27. Salvatore
twenty-seven
Salvatore
We left the yacht anchored a few miles away from the dock and continued in a speedboat that was waiting for us. Two cars were waiting for us at the agreed spot on the docks, and so were the weapons in the truck.
It’s peaceful. Too peaceful. Is this a trap, or did we just plan this flawlessly?
I drive on the narrow streets of Calabria, passing old houses and architecture whose history is rooted deep in the byzantine era. This is my first time visiting this part of Italy, but I made it my mission to know about the origin of the country my ancestors and their enemies came from.
I drive up the hill toward the home my wife ran away from, being on alert about where and who I pass until we reach the sign for Villa dell'Amore Eterno.
I scan the area, looking for anything suspicious before I park down from the mansion, near the neighboring houses.
I turn toward Isabella. “Wait here, I will take one man. The rest will stay with you.” She isn’t as anxious as before, but still, there is worry on her face. “Now, give me a kiss. It may well be my last one if your father decides to put a bullet in my head,” I joke, but she nudges my shoulder and annoyance simmers in her eyes.
“Don’t joke like that.”
I smirk. “Then kiss me.” She does.
I exit my car and give orders to my men, taking one of them with me. The walk up to the gate of the mansion is not long, and when we arrive, I’m once more surprised that the gate is open and there is no guard. I walk toward the main door. I look around the garden full of trees and flowers.
Before I can knock on the door, it opens and an older man looks at me before he asks in Italian, “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Signore Ruggeri.”
“Is he expecting you?”
“I hope he is,” I say, even though that is not the truth.
“Follow me, Signore.”
I follow him as he exits and rounds the house to the back. The path is covered with rose bushes on each side, and I inhale the scent as I pass toward the pavilion, where I can see three men.
One is lean and wearing an expensive suit. His silver hair contrasts with his sun-kissed skin, and I recognize him as Isabella’s father. Two young men, probably soldiers, stand beside him.
When they see me, they go for their weapons. I don’t show any emotions as I approach with my hands in the air, as does the man with me.
“I don’t have any weapons,” I say loud enough for them to hear me.
They don’t speak however, Ruggeri gives his men a signal and they approach us. If Ruggeri recognizes me, he doesn’t show it.
When they are close enough, one stops us to search us for any weapons. I don’t need weapons to defend myself. I came here with a purpose, and that is not to fight. As the man searches us, my eyes never leave Ruggeri's. After his men have made sure we’re clean, they let us pass.
“You have some balls showing up here, and without my daughter. Where is she?”
“She is safe.” I look around and stop near the table. “I come in peace as we couldn’t make any deal remotely. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” He observes me for a moment before he stands and gives me his hand, and in this moment, I know I will have my alliance. The question is, what is the price?
“This is Carmine Fortuna, my consigliere.” He gestures toward the man on his right side, who still has a cautious look on his face. “And his son, Pino.” If looks could kill, I would have been a dead man. Carmine stands and offers his hand, but his son doesn’t.
Cutting through the awkward moment between Pino and me, his father tries to laugh it off. “Don’t mind my son. From a young age, he was very protective of Isa. They were practically raised together.”
A strange feeling overwhelms me. Rage and burning build from the pit of my stomach and climb up to my chest, wrapping around my lungs. The monster in me wants to come out and play. He’s already set his eyes on his next victim.
My hands close into fists to control my emotions, and I breathe in and out slowly.
I’m in control.
Ruggeri clears his throat. “Let's sit, shall we?” Ruggeri signals to us before sitting himself. “You are a long way from home, Salvatore.”
“Maybe. Let’s talk about the reason I’m here.”
“Rocco and I have an agreement. They don’t cross into our territory, and we don’t cross into theirs.”
“They’re not involved, but that doesn’t mean I’m alone.” Meaning my cousin will start a war if anything happens to me. If not because of me or the money he will get, because of his reputation.
He stays quiet for a moment. “I see.” Ruggeri understands what I meant. And he is not that young anymore, whereas my cousin is in his prime.
He takes a sip of the cold drink in front of him. “Tell me, what can I do for you?”
“I’m here because of the alliance we talked about.”
“The one you are pressing on because you married my daughter?” His demanding eyes flash with eagerness. “I told you I want to see her first.”
I narrow my eyes. “You will, after we negotiate our terms.”
“And those are?”
“First, tell me, did you investigate Sabatini? He is your man, after all. It is expected that you sent him.”
“I did not send him. I groomed him to take over, but for him to do that, he was supposed to marry my daughter.” Anger simmers inside me at the mention of it. “When she disappeared, the Commission- the mandamento demanded he need to bring something in, and he said he would. Here it is difficult for him to do such a thing. So, I believe he went to America for that reason. Unfortunately, I don’t know his plans.”
“Oh, I do. He wants my territory. Unluckily for him, he picked the wrong man.”
He looks at me, intrigued. “Why is that?”
“I’m a businessman first, then a mobster. What I can’t get done with influence and money, I do in other ways.”
“Interesting. I believe you have a proposition for me included in your negotiations.”
“Indeed, I do.”
“Let’s start then, but first, a drink.”
I watch Isabella walk in with her head raised high, two of my men following her and one in front of her. From here, I can’t see the emotion on her face, but I can see her fidgeting with the hem of her dress. I can see how her eyes steal a look at the roses as she passes them.
Ruggeri, though, looks like he is seeing a ghost. To him, maybe she is.
I observe the reaction of the men, who, like Ruggeri, have a different reaction to seeing her. But the look on Pino’s face differs from everyone’s. There is a smirk on his face and a look of pride in his eyes. The monster in me wants to smash his head on the table, but I calm him, knowing she is walking without panties with my cum between her legs, still smelling of me. Knowing she is feeling uncomfortable where my palms marked her ass.
When she is close to the table, before I stand, I lean toward her father and say only for his ears, “There is one thing left I didn’t mention. If you even think about disrespecting Isabella in any way, or if you think about retaliating for her escape, I will end you. If you look at her any other way than as a loving father, I will end you and I will do that with my bare hands.”
He searches my face and raises his eyebrow. “Is this a threat?”
I smile. “No, it is a promise.”
I stand and welcome her by wrapping my hand possessively around her waist and pulling her toward me. As soon as her body touches mine, she exhales, relaxing.
“Here she is,” I say with a kiss on her forehead. “Your father and I discussed things, and our alliance is set up. And, as I promised to your father, you are here so he can see you with his own eyes.” She looks at me, then at her father, who is still sitting in his chair.
They share a look, and though she was scared before, she isn’t anymore. She straightens her shoulders before addressing her father.
“Papa.”
He stands and takes a step toward us, not sparing me a look. He can’t take his eyes off her. “Isabella, my daughter. Let me look at you.” A smile spreads across his face. He opens his arms for Isabella, but my grip on her waist is firm.
Seeing my protective hand around her, his face falls. He takes the last step forward and puts his hand on her shoulders. I can feel her body stiffening as he kisses her on both cheeks and then her forehead.
“You look beautiful, just like your mother.” There is a strange look in his eyes, almost like regret. From what I gathered from Isabella, he loved his wife like a madman. “As your husband said, everything is set up, waiting for names to be signed. Now, I expect both of you to stay for dinner and tell me all about how you met and about your marriage.”
Before Isabella can answer, I decline. “I’m sorry, but that is not possible. We have already planned something. But we can stay for another couple of hours and tell you all about it.”
I don’t like staying in a place I don’t know, especially at night. And we still need to sign our alliance.
He doesn’t argue. “Then lunch. It is almost one p.m. I’ll let Ludovica make your favorite.” Isabella relaxes, and he goes back to his seat. “Before my lawyer brings papers for us to sign, I want to add one thing to this agreement.” I pull the chair beside me for Isabella to sit down, knowing she is safe beside me.
Taking my seat, I glance at him, my jaw tightening. “And that is? I thought we agreed on everything.”
“Yes, but this idea just popped into my mind. Something we both may benefit from.”
“What idea?”
He grins, his smile vicious as he looks between me and Isabella. “You are to provide me with a grandson.” The back of my neck prickles with sweat, and I swallow. This idea didn’t just pop up, it was there all the time. “One that one day will follow my footsteps. One I’ll leave all this to. Your firstborn or second. I don’t care. You will make sure to provide me with a grandson in order for our deal to work.”
The bastard. From the smirk on his face, it’s obvious he left this part until Isabella was here.
“Don’t take this personally, Salvatore. This is the same deal I had with Federico. It is only right that now this deal is yours. This is something I’ll request from any man Isabella should marry. This way, I get what I want, and you get your peace.”
Beside me, Isabella shakes her head, her lips pressed in a hard line. If she has something to say, she doesn’t.
“You have a year to conceive, or this alliance will end. It will also end if you ever divorce my daughter.”
This message isn’t just for me, it is for Isabella too. He is making his point to her that, once again, she has no control over her life. He is wrong, though. I will make sure she has a choice. Not just for her, but for me too, because his request is what I swore off. What I promised my father I will never have. And I plan to keep it that way.
One year is enough for me to eliminate every threat that comes my way. Meanwhile, I will have to agree to whatever he wants.
I don’t have time to overthink. It doesn’t matter because a man with a briefcase appears, the one carrying the agreement of our alliance.
Papers checked and signed with Ruggeri and my signatures and lunch eaten, it’s time to get out of this place to the safety of my boat.
I’m sure Isabella will appreciate it because even though her father said Parmigiana was her favorite meal, she didn’t touch any of it. Not to mention her never leaving my side or the way she was tense the whole time.
As soon as we’re back in the car and away from her father’s house, she lets out a breath and relaxes.
“When are we going back home?” Isabella breaks the silence that surrounded us all the way back to the docks.
“Tomorrow. Why?
“I want to show you something. Can the captain turn the ship around the coast? There is a place on the other side I want to visit.” Isabella motions left from where we are. Small boats and a few small yachts occupy the docks.
“I’ll let the captain know.”
Losing ourselves amongst the people and walking under the clear sky through the piazza between baroque buildings and palm trees, we hold hands like we do this every day. Like it’s normal.
I walk beside Isabella and her eyes sparkle while she assesses her surroundings.
I follow her as she pulls on my hand and leads me toward the old lady on the corner of the street where usually a farmers’ market is supposed to be. At this time of the day, I’m surprised there is anyone left with any fruits or vegetables.
She lets go of my hand, heading straight to the stand, exchanging words and smiles with the older lady standing behind it. The smell of peaches and various fruits explodes in my nose, reminding me of the first and last summer I spent in Italy. I shove that feeling deep down where it belongs and focus on the beautiful creature before me as she takes a peach and inhales the scent. Gone is the anxiety and fear, and back is the strong-willed, almost carefree woman I know.
From the corner of my eye, I see men turning their heads as they pass her and the switch of my possessiveness turns on. I wrap my hand around her waist.
“Are you going to buy something?” I whisper to her.
“Yes, I will. Do you want something?” she asks, picking the fruit.
I chuckle. “I’m fine with whatever you get for me.”
I take the money from my pocket and pay the older lady more than what all the fruits on the stand are worth, and with a smile, I take Isabella's hand in mine as we leave.
Isabella glances at me, giving me a bright smile. “I missed this.”
“What? Buying fruits?”
“No, this place. Usually, before noon, it is alive with people. Each one of them has their own story. They live for this. I used to come here with my mama. We used to come here every few days to buy supplies for home.” She pulls me toward the end of the street and shows me a gelato shop. “We used to eat gelato afterward. Come, it’s tradition.” She pulls me into the small shop.
An old man stands behind the gelato display freezer, and he smiles brightly when he sees Isabella. So does she, and she walks into his open arms.
I just watch as she talks to the man and tells him about her life and where she has been, what she has done. When she introduces me as her husband, I feel a strange sensation in my chest, like butterflies. I can’t explain it. But what is new to me is how she is in her element here, like she belongs here.
“What flavor would you like, Salvatore?”
“What?” I realize I was staring at her; I didn’t catch what she was asking.
“Gelato. You like fruits, chocolate, nuts. My favorite is pistachio. You should try one.”
“I’ll take whatever you take,” I say, ignoring the fact that I haven’t eaten anything sweet in years.
With a gelato in hand, the sun burns our skin as we stroll through the promenade of the beautiful lungomare where boardwalks are lined with beautiful palm trees, bars, and restaurants.
“I used to come here when my father was out of town. He was so protective of me when I was younger. I thought it was innocent, that he did that just because I was his daughter and he just loved me. I didn’t even know he was head of ‘Ndrangheta.” She laughs sarcastically. “When I used to ask him what his job is, he would say that he was a leader and that men worked for him. First, I thought he was a politician because lots of men followed him around. Some of them had weapons. When I grew up and saw the world differently, understood better, I figured since he spent so much time away from home, he could be the owner of a big company. I was fifteen when my curiosity got the better of me, and I did some digging about my father. One time, I sneaked behind the trees and heard the terrible things he ordered his soldiers to do. Then, after all my discoveries, I asked my mother. As soon as I asked her, she grew pale and weak. It was all I needed to know.” She stops and turns toward the sea, resting her elbows on high stone railings. “Not long after that, my father told me the truth, not that I knew what the mafia meant. I always thought the values I was raised with were because my mother was a devout Catholic, and she raised me to be one. I never knew most of those values were mafia-related. Not until the night my mother was killed. How was I to know that the father who loved me and cared for me was a killer? The head of the mafia.”
I don’t say a word; I stand beside her, and I let her speak what is in her heart, whatever memories this place has brought back to her.
She lifts her head toward the sun. “My father and mother kept secrets from me. My mother from fear, my father... I like to lie to myself and say he wanted to protect me, but we both know that is not the truth.”
I place my hands at both sides of her body. “I don’t know your father’s reasons, but he seems to care about you.”
She scoffs and turns to face me. “Maybe in his own twisted way he does.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “But that doesn’t matter either way. We are going back home, and you can forget about him. When our agreement is over, you will live the way you want.”
If I were the better man, I would acknowledge the hurt in her eyes the moment I mentioned our agreement and how it will expire.
But I’m not.
What Isabella and I have is business and nothing else. At least, that’s what I tell myself, but pain strikes through my chest at the thought of us having an expiry date.
No matter what her father asked, that will never happen. I have a year to end everything, but according to my plans, I will need less. Much less.