Chapter 51
All the feelings rush back into me, making it hard for me to breathe. Seeing all three of them here, together, being surrounded by their cologne and all the testosterone and each of their own special scents, I’m lightheaded for a moment. I don’t trust myself to speak.
Alessio beckons the head waiter. Says a few words and palms something to him. Cash, I expect. The maitre d’ and two other waiters go to the few diners at tables in the back part of the restaurant. They bend low to speak. Then, first one table then the next get up and move to tables at the front.
The maitre d’ pulls doors and screens shut so we’re closed off from the people out in front. He clasps his hands and says to Alessio, “You won’t be disturbed.”
Carlo was the only one of the Fortunas I expected to see, and I prepared myself for a dry and cold meeting with no good outcome. Now I’m surrounded, penned in by all three of the men that I love. Now I’m shocked at myself for thinking that way. It makes me feel exposed. Naked in the wind.
My cheeks feel hot and it’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to sit still, too. All of my juices spark and fizz.
Carlo tells me, “Mom called. She told me I had to give you something. Something of hers.”
“Oh?” I still have no idea where I stand with him. My feelings for him have been clear from the start. Or, at least, the strength and power of them has. And I feel sure I can read what he feels, what’s in his heart. But I can still never be sure what he’s thinking. And Carlo is definitely ruled from his head over his heart.
Bruno cuts the silence. “I came along with Alessio to see that he does what Momma wanted.” His eyes cut to Carlo, “We had to follow Carlo here, or we wouldn’t have known about the meeting.”
Carlo looks down and back up into my eyes. I could pour myself on him, right now. But I keep my upright position in my seat.
“It’s a thing of great value and importance,” he says. “It’s back at the house.”
I gulp. “I– I can’t go there. The don…” my voice trails off.
Carlo’s eyes give me a hint of a smile. The first light of encouragement I’ve seen from him today.
Leaning forward, I shake my head. “The house? Are you kidding?”
“Come for dinner.” Alessio says, “You’ll be there as our guest.”
Will my need to be with Carlo, Alessio, and Bruno be enough to get me through an evening in that house, with the don? And enough to endure Jago’s cooking?
“Come at six.” Bruno adds his weight. “You know how the don likes to eat ridiculously early.”
I’m trying to think of a way to say, Why not after dinner instead? but they’re all getting ready to leave.
“Why did you two come?” I’m asking Alessio and Bruno. “Carlo was coming here already.”
I’m reaching. I know what I want to hear. That they wanted to see me. That they missed me. That they had to come.
So, I suppose the reaction I do get serves me right.
Alessio’s voice is firm. “We came to look after Carlo. To make sure that he’s okay.”
“Why, what did you think was going to happen to him? Did you think I was going to kidnap him or cook him up in a stew?”
“Lucy,” Bruno’s tone is hard, too. “We’re all in love with you, I’m sure you know that,” blood rushes to my head. I feel like I’m going to collapse, “but Carlo is in the deepest.”
Alessio nods, “And we don’t know if we can trust you.”
“What? Why?”
“The business with the raid. We don’t know if you’re being completely straight with us.”
“I don’t understand. What makes you think that?”
Carlo says, “The don.”
I tell him, “I don’t know why he’s saying things about me, but they’re not true.”
“What about the Crespis?” Bruno asks. “It seems odd that Gianni Crespi was working under your family, but when that happens to him and his eldest boy, you know nothing about it.”
“And the day it happened,” Alessio says, “was the day you first came to our house.”
Carlo’s eyes harden. “I don’t like coincidences.”
Now I feel trapped between them. I heard what they said about it at the time. How it was an ‘outrage.’ So, if I tell them it was all my doing, how are they going to see me after that?
They’re turning again to go.
I don’t want to tell them. There’s no way to know how badly that could turn out. I even find myself wishing I had some way to defend myself. A weapon, even.
But I feel like if I tell them the truth about this thing, they might see that I’m not holding back, or holding out on them. That they can trust me. There’s no other way. I don’t want to do it, but I sense that if I can’t turn this around now, I might not get another chance.
“Don’t go.” They pay no attention. I lower my voice and project it. It comes out strong. Clear. I like that sound. It stops them in their tracks when I say, “Stop.”
Slowly, all three men turn their glaring eyes back onto me.
“I haven’t lied to you.” It should be a good start, but like three hanging judges they drill their eyes into me. “I didn’t ever say that I didn’t know what happened to the Crespis.” Heads tilt. They all draw breath. I hurry on, “I did stay quiet to let you think it. But you have to know that I did not tell you one single lie.”
“I knew it.” Alessio turns back fully to face me. “Your dad, Don Benedetti, he was behind it, right?” As he looks in my eyes, I get a flash of him that first night. In the limo. His cock swelling and hardening in my hand. Him losing control.
Bruno says, “It was a professional hit team, that’s obvious. Out of town, most likely ex-military or special forces.”
Carlo stops me short. He’s quiet, asking, “Was it because the taste Crespi kicked up to Don Benedetti was getting lighter each week?”
I watch him as I respond.
“How did you know about that?”
“I don’t. Not for sure. But I know that the don was having meets with Crespi, and I suspected he had a plan to take Crespi’s patch and cut Don Benedetti out.”
Taking this in, the last piece of that puzzle drops into place for me. I tell him, “Daddy thought Crespi was lying about his take and not paying his dues, that’s true. He was out of line on the business, too. The clubs and rooms he ran on Wood Street, he was bringing the wrong kind of trade.”
“What do you mean?” Alessio asks, “What is the wrong kind of trade?”
“The kind that will bring state law and the feds in force on all our heads. Trafficking. Juvenile protection. And all the rest.”
Bruno’s head shakes. “People bend rules. It’s how it is.”
“I’m not talking about bending rules, Bruno. I’m talking about really sick trade. Business none of us want to be around.”
“Okay,” Carlo says, “I can see why Don Benedetti wanted to act. But why hit the son, too?”
“He didn’t want to see reason.”
Alessio looks skeptical. “Your daddy sent a hit team to negotiate?”
“No,” I look at all three of them.
“He sent me.”