"I knew I shouldn't have fucking trusted you, figlio di puttana!" I hiss to Benito pulling the phone out of my pocket and dialing Charles.
"It's not me, Raffa. It wasn't my decision. My daughter needs time and I'm going to do whatever it takes to help her. I promised her."
"I don't believe you," I reply waiting for Charles to pick up, walking around the room and ignoring him.
"Put the phone down," he orders in a deep tone making me snap my head toward him, throwing daggers with a deadly look.
"You don't fucking get to order me around..."
"Yes, I do," he replies calmer this time, having my attention, and stretches an arm grabbing the cover of the wooden box revealing the gift he has for me.
My eyes widen in shock, glued to the content of the box, a severed head with eyes gauging to nowhere.
It's Michelle's head, with dry blood splashed all over his face and a lifeless stare in his eyes that nobody has thought to ever close after having been cut.
"Cazzo di merda!" I mumble while my hand holding the phone falls limp although my ears can hear Charles repeatedly calling my name. "Charles... come to the villa," I tell him trying to get rid of the call holding my eyes still glued to the gift and walking close to it.
"What the fuck is this, Enzo?!" I ask, horrified by the relaxed mood Benito has, smiling cockily at me, and sitting on the armchair next to the table where the trophy reigns.
"This, my friend, is the outcome of a stupid drunken night when I was younger, a night that brought me the sweetest daughter and the worst enemy," he speaks lighting a cigar and standing up to remove the suit jacket he wears them sitting back to his place, elegantly crossing his long legs, like a true Italian. "But, the Yakuza sword gifted to me years back by my Japanese partners served me well. I called the guy on the way here to thank him," he continues with morbid satisfaction displaying the most feared Don of Sicily in the splendor of his ruthlessness.
His black shirt is ripped and stained with dry blood, I'm guessing someone else's blood because he looks fine to me.
"I don't get it. Wait! I don't give a fuck! Where's Mia?"
"You sound like a broken record, kid. Mia left. And by the way, I know my son, she already knows the whole story. And you should know it, too."
"Why? What is my connection with it?"
"You like it or not, you came into my daughter's life at the perfect moment. You saved her life."
"How? And if saved her life, why the fuck she ran away?"
"Michelle Parma was the one to steal your shipment, sell it to me, and make sure you would find out about it. He hoped for a war where, most probably my entire family would be murdered by your hand, satisfying the revenge he wanted. Actually, the revenge his father wanted, fucking Santi," he hissed with clenched jaws and disgust on his face.
"Santi? He mediated the deal between me and the Moroccans. I never liked him but the deal was twenty-five million euros, clean money. It was a damn good one."
"It was. By the way, Moroccans have the shipment and the fucking Mexicans have their money back already. At least this is a closed deal."
"How about this one? What's his story?" I ask motioning my head to the wooden box and leaning leisurely against the backrest of the leather armchair.
"Michelle Parma is the son of Roberto Santi, half-brother of Ben and also... half-brother of Mia," he says and that came nothing short of a nine-degree earthquake shock to me.
"Mia's half-brother?! What the fuck? He intended to marry her!"
"He intended to kill her, most probably after killing the rest of us. You see, Santi had a relationship with Mia's biological mother and they had Michelle before Mia was born. I never understood that woman. Santi was insanely in love with her and he never got over the fact that Gloria preferred me over him. She could have had such a beautiful life with him but instead, she chose drugs and alcohol in exchange for her daughter and a peaceful life. I never liked her."
"And yet, fuck, you decided to have a kid together. A kid that, by the way, all I want to know about is where she is, that's all," I insist fearing he only tries to divert my attention and I stretch an arm to reach the wooden box closing the cover to metaphorically give him a hit that I don't give a fuck on anything else but finding my Mia.
"You will find her when she wants to be found. And I'll make sure of that," he replies standing up and grabbing his suit jacket at the same time with Charles coming in.
"Good luck, kid. If our roads should cross again and you decide to still take your revenge... I've sent my sword for sharpening. I won't go down easily... or alone," he speaks before exiting the door. "Ciao, Don Raffa," he continues and leaves waiting for no reply.
Not that I have one. If before I felt torn between the legacy of my father and the growing love for Mia, today I'm more convinced than ever that revenge won't feed my heart while Mia is my healing of any kind of pain.
Most probably I need her more than she needs me. Probably I love her more than she loves me, but I will never stop showing her what I feel.
I'm not losing her. Never!
"So?" I ask Charles when we are finally alone, filling myself a glass and another one for him.
"Italy, South Sicily. She is with Benito's elder sister," he replies while taking the glass.
I knew he could find Mia before her father left my house.
"That was easy. Actually, too easy. And by the way, I know Benito, he is the best in hiding and covering any trace he leaves behind," I speak more to myself, getting into Benito's skin and thinking... if want nobody to find me, especially someone like me, how do I do it?!
"Shall I have the jet ready?" Charles asks while my brain is still trying to get into Benito's mind and find his plan.
"No. Not yet. But listen..." I tell him becoming suddenly very focused on him, throwing the lady of the booze down my throat, satisfied that I have finally figured it out. "Benito will move them often and most probably when least expected. Tell your men to be watching every second of the day," I order.
"Already done that, Don Raffa. But I still believe we should move to Napoli. Benito knows you'll not give up on searching for Miss Mia, even if we leave from here now or we leave later. Besides, businesses need you back home and Miss Tiffany..." he tries to bring me back to reality, and by spelling her name, he has my undivided attention.
"What's wrong with Tiffany?" I ask frowning my eyebrows while staring at him.
Tiffany took my disappearance harder than anybody would have expected. With Nonna so attached to her, she quickly became as part of the family as any of us was, bringing out the kindest kid she could be.
Later on, I found out I saved Tiffany from the claws of an aggressive pimp she had been sold to, and living now in Nonna's house, under everybody's protection, she was happy to finally behave her age, a spoiled teenager of sixteen.
But Nonna's death changed her. She became rebellious giving everybody hard times, especially being upset with me, being dead at first, and then coming back and not spending time with her.
She is lonely, I know that. I should give her more time and now seems the perfect moment.
I'm not going to go for Mia yet. I'm going to give her the time she needs. I just don't know how long I can put up with it.
"Get ready, then. We leave tonight," I finally tell Charles and he suddenly cheers up.
Damn, Tiffany must drive everybody crazy.
"And get rid of this," I tell him with a cringe in my voice, showing him the wooden box.
The trip to Napoli was long and tiring. I tried to rest but the only thing I could do was gulp whiskey and think of Mia, of our night together, grateful for how comfortable I felt when diving into those memories of her beautiful eyes getting lost in my hungry ones, the memories of her lips rounding in perfect O's while I pound into the depth of her core, making her muscles tighten around my manhood and throwing me into a whirlpool of sensation I never felt with any other woman.
The whiskey was the only one that made my brain numb enough to forget that my Mia was rejecting me after allowing me to taste the poison I'll never be able to leave without, the taste of her.
Too drunk to be able to have a decent conversation and too awake to be able to sleep, I hid in my home office the second we arrived at the estate in Napoli. I ordered Charles to send me new pictures of Mia, to ease the longing, if it's in any way possible, and allow nobody to enter.
I stayed there for hours and hours until the night became pitch black and the only noise one could hear was the chimes of my phone, receiving pictures.
Mia finally went to sleep at some point but I still requested pictures of the location, specific angles, drawing blueprints in my head, and identifying hidden places where Benito could have extracted Mia from the place and taken her to another. It can happen at any second of the twenty-four hours of the day.
In the deadly silence of my room, I can hear the door opening and I raise my eyes from the screen of the phone, landing on a visibly disturbed Tiffany coming in with the accuracy of a severely intoxicating drinker.
She glued her eyes on me, frozen in the frame door and holding herself tightly on the doorknob, holding a disgusted stare in her eyes.
"Look who decided to finally come back from the dead," she hardly mumbles.
"Cosa stai facendo qui?" I asked her coldly and she smiled moving around the closing the door slowly. (What are you doing here?)
I follow her steps with an absent mind, almost pissed to having been interrupted from the thoughts about Mia my heart melts when I see Tiffany crouching next to my chair and laying her head on my leg, keeping that smile on her face.
"Mi sentivo solo e mi mancavi così tanto," she replies. (I felt lonely and I missed you so much).
I haven't spent too much time with her after bringing her to Nonna's house but I guess she sees a savior in me and who she's actually missing is Nonna, maybe even more than I miss her.
I slowly stand up and lift her with me while she giggles like a child, tickling my soul.
"Sweetie, I think it's time to sleep, for both of us," I say and lift her in my arms while she seems to be half sleeping already, and walk out of my office and up the stairs to lay her down in one of the guests' rooms.
When I laid her on the bed she was completely asleep. Normal, judging by the smell of alcohol I can sense in her breath, despite the amount of booze I had myself.
Unlike Tiffany, my diving into a much-wanted sleep was a struggle and the thought of having to get used to this struggle for as long as Mia will be away from me is terrifying.
Morning came sooner than I thought, though, with a bold sun coming out of the blue-greenish water of the sea and flooding warmth everywhere, including into my room making me stand up from the end and wanting to drink some more.
Destructive?
Yes, enough to drive one crazy and make him lose any sense of life.
"Raffa..." I hear Tiffany calling my name from the living room before I have the chance to disappear behind the door of my home office.
I pose and stay still for a moment, just enough to change my mood and act properly.
"Si, tesoro..." I reply and turn around fighting for a smile that Tiffany deserves. (Yes, sweetheart.)
"I was wondering if you would like to have breakfast with me," she says standing in front of me, looking all guilty and ready to take any scold that might come.
"I'm not..." I try to say but she walks fast next to me and grabs my hand with her tiny fingers circling mine.
"Please... I would like to talk to you about something and... you need to eat something. Whiskey is not going to solve the matters for you," she insists and I wonder, while staring down at her, when this little, tiny woman has grown to a wisdom I don't manage to find myself.
"Per favore..." she said one more time, so sweet and convincing that it made me carve and please her.
I circle my arm around her neck and plant a kiss on the crown of her head.
"Sure, tesoro..."
She giggles and grabs my hand pulling me after her all the way to the dining and forcing me to sit while busying herself with arranging the plates in front of me and carefully filling it with veggies and cheese next to eggs prosciutto.
She fills a glass with orange juice and takes a seat next to me, while cheerfully smiling and watching me, making sure I will eat something.
My stomach shrinks only by seeing the food in front of me but I take I bite, eager to hear what she has so important to tell me.
"So... what was that something you wanted to talk about?" I try to distract her undivided attention on me.
"Well, there is this reception I hear about and I thought... I thought you could come with me as my plus one."
I frown and take a moment to think how should I approach this reception thing she wants to attend and one that I haven't agreed she can attend to even.
"Hm..." I hum and think some more. "And... what reception is this?"
"It's actually a birthday party."
Damn kid! This doesn't say much.
"Whose birthday party?"
"Julian's. He is someone I met a while ago in Nonna's house. You should him because he said he was a good friend and wanted to present his condolences when we thought... well... when we all thought you were dead."
My brain freezes and the fork almost bends in my hand hearing her words and the only question in mind right now is what the fuck the Benito's we're doing at Nonna's to present condolences when they surely knew I was not dead.
"When was that?" I ask in a neutral tone so I won't raise any suspicions that might prevent Mia from telling me things.
This kid is smarter than we have all thought.
"Hm... about five or six months back," she replies leisurely while stuffing the breakfast in her mouth with a contagious passion for the food she has on her plate.
"I see..." I reply absently, lost in the thoughts of Benito and his fucking plans that I have never known about.
"So, when is this reception? And where?" I ask picking some of the food with the fork.
"In a month and it's here, in Napoli," she says.
"I'll think about it, then," I lied.
Oh, we definitely go, sweet Tiffany! Meeting the Benito's in person is in order since it seems they have been sniffing around my family when holding me hidden "with a plan".
~~~~~
Dear Reader, thank you for being here. 🤗