“Safety is important ladies. You need to rethink my offer; I can ensure you’ll have the protection you need.” Lorenzo said.
“Excuse me?” Mira lowered her glass. “What kind of protection?”
“You plan to make Napoli, Campania your home? Open a business in the heart of the city, and crime can be an unfortunate consequence. Sometimes it’s best to have allies. Though I can’t guarantee a gypsy won’t go after your purse again.” Lorenzo kept his gaze leveled on her. “I can however, promise he’ll wish he didn’t.”
Mira grappled with understanding what he was suggesting, and her best friend looked incensed. She spoke hurriedly to Lorenzo in a cool exact manner. She did so in Italian. Lorenzo sipped his wine and listened. He didn’t seem fazed or impressed by Fabiana’s short rant. His steely gaze slipped over to Fabiana who held firm in her position. “Beh...Have it your way.”
“What’s going on? Stop speaking in Italian to keep me out of the conversation, it’s rude!”
“We’ll talk about it later.” Fabiana waved off her concern.
“No. We’ll talk about it now.” Mira demanded. She returned her focus to Lorenzo. “What are your terms?”
An easy smile crossed Lorenzo’s lips. “Things are done differently here. I’ll letSignora Girelliexplain.Mi scusi belle.” He eased his chair back and rose. Fabiana forced a wan smile before she drank down the contents of her wineglass and reached for the bottle to pour more. Mira shook her head at her friend’s attempt to shield her from the dirty details of their business. Of course, she couldn’t blame her. Both had been stressed since they decided to relocate to Italy.
“What is it now? First the store closes and my designs are locked up in there and now there is more?”
“Mafia.” Fabiana blurted.
Mira sat back. “Huh?”
Fabiana chuckled. “We’re in Italy girl. Don’t be surprised.”
“What the hell does the Mafia have to do with you?” Mira asked concerned.
“Not me. Us. We’ve had a few encounters.”
“We? From who?” she glanced around the empty balcony for Lorenzo. “Did he threaten you? Is he part of the Mafia?”
“Lorenzo? No. Well, I don’t think so. He’s from a very powerful family in Napoli. The Battaglia’s. They’re well respected throughout the southern region. He’s been trying to advise me. I just don’t like his advice. Those terms he’s speaking of involve weekly payments to men you don’t want to know, men in theCammora.”
“Okay I’m afraid to ask. What is theCammora?”
“It’s what the Mafia is called here. Several families make up the Cammora, and they run things inside and out of the Republic. Very corrupt. There’s nothing to worry about. We don’t need that kind of help. Those leeches pray on naïve Americans. Trust me you’re a celebrity, and our being American protects us.”
“You’re leaving something out.” Mira felt like an idiot for not knowing more of this end of her business. “I want to hear about these encounters. Details.”
“Actually you don’t. Besides it’s not a big deal. We have friends on our side, remember the Sicilian investor, our sponsor? Name’s Mancini, he’s a good ally.”
“But you didn’t want to involve him I thought?”
“Our boutique being closed has nothing to do with Cammora, just some red tape that we can cut through with the local authorities. That’s where the Battaglia’s are useful. If I drag Mancini into the matter it will just become more complicated, since he’s not a favorite with these men. That’s the only help we need from Lorenzo’s family and that’s what I told him before he left.”
“I don’t like this.” Mira could feel her skin goose pimple and rubbed her arm against the night breeze. “Feels off to me.”
“We are to refuse all contact with theCammora. We start paying these men their little taxes and before you know it you’ll have investors you don’t want.”
They’d been together since Parsons and were closer than sisters. It was Fabiana who introduced her to Kei, a Chinese Wall Street businessman who would keep her naked and in bed all day in the beginning of their relationship because he couldn’t let her out of his sight. He later became the first investor in Mirabella Couture and secured her a spot at New York Fashion Week. Now they were over. Their love affair had been strangely fulfilling and different compared to the limited love life she’d had in Virginia. She’d never dated outside of her race or been around so many people from different cultures. New York was an explosion of new experiences. Several years later Fabiana was her best friend, and she had found the courage to start a new life in Italy.
“I’m sorry. I’m not accusing you of anything.” Mira softened.
“You’re right. I should have told you. We’ll talk more on it, just not here. I swear. Let’s enjoy the evening. Okay? I really like him, girl.”
“You barely know him.”
Fabiana’s eyes sparkled. “So? Does that matter? Tell me your honest opinion of him so far. And forget the Mafia stuff because he’s nothing more than a businessman. A sexy, tall, handsome, Sicilian businessman that would make my mom smile if I brought him home.”
“I don’t know. Something about him is off. I can’t pinpoint. He’s a little intense.”