Arranged

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

C armella

“But I don’t like the medicine,” Becky said as she clung to her teddy bear.

I’d had my fill of runny noses, bronchitis, high fevers, and even two broken bones in one day. I’d fit in more patients in ten long hours than I had in weeks. All because it was cold and flu season.

My mind drifted off to the sunny shores of Cancun just briefly, but long enough to remind me it was time to book my vacation. Not that I’d had one in three years. But this was going to be my year.

I bent down, wiggling the bear’s paw. “But you do want to feel better so you and your bear can play just like you used to. Right?”

“Clever,” the girl sniffed.

“Clever?” I repeated and stole a look at the girl’s mother, who was fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“My bear. His name is Clever because he gets into trouble all the time but manages to convince Mommy I did it.” She started coughing again and I eased back, glancing at my nurse.

At this rate if I wasn’t very careful to continue wearing my mask, I’d be the one hacking and sniffling. I was a terrible patient. Most doctors were.

“Well, if that’s the case then I think Clever will be upset if you don’t take your medicine. He will certainly tell your mommy you haven’t been following my orders.” I wrinkled my nose on purpose, locking eyes with the rounded plastic pieces on Clever’s face.

Becky sighed and acted as if Clever was whispering in her ear. She finally nodded. “Okay. Clever said you were right and I need to take my medicine.”

“Well, then I am glad Clever could help. How about a lollypop in exchange?” I was no longer certain I was making decent sense. I was already reaching for the cannister filled with lollypops.

“Don’t forget about Clever.”

“Of course, I won’t forget about Clever.” I handed Becky two and headed toward the girl’s mother.

“Thank you so much for seeing us on short notice, Dr. Lupini. Becky refuses to see any other doctor.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment and my pleasure. Now, I’ve called in a prescription for some antibiotics and a stronger cough syrup than you can purchase on the shelves. However, don’t let the cough continue past five days. If so, come back and see me. I don’t want her cold turning into pneumonia.”

“I’ll keep a close eye. If I know my daughter, she’ll be a little cling-on during her illness.”

I laughed and peeled off the gloves, tossing them in the trash. “I have one of those. Take care.”

As I headed out, Zoe followed me. I could already see the smirk on her face. She was not only my main nurse at the clinic; she was also my best friend. As soon as I was in my office, I dropped into my way too comfy desk chair.

“You did great today,” Zoe offered.

“Do you mean with the puke at eight-thirty this morning or the squirt of ketchup covering my blouse?”

“Your first blouse. You had a spare.”

Laughing ached as did every other movement at this point. “Thank God for extra clothes.”

“Last patient. Time for you to go home and put your feet up. Unless you have a hot date.”

“Oh, please. You know I’ve sworn off men.”

“That’s right. Didn’t you call them twinkies?”

Snorting, I gave her a funny look. “What I said was their dicks were like twinkies. Gross on the outside and ooey, gooey in the middle. And in my case, the twinkie was cut in half.”

“Ouch. The visions will never leave my mind.”

I leaned my head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Who are you kidding? You’re dating a nice guy. As for me, I have a birthday celebration to head to with my great family.”

“Another ouch.”

The special ring on my phone made me groan. “Speak of the devil.” I didn’t bother asking her to leave. Zoe knew how hard I tried to avoid my family, especially my father. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, but just by talking to him, I was reminded of a dark past and a possible ugly future.

One I’d tried with everything I had to prevent.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Just a reminder that Amber’s party is tonight.”

“How could I forget? She’s turning the magical, terrifying age of seventeen. She has the entire world in the palm of her hands.” I adored my half-sister. I really did. But the huge Italian family get-togethers were something I wasn’t interested in participating in.

“Just be here. And make certain you bring a present.” My father had more money than God, but he never missed an opportunity for a freebie or a handout. Vendors used to drop off goods and products to our house all the time. Of course, I’d learned a long time ago some were bribes.

Like the new car still driven by my dad and his second wife.

“I’ll be there. I’m leaving work in a few minutes. A quick shower and I’ll be on the road.” I tried to keep a nice tone in my voice. I really did.

The hour drive wasn’t usually a big deal.

Except when I was tired.

Which seemed to be all the time lately.

“Don’t be late.” My father wasn’t his usual grouchy self. At least that meant maybe business wouldn’t interfere with the joyous celebration and I wouldn’t need to get into an argument with him as usually occurred.

I tossed the phone, returning to staring up at the ceiling. Here I’d thought life would get less complicated once out of the family enclave and living on my own. Maybe it had, but what I’d thought would be an easier, more fulfilling road was certainly draining.

“Don’t forget you have a seven-thirty appointment tomorrow.” Zoe acted as if she was telling me a secret.

“Oh, shit. I forgot about that.” It was a special favor for a long-term client, the woman fighting to keep her son from going to the hospital. “I won’t be late. I’m driving out, dropping off the present, and leaving after a piece of cake of course.”

“An hour there and back and you’re only going to stay until you wolf down cake?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I’m going to see if there’s any way to push Mrs. Mason’s appointment for Timmy back or to another day.”

I laughed as she retreated from my office. She certainly knew how I was when it came to what ended up being three visits a year. One for Amber’s birthday, another for my half-brother Michael’s, and another during the holidays. Although I never specified the visit would be on Christmas.

Arguments had a way of taking on entirely new meanings in the Lupini family.

Correction. In the Lupini crime syndicate family.

* * *

Alejandro

The room remained quiet while Don Santorelli absorbed the news, the only sound the ticking of his massive and beautifully ornate ancient grandfather clock. It was the first piece of furniture I’d concentrated on studying the day I’d first been brought into his office.

That had been day five after my hire into the organization.

He’d sat me down, offered me a glass of his finest scotch, a Cuban cigar, and had proceeded to ask me a few personal questions. Then he’d leaned over his massive desk and offered a piece of advice.

He’d told me that not only did he like me, he believed he could trust me. However, if I failed that trust in any way, he’d be the one to take me apart limb by limb.

After that, he’d mentioned that I’d beg him to kill me with a dull spoon if necessary.

I’d never forgotten the advice or the education on loyalty.

Don Santorelli was a formidable man even at his age. With only some gray at his temples, he could easily pass for someone in his late forties. He was fair but brutal, highly respected by his soldiers.

He’d even garnered the respect of powerful men outside the business such as the mayor, leaders of the port authority, and several celebrities. The man enjoyed celebrating his good fortune and wealth by attending soirees and throwing huge parties. It was something I’d warned him about as his lieutenant.

He’d laughed and told me life wasn’t worth living if you did it in a cage.

He was right about that.

His exhale was deep as he glanced toward Dion, tilting his head. When he shifted it to me before Gio then Bronco, the other two of three Capos, he was highlighting the pecking order once again. None of the crews had been asked to the meeting, the soldiers doing nothing more than preparing for their marching orders.

I had my hands behind my back, standing as a military man would do while waiting his orders. I assumed he would initiate a strike against Lupini and his organization. That was the way of crime syndicates. If your foe was alive after an attack, you would be bludgeoned to death in return.

“Relax, Banderas,” the Don said, using my last name as he always did in tense situations.

“Should I ready the soldiers?” Dion asked.

The Don took a puff of his cigar while swirling the same brand of scotch I’d been offered two years before. “We’re going to do things differently this time out.”

“How so, if you don’t mind me asking, sir.”

The Don took a sip of his drink, staring into the liquid before tossing the remainder into his throat. It was the only indication the night’s activities had troubled him to any degree.

He’d schooled me on the varieties of decent scotch after realizing how much I’d enjoyed his first selection. I’d learned that contrary to some popular views, the aged liquor was meant to be savored, not shot like tequila.

“Diplomatically,” he said after swallowing.

I glanced toward Dion who lifted his eyebrows. There had been a few times Don Santorelli had come up with some crazy ideas. I think we both felt as if this could be one of those times.

The Don didn’t bother to enlighten us before picking up his secure cell phone. I had to give the man and his intelligence credit. He had the most secure communications equipment of anyone I’d ever met, military included.

It was impossible to break into the system or obtain access to the estate. If you didn’t belong here, you were tossed in the East River with cement shoes.

He sat back as if he didn’t have a care in the world while the call connected. I knew the moment it did by the change in the Don’s eyes. They’d gone from the lighter blue shade to something much darker, more ominous.

He was preparing to play a game of Russian roulette.

“Yes, Don Lupini. It’s your good friend, Don Santorelli.”

I heard Gio whistle under his breath and shot him a warning look. Luis Santorelli didn’t like to be questioned or challenged about anything that came out of his mouth. We were alike that way.

“Yes, I know. It has been a long time. Too long.” All Don Santorelli had to do was steal a quick gaze toward the bottle of scotch and Bronco immediately responded, refilling without hesitation. “I would agree there seems to be some misunderstanding. You know what happens when these types of actions go unchecked.”

I sucked in my breath. Since when had the man offered an olive branch to the second most powerful Don in the upper Eastern half of the United States? Some soldiers might say he was going soft.

I knew better.

The man was conniving and very calculated.

He laughed as if the two of them were old friends. “Your daughter’s birthday party? My God. I cannot believe she turned seventeen already. It seemed just like yesterday I attended her christening.”

The way of politics within crime families, especially of certain descents. Weddings, funerals, and christenings were considered off limits to war play. But a member of the Borgata always attended, the unwritten rule yet to be challenged on my watch.

“I won’t keep you then, Matheas.” Using the man’s first name meant the situation was on hold. No action would be taken until we were told otherwise. “Yes. I agree. A meeting is the best way to handle the… misinformation. I’ll have my Underboss reach out to yours tomorrow sometime and arrange a neutral location.”

Neutral.

That meant either New Hampshire or Massachusetts.

Dion exhaled. He wasn’t a fan of the diplomacy Don Santorelli enjoyed using. Dion was only in his middle thirties, yet he preferred the old school methods of killing first, asking questions later. I’d often warned him that that way of thinking would drive him to an early grave.

“Well, that is a fabulous invitation, Matheas. I will definitely stop by. Please, tell your lovely wife I asked about her. Yes, thank you. All is well.” Don Santorelli ended the call, keeping the phone in his hand for a few seconds.

When he lowered his arm, immediately reaching for his scotch, he lifted a single eyebrow and stared directly at Dion. “We’re attending a party tonight, a birthday party. Alejandro, Dion, you’re coming with me. We leave in two hours.”

I sensed Gio was about to ask what the hell was going on, but Dion offered him a hard look as a warning. “Two hours, boss. I assume you’ll want to take a present with you.”

“Ah, yes. We’ll stop at my favorite jewelry store on the way. Thank you for reminding me, Dion. Two hours.”

“Yes, sir.” Dion motioned to everyone to leave the man’s office.

Bronco and Gio seemed almost perturbed, Gio cursing in Italian.

“ Il Don si ammorbidisce ,” Gio hissed.

Calling a Cosa Nostra leader soft was akin to calling him stupid.

I wasn’t shocked at Dion’s reaction when he quickly backhanded the man. No one disrespected the Don inside the family organization, least of all those considered the man’s most trusted advisors.

“ Sei su un terreno molto sottile ,” Dion told him.

You’re on very thin ice.

Gio’s one problem was he didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

“ Ascolta e osserva, altrimenti la tua lingua verrà presa per rappresaglia .” The saying was appropriate and something Don Santorelli had also taught me the very first week.

Listen and observe or your tongue will be taken in retaliation.

Gio snarled as he glared at me. “You’re always up the Don’s butt. I wonder why that is.” He backed away before I could react, Bronco even stepping in the middle of the corridor in hopes I’d let it go.

I took a deep breath and held it, nodding to Bronco. Tonight wasn’t the appropriate time to settle any score with the pompous son of a bitch.

“Don’t let him bother you,” Dion advised. “Troubles at home.”

“Another reason never to get hooked up with a woman.”

He slapped me on the back. “Good point. Let’s go have one drink before we head to a party.”

We both laughed, only my thoughts drifted to how Don Santorelli would attempt to keep a war from ensuing.

That was the last thing I wanted to happen.

Too much work had been put into maintaining a peaceful existence.

But if bloodshed was needed…

That was fine by me.