trying very hard to distance our family from. Penny’s parents, the couple you had the investigator look into, they weren’t just your run-of-the-mill family. Mr. Stevens had ties to the Costa Family in Miami.”

“Okay?” I replied not understanding the connection. So they were Spanish. So were hundreds of thousands of Americans. What does that have to do with the shit going on now?

Gio pinched the brow of his nose, before adding, “Lorenzo, the Costa Family is in bed with Vito Bianchi. Remember him? The man who runs the baby farms in Italy. The man who harbored, forced and raped Catalina, our cousin’s wife, so she would give birth to a child for money. He is also the same man who ordered a hit on me and my woman.”

“But what does that have to do with Penny and Donatella?”

Gio looked directly at me and clearly said, “I fear you stumbled into something way bigger than your followers on your Instagram page brother and whatever it is, this is just the beginning.”

Five

Lorenzo

Donatella Stevens wasn’t anything like her sister Penny. In fact, they were miles apart. Penny was polished, confident and would never be caught dead in a white tank-top, jean overalls and a pair of dirty black boots that looked so worn out. I was afraid they would fall apart if she took another step. But that was exactly what her sister Donatella was wearing. To make matters worse, she wore no make-up and her blonde chestnut curly hair was piled high on her head in some kind of messy style. It looked like she didn’t even bother running a brush through it.

The woman had no manners, talked with food in her mouth and used her hands to eat chicken. I know Illyria put silverware on the table because I held a damn fork in my hand. What the hell?


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime