Page 139 of La Dolce Vita

If either of Domi's men even suspected Mancinis were in the building, they would snatch her and Rosetta back to Italy fast. If Rosetta saw her with Armando, she was certain she would blab it to everyone. What was she going to do? Catalina stood and put her hands to her head. She had to be calm. She had to do as she and Marietta said. She had to think it through.

***

Armando looked over to the six cassette tapes on his desk. Six copies of the truth, and weapons for revenge. Was he an idiot for even playing the game this far? It had already cost him. Giovanni was forcing him out of inner circles that should never be closed to him. He tapped his fingers on the desk and considered his alternatives. Sure he could weaken Giovanni in the eyes of the Dons ofla cosa nostra. And he’d definitely gain leverage with the clan bosses ofla Camorra. It could work. But it wouldn't recover what he'd lost. And in the process, it would destroy his sisters. Despite it all, he was cursed by the promise he made to his father. They were his blood. He had to protect them. When they found Mirabella in the state, she was it enraged him. When he saw how weak and fragile she was after Giovanni carried her out of the place of torment, he knew. He had fallen in love with his sisters. The only way to gain everything he wanted was to be smarter than Giovanni. At every turn.

"Boss?"

Armando looked up.

"They’re here. All of the press. Even the reporters from America. I’ve set them up in the gardens."

Armando nodded. "What else?"

Ignacio stepped inside and closed the door. "Don Pietro has shut down all business in Porto Empedocle. It’s gone past aligning with Giovanni. They are already doing business. He is no longer an ally."

"How is that possible? He and my father were best friends. He's loyal to the Mancinis. Get Falsone on the phone. I want to know where my shipment is.”

“Giovanni has claimed it.”

“Bullshit! Bullshit! He doesn’t claim anything! Get Falsone on the fucking phone now!” Armando shouted.

Ignacio shook his head. "He hasn't returned any of my calls. And I hear that our ships are being searched by the Ministry. Word just came in from the marina."

"Giovanni doesn't have any pull with the ministry... this is not possible."

"He had someone report us. Either way, Giovanni isn't planning on a street fight, Boss. The Battaglias have moved out of Sicily. His men are off the streets. Tacchini is running the street operations, and so are the Benicia's. He's closing in. This is war."

"They are idiots! Idiots! He's making a move, and they are already bending over and taking it up the ass!"

"We need to stop Giovanni cold. Hit him hard, Boss. Cut his throat. Those tapes can slow him down. Use them. Now!"

Armando looked at the tapes. He nodded in agreement. "First, we do the press. Then we leave for Paris."

"Paris?" Ignacio asked.

"Make the arrangements. We will be staying at the Four Seasons."

***

Giovanni plopped down in the chair near the television. It rocked a bit. A large recliner with a crank to the side of it lifted his feet. Marietta was in the kitchen washing dishes. She fed the kids first. She was now cooking dinner for everyone else. Mirabella was upstairs bathing the children. It only took a minute for both of the sisters to fall into the routine.

It was only now that Giovanni could absorb the place. His eyes scanned the walls. There was a painting of a horse and wagon in an open prairie. It had an orangish brown weathered look to it. On the other side of the wall was a portrait of Jesus next to a framed picture of Martin Luther King Jr. His gaze switched to the shelves. There he saw hisBellain every stage of her life. A picture of her at about six or seven with two front teeth missing and long pigtails. There was another picture of her as a teenager with braces on her teeth. And then his gaze stopped to the teenager who posed for what looked like a special event. He'd imagined that his daughter would grow up to be as beautiful. His gaze stopped on a picture of the grandparents she loved so much, with her as a child on her grandfather’s knee. And then it struck him. There were no images of her mother. Didn't she return to Apple Grove with Mirabella as a babe? Where were the pictures of her mother when she was a young girl?

Lorenzo sat on the sofa and removed his sunglasses. "So, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?" he asked. "The Gambinis won't be here for another few hours."

There was a television. The kind you had to change the channels with a dial. But a box for the cable sat on top with a remote. He glanced at the television to Lorenzo who threw his hands up in disgust. His cousin went over and picked up the remote and got the video working. He scanned several channels and paused on CNN. There was an image of Mirabella on the screen.

Lorenzo looked back to him. Giovanni lowered the leg lift of the chair and sat forward. Lorenzo turned up the volume, but not loud enough for the girls to hear. The reporter spoke of the upcoming event in Paris. And then he switched gears. The next image was of him and their family during the interview in Milan. Giovanni bristled. He didn't like the exposure, but he tolerated it for his wife. And then his blood ran cold. The image switched to the anchor announcing a live telecast from Sicily. Armando Mancini was speaking to the press.

"So, I know many of you are surprised by the news. No one is more surprised than me. The truth is, when I learned that Mirabella Ellison was my long lost sister I didn't believe it. My father was a complicated man, but he kept the shame and secret of his infidelity with Mirabella's mother from the family. Unfortunately, it's a quite tragic story... her mother was a heroine junkie..."

Lorenzo shut the television off. He looked at Giovanni for his reaction. Giovanni knew it would happen, and Mirabella feared it would happen this way.

"The women are going to go nuts over this, Giovanni," Lorenzo said and sat down. He tossed the remote. "Marietta isn't to have stress. He is on the television telling the world everything! We should have planned for this."

"It has to happen this way. I needed him to react this way."

"Why? To humiliate us?"

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