Chapter 19
Matteo
“I think it’s smart to know your limitations.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Going to a nightclub is probably not the place to test those limits,” the nice woman politely suggests. The woman on my laptop screen appears to be a few years older than I am, in her mid-forties, with long, straight dark hair, a few gray strands framing her face. Her deep brown eyes possess a kindness I don’t deserve. And for that, I’m grateful.
Pulling open my desk drawer, I pick out a fireball candy. Pushing on the cellophane, I allow the candy to enter my mouth and instantly wince. I’ve eaten so many of these damn things I’ve gotten sores on the roof of my mouth. Hell, maybe the painful thought of lighting up these wounds by adding alcohol might be the answer to stop drinking.
I’ve only been working with this woman for a few weeks now, but it’s nice to have someone to confide in who understands without throwing judgment my way. It’d probably go better if I was completely honest. If I shared that, alcohol isn’t my only compulsion.
I’m also addicted to my wife. And there’s no living without Sydney.
“I’m trying to develop a healthy routine like we talked about. I’m getting up earlier and working out. Trying to reduce my stress.” Ha. Lies! I haven’t divulged I’m the son of a satanic crime boss who pushed my mother to take her own life, shunned his daughter for getting pregnant by captors settling a score with him, and putting a hit out on his sons’ women. “If I have any thoughts about taking a drink, I pop a fireball candy in my mouth and go for a run or return to the gym.”
“Good. This is all good. Be aware we’re only getting started. It’s not uncommon to have setbacks. Or to need inpatient treatment for a period.”
I in no way have time for that. And what good would it do? How could I concentrate on getting better if I was worried about Sydney the whole time I was there?
“Just know that I’m here if you need me. Don’t delay contacting me if the measures you have in place fall short. As you know, addiction may be the most powerful adversary you’ve ever encountered.”
I consider her statement, comparing my enemies. And I have to agree. My father is a formidable, diabolical foe, but I’m going to end him one way or the other. My addiction to alcohol has its claws deeply embedded into the very fiber of my being. There’s no me without it. There’s no nemesis as mighty as one that lives within you. It’s a part of you. Knows your weaknesses. Your greatest struggles.
Your tipping point.
Giovanni strolls into the body shop, hands in the pockets of his usual three-piece designer suit, wearing a smirk on his face.
“Who was that? Your Only Fans subscription?”
“Shut the F up, G. She’s my sponsor.”
“Your who?”
“I’ve done some research. Found an online alcohol therapy office. She’s providing counseling for my drinking. I’m hoping this will help.”
I can practically feel Giovanni shaking his head behind me. Whatever .
“Can you access them whenever you need them?”
“Yes, pretty much. Hell, I offered to pay double to have her available at a moment’s notice.”
Giovanni is stressing me out with this. I pull another fireball candy from my pocket, rip the plastic packaging, and pop it into my mouth before dropping the wrapper into the trash can beside my desk.
Giovanni looks down at the mountain of discarded cellophane and chuckles. “Between you and Luca… I hope you two have good dental insurance.”
Sliding off my shoe, I throw it at his head. I’m surprised at his quick reflexes when he ducks in the nick of time. “Must be nice to be so fucking perfect.”
“As a matter of fact, it is.” He laughs, dropping into the office chair facing me. “Max called me. He believes the package is going to be delivered to Rome next week.”
I instantly sit up taller in my chair. “I’ll call D’angelo. See if he can meet me there. Do you think Max can get any more details on the delivery site?”
“I’ll ask. If anyone can find out, he can. But if not, I’ll reach out to my father.”
I raise a brow at this. Romeo Messina, Giovanni’s father, is second in command to mine in the Messina crime family. We haven’t moved heaven and earth to hide our identities in the states, but have tried to keep a low profile. I didn’t realize G was staying in close contact with his father. My cousin is a smart guy. And as loyal as they come. He wouldn’t take undue risk leading my father’s henchmen to our door. “You talk to Romeo often?”
“No. And when we speak, it’s with Max’s assistance. On an untraceable line. Our conversations are usually focused on Mom. But I try to make small talk once in a while. So, I might be able to flush out if he or Vincenzo have travel plans.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.”
Later that evening, I’m stepping out of the shower when I notice my cell phone dancing across the bathroom countertop.
“Hello.”
“Cugino. Max has a date and a place. He said he can help you make arrangements to meet D’angelo in Rome. He’s already working on a new identity and passport for you, as well as your flight details.”
“G, I need to have a comprehensive plan for Sydney before I consider this trip.”
“Fuck, man. Can’t you trust that we’ve got her?”
“No! I need to know her schedule, and who’s assigned to her at home and at work if I’m going to be able to concentrate on Vincenzo.”
“All right, all right. I’ll ask Anthony to get you an itemized list. And you can always call him to check in. It might give you some peace of mind.”
Well, that goes without saying. “When do you think I can talk with D’angelo?”
“He should have everything squared away tonight. We’re going to make arrangements for you to leave this weekend.”
Hell, that barely gives me any time. “Just have Anthony—”
“Consider it done. I’ll have him stop by the body shop tomorrow with an in-depth schedule you can look over. Okay?” I can practically feel the eye roll through the phone.
“Yes.”
“And, Matteo.”
“Yes.”
“No alcohol!”
“Matteo,” my cousin, D’angelo, greets as I step into baggage claim.
“Dan.” I give him a tight embrace. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone from my mother’s side of the family. It may have been her funeral, now that I think about it.
I’ve always been closer to Giovanni, but this is likely because my father didn’t exactly create a welcome environment for my mother’s family.
“Let’s get you checked in to your hotel. You can rest after your long flight. Then we can order room service and review the plans for the delivery.”
“Grazie.”
Knock, knock.
Stepping close to the door, I glance through the peephole to verify it’s Dan and not someone coming to finish me off.
Cracking the door wide enough for him to move past me, I quickly lock it and slide the bolt. “Did anyone follow you up here?”
“No. My security guys have been keeping close tabs on everyone coming in or out of the hotel.”
The location is nothing to write home about. An older, average priced inn that caters to the transient international business crowd. My family would never stay in a place like this. They have properties that are under the Messina’s control they prefer to frequent.
“How have you been?” Neither of us spoke much en route to the hotel from the airport. Partially due to jet lag, and in part because it’s difficult to trust your surroundings, returning to the place you once fled.
But now that we’re completely alone, I let my guard down a little. “Truth? Not good.”
Dan gives me a concerned expression.
Keeping my voice low, I go all in. “I’m obsessed with bringing my father down. I don’t know if he’s caught wind of this, or if he’s merely evil enough to want to hurt me for being disloyal. But he’s put a hit out on my wife.”
“Fuck.”
“I’ve been trying to infiltrate his business communications to put a stop to them. Particularly his drug and weapons business. However, the safety of my wife is paramount. It makes it difficult to focus on anything else.”
“I understand better than you think.” Glancing over, I find Dan’s head dropped forward. “I’ve been under similar stress. Trying to keep Grace safe. She’s… well, it’s complicated.”
Grace is a name I’ve not heard him mention before. Yet she must be important to Dan for him to share this. I give him a reassuring grin. “If anyone can relate to complicated, I’m your man.” I chuckle halfheartedly.
“It’s a big mess. She was married to a ruthless gangster in London.”
Shaking my head, I drop my hand onto his shoulder. “This life isn’t for the meek, cugino.”
“Isn’t that the damn truth!”
Dan walks over to the phone on the nightstand. Picking it up, he asks to be connected to room service before ordering Cacio e Pepe ( cheese and peppers ), Carbonara ( a creamy Italian pasta ), and Carciofi all Giudia. ( fried artichokes )
“Grazie. Perfetto,” ( Perfect ) I acknowledge.
Dan hangs up the receiver and pivots, reaching into his satchel for a bound leather journal. “All right, let’s make a plan.”
Two days later, we are crouched outside of a container terminal at the Port of Civitavecchia. It’s well after midnight, making it easier to stay undetected. Dan has a team of men surrounding the area, but I don’t let this provide any false security. Vincenzo Messina has perfected these transactions over the years.
Between his stellar timing and the dirty Guardia di Finanza on the Messina payroll, they’ve gotten away with this shit for far too long. The local giusta ( police ) aren’t paid enough to deal with the organized crime syndicates in the area. They defer to the Guardia di Finanza, a military police force dealing with the illegal drug trade and smuggling. That’s smuggling of both goods and people. They patrol Italy’s borders and coasts in an attempt to combat financial crimes as well as to protect the public.
During the day, this port is normally a hot spot for cruise ships along the Mediterranean, but the more industrial side is also home to an energy bulk port, loading docks, and a service shipyard. From Dan’s research, this is where the Messina crime family accepts a lot of its drugs, weapons and ammunition, and occasionally girls. A change from when I worked with my father in Sicily. He brazenly snuck contraband in closer to home at that time.
It’s so dark, and the area so vast, it’s difficult to make out exactly what’s happening. Even with these night vision binoculars. However, it seems apparent something is being exchanged. There’s been no sight of my father or any of his underlings. Any I’d recognize, anyway. But I know they’re here. I’ve seen at least two G Wagon AMGs so far. My father’s vehicle of choice for his men. I don’t know what his fascination is with the high-performance Mercedes SUV. Other than it screams money. Pretentious asshole.
“It makes me sick.”
Dan turns to me, his expression blank.
“That I could be related to someone so wicked.” How can I have any blood relation to someone who could treat women this way?
All of a sudden, a thin older male comes into view. Hell, is that…?
“Your father?” Dan asks looking through his binoculars. “Yes.”
I barely recognize him. Time and years of immoral living have taken their toll on Vincenzo Messina. Good!
In a split moment decision, I pull the automatic rifle from where it’s strapped to my back and line the scope up with him.
Dan carefully places his hand on my forearm. “Matteo. Think about this for a moment. Are you sure that’s wise? We haven’t planned for this. Our only goal was to have multiple sets of eyes on the transfer of the girls so we can intervene when they least suspect. I thought our mission here was to ultimately do everything in our power to return them to their homes. Not start a war with the Messinas.”
He’s right. But my rage is winning out. The temptation is too great. That he’s placed a hit on my innocent wife.
I continue to steady my aim, frustrated when one of his subordinates keeps moving into frame. An expletive falls from my lips when it happens again. It wouldn’t surprise me if Vincenzo has trained them to be a human shield for him. Evil fucker. It’s almost like he knows.
The thought has barely escaped me when his personal buffer comes into clearer focus. It’s Nico.
As much as I detest my father, this is a risk bigger than a potential war with a crime family. I may be infuriated with my brother for staying behind to work alongside my father, yet I couldn’t live with myself if I took him out. I mean, he didn’t put the hit out on my wife.
Did he?
Lowering the rifle, I hang my head. “You’re probably right.”
Dan narrows his eyes, giving me a skeptical glance before peering back through the night vision lenses. “Nico.”
Leaning back against the metal shipping container, I let out an aggravated exhale.
Lowering his binoculars, he gives me a sincere expression. “You did the right thing, Matteo. Once you return home, I vow to keep you abreast of anything I hear. I support whatever you want to do as far as Vincenzo Messina is concerned.”
He lays his hand on my shoulder in solidarity. “Trust me, cugino. If you decide to come back and finish the job, I’m your right-hand man. I’m merely asking you to consider having a plan in place to deal with Romeo and his minions when they attempt to retaliate. Because they will retaliate.”
He’s right. Not to mention, I can’t risk adding fuel to the fire where the threat on Sydney’s life is concerned.
“Plus, from all I’ve pieced together, something sketchy is going on.”
“You’re just figuring that out?” I chuckle.
“No. I mean, with a few of your father’s men. Take Nico. He’s the only son who remains in Sicily, but we rarely hear of him being involved in anything except the brothels and sex trafficking.”
Maybe my brother’s addiction is women. But I know Nico. I would’ve seen some evidence of this before I left. He was never disrespectful to anyone, particularly women. And the few girls I remember him dating adored him. He never treated them callously. Didn’t discard them like used property as my father had when he was done taking advantage of the many women he devilled.
“Plus, he continues to work at the glass blowing shop.”
I scrunch my forehead in confusion. He’s right. None of this makes any sense.
“A few of my guys think it’s because Vincenzo doesn’t have faith Nico can take over as the crime boss. Instead, he’s leaning on his brother for that. But that seems odd too.”
“Why’s that? Romeo’s been working under my father for as long as I can remember.”
“From all we know of your uncle, he’s nothing like your father. And I’m certain Vincenzo has to wonder if Romeo can step into his evil shoes once he’s gone. I mean, he’d never be capable of…” All of a sudden, Dan becomes quiet. He has the look of someone who’s concerned he may have shared too much.
“Dan, you know you can trust me.”
“That’s not it. I’m just not sure I should tell you what our family has been thinking. I mean, there’s no real proof.”
I pause, preparing myself for whatever he has to say. By the look on Dan’s face, it’s not good.
“We don’t think your mother’s death was a suicide.”
What the fuck? I literally feel my heart stop beating momentarily.
“My father was convinced it’s a lie. Regardless of everything Vincenzo put her through, or how depressed she may have been, she loved you kids too much to leave you at your father’s mercy. None of it makes sense.”
“But the pills… the bottles of wine. I saw it all.”
“My father believed Vincenzo staged it to look like a suicide. Matteo, we’re certain your father had her murdered.”