Dark Redeemer by Raven Scott
5
Massimo
I’m seated in the chateau’s media room. There are two L-shaped sectionals crafted out of quilted white leather. I’ve taken one sectional for myself, while Luciano has the other—we like our space. To my right, a series of floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of the backyard, where the evenly spaced shrubs only partially screen the beach beyond. The view isn’t as great as my bedroom, but I’m not here for the scenery.
This room serves as our home theater and teleconferencing center. A reflective screen is erected against the far wall, with a short-throw projector resting on the coffee table in front of it. The floor-to-ceiling windows have blackout curtains of course, but we’ve left them pulled wide open as the projector generates enough lumens to light the screen brighter than a television set.
The display is partitioned into three areas, and within each the face of one of my brothers peers back. Judging from the backgrounds, Stefano and Roberto are in rooms at their own villas, while Enrico is in his car.
“I think we should kill her,” Enrico is saying. “After the ransom is paid. So what if she hasn’t seen your faces? She’s seen the chateau, and that’s enough to compromise us.”
Luciano shakes his head. “The villas all look the same in Ustica. She won’t be able to pick out ours.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Enrico insists. “The very fact she knows she’s on Ustica is bad news for us. You should’ve kept the bag on her head at all times.”
I shrug. “It’s a big island.”
Enrico frowns. “Not so big.”
“But big enough,” Stefano interjects.
Enrico sighs. “You’re positive no one spotted you leaving the mainland with her? Or arriving here?”
After kidnapping Angela, we switched cars in Palermo and drove a hundred miles outside the city to one of the coastal villas we own on the mainland. Not only is the front fenced off from the neighbors, but so is the beach, and the property is equipped with its own private dock.
“No one saw,” I say. “We weren’t followed, and the sea outside our private dock was empty. The beach on Ustica didn’t have a soul on it, either. Stefano did well securing the mainland villa and the island drop point.”
Stefano nods. “I put my best men on the mainland… told them to make sure any boats and pleasure craft steered clear of our property. I handled the island cove myself.”
“Any news on the Amato reaction yet?” I ask.
“There is,” Stefano replies. “Apparently, Giovanni Amato thought the Rizzos took her, which is a bit odd, considering she’s slated to marry The Cleaver in a month. The Rizzos would have no reason to take her.”
“So what did Giovanni do?” I press.
“Took his family right up to the gates of the Rizzo estate,” Stefano says. “Almost had a shootout right then and there, not believing the Rizzo claims of innocence. Things got pretty heated. For some reason, Giovanni thought it was a good idea to bring along the family Rottweilers, and The Cleaver ended up shooting one of them in front of Giovanni. He wasn’t very happy to say the least, and cancelled the wedding right there, swearing The Cleaver would never marry her.”
For some reason, that news makes me very happy.
Luciano scratches his chin. “Interesting, we can use that… the Rizzos and Amatos will compete to outbid one another.”
“Maybe,” Stefano agrees.
“What happened next?” I ask Stefano.
“The police came, so Giovanni collected the dog and left,” Stefano tells me.
I study him uncertainly. “And how did you find out about all this? Not in a way that puts our operation at risk, I hope.”
“Of course not,” Stefano says. “I bought the information from Modesto.” That was the alias of a spy another family had in the Rizzo villa. “He announced that he had video of the fight on WhatsApp, so I’m not the only one who bought it. Everyone wants to stay informed on the affairs of the two most powerful mafia families in Palermo. If it makes you feel better, I used a burner account.”
“It does,” I tell him.
“The Amatos are still looking for her of course,” Stefano continues. “My informers tell me her brothers have been out on the streets, asking questions. I even personally received a call from an Amato associate asking if I knew anything. I denied everything, of course.”
Luciano glances at me. “We were expecting that.”
“I’m tempted to make an offer directly to the Amatos right now,” I say. “Have Giovanni meet us in a park. Alone. I take the ransom money, then kill him. Not necessarily in that order.”
Roberto crosses his arms, making his already big biceps bulge. “We’ve waited this long for revenge, we can wait a little longer. Just because the end is almost near doesn’t mean we have to start getting messy.”
Even though I was the one nearly killed eight years ago, all of my brothers want revenge. An attack against one of us is an attack against all of us.
“Roberto is right,” Stefano says. “We stick to the plan. Your plan, Massimo. We send notice to all the major Palermo families, inviting them to bid in our upcoming online auction. Let Signor Amato drive up the price of his daughter. Regardless of whether he actually wins or not, we tell him he’s the successful bidder. He meets us at our chosen location to drop off the ransom, and we take the money, giving him nothing in return. Then we sell our signorina to the runner-up, who will inform the Amatos they now have to buy her from them. So the Amatos lose twice over. And if she goes to the Rizzos, then Giovanni either has to swallow his pride and let her marry, or go to war. After that, he’s all yours.”
I nod. If the Rizzos go to war with the Amatos, I probably won’t have to kill Giovanni as the Rizzos will do it for me. But if another family wins the auction, part of the deal will be that if Giovanni arranges to buy her back from them, the winning family will let us know the time and date. Then I’ll watch the exchange from afar and gun down Giovanni after he’s given up his money.
I originally preferred the latter scenario, because I’d get to do the killing myself. But now I’m not so sure, because it means Angela will have to watch her father die.
I don’t know why I care, though. Her father’s a monster.
And so am I.
“Are you still planning on framing her brothers?” Enrico asks.
The question is directed at me. “Haven’t decided yet. It’s either that, or kill them.”
“I call dibs on her sister,” Roberto says.
Enrico grins. “You have a thing for fiery redheads, don’t you?”
Roberto’s eyes glint maliciously. “She won’t be so fiery when I’m done with her…”
“Let’s not go dividing up the spoils just yet,” I say. “We haven’t even sent out the invites to the online auction yet. One step at a time. I don’t need to remind you that there are a hell of a lot of things that can go wrong with our plan.”
“It’s why we’ve tried to keep it as simple as possible,” Stefano agrees.
Beside me, Luciano arches an eyebrow. “Simple? I’m not sure how ‘simple’ a gunfight in the streets is.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” I tell him. “She never leaves home without her guards.”
That wasn’t entirely true. She did, once, but we botched the opportunity because we were in another city. We knew because of the hidden cameras we have placed near the Amato residence. Yes, we’ve been watching her for a very long time.
“By the way, she’s broken off her ankle bracelet,” Luciano announces.
I saw her do it on the video feed from her room’s hidden camera earlier, and showed Luciano. She tried to hide what she was doing, but it was fairly obvious.
I nod. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter.” The battery would be dead by now anyway. We left it in place mostly as a deterrent so she’d believe we’d easily track her down if she escaped. “Still, I’ll have to come up with a suitable punishment I suppose.”
“I’m sure you’ll invent something imaginative,” Stefano comments. “So tell me, am I good to send out the auction invitations?”
Enrico’s image leans closer to the camera. “Maybe we should wait a bit. Give it a week. Let the Rizzos and Amatos come to blows. They’re already on the verge of war, let them tip over the edge. Let them kill each other. Someone will need to assist the clients they’re no longer able to service, and that someone will be us. It’ll level the playing field for our businesses.”
“Yours, maybe,” Roberto tells him. “Mine, not so much.” Roberto dealt mostly in protection rackets. If you didn’t pay him money, you couldn’t start a business in his neighborhood, not unless you wanted it to be vandalized and robbed daily.
“Wars cost money,” Luciano interjects. “Money that could be going into our coffers. Do we really want them spending millions of dollars on weapons and ammo, and on hiring the men that know how to use them?”
I steeple my fingers and tap my lower lip. Then I say: “Send out the invitations. We might as well get the cogs turning.”
Stefano inclines his head. “In bocca al lupo.” Into the wolf's mouth.
“Crepi il lupo,” I reply. Let it die.
The three video feeds go blank and Luciano gets up to shut off the short-throw projector.
“Wait,” I tell him. I grab my phone and tap onto the hidden camera feed from Angela’s room. Then I pair the app to the projector via Bluetooth, and in seconds the display fills with the same image as my phone.
Angela is sitting in the slipper chair. She’s moved it next to the window, and leans forward, her arms folded on the sill, her eyes gazing out toward the sea beyond. I can partially see the tray near the door. It looks like she hasn’t touched the food.
“It’s too bad she’s still so pretty,” Luciano comments.
“What do you mean?” I ask him.
He gives me a considering look. Then: “Her buyers will want to make as much money as possible from their investment. Just look at her. Think of how much she’d command as a high class escort. Ten grand a night minimum. Maybe twenty or thirty, depending on the client. The first thing her buyers will do is fly her to their massage parlors in Dubai. I suppose she deserves it though, for being the daughter of the man we hate.”
I nod my head, though my mind is far away, imagining other men touching Angela. Rage boils inside me, but I shove it back down and replace it with a different anger.
She deserves it, as Luciano said! She deserves everything she gets!
But I can’t really blame her for the sins of her father, can I?
Yes, yes I can.
I hear the front door open. I could pull up the camera on my phone, but instead glance over my shoulder and peer into the main hall. I see my sister Rosa enter with a bag of take-out.
She’s got the right half of her head shaved, and her remaining black hair combed down the left side, where it droops to her shoulders. The hairstyle seems to be the latest fashion trend sweeping Palermo at the moment, imported from the rest of Europe. I hate it.
She’s garbed in tight-fitting black leather. She drives a Vespa but dresses like she owns a Harley. That’s something else I hate, but it’s her choice, and I try to respect that.
We had invited her to the teleconference of course, but she refused to participate. She doesn’t want anything to do with the kidnapping, or its planning. She thinks it’s “wrong.” Of course, she thinks half the family business is “wrong,” but that’s besides the point: she’s living off the gains of our illicit earnings so she doesn’t get to complain.
She disappears from view as she enters the kitchen, and I hear her unpacking her meal. Then she enters the media room momentarily, pasta bowl in hand.
“How’s she holding up?” Rosa asks, nodding at the display.
“Well enough,” I tell her.
“Hopefully you don’t have cameras installed in the bathroom, too,” Rosa says.
“Of course not.” Luciano shifts indignantly. “What do you think we are, perverts?”
“Uh, yeah,” she says. “I’ve seen the bank of cameras you guys have in your strip clubs. You have them in the change rooms, the washrooms, everywhere.”
“Those are strip clubs,” Luciano says. “There’s a difference between a club and a residence. There’s no privacy in a strip club. But in a home there is.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” Rosa gazes at the screen for a long moment. “She looks so… sad.”
Luciano shrugs. “Well how would you feel?”
Rosa turns to me. “Is she eating?”
“What do you think?” I ask. “See the tray near the door?”
Rosa gazes at the screen again and frowns. “She’s so skinny. She’s not going to last long if she starves.”
I sigh. “I’ll get her to eat later. But give her some time to calm down, first. She’s still a bit traumatized.”
“I’ll bet… I hope neither of you hurt her,” Rosa says.
“Of course not,” I tell her. “She wouldn’t be worth anything to us damaged.”
Rosa closes her eyes for a moment and shakes her head. “I hate it when you talk about people as if they’re objects.”
I glance at Luciano. “For the most part, they are. The only non-objects are family members.”
“He’s right,” Luciano says.
“What about your girlfriend?” Rosa asks him.
He shrugs. “She’s an object too. Her sole purpose is for my release, that’s it.”
Rosa tuts and gently slaps him on the shoulder.
“It’s true,” Luciano says. “I don’t even really consider her my girlfriend. She’s just someone I occasionally see.”
“I’m with Luciano,” I tell her. “Most women are objects. Except you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Rosa says. “I’m sure Angela will be pleased to hear that.”
“Don’t call her by her name,” Luciano says. “That humanizes her. We can’t be humanizing her.”
“I think we need to,” Rosa insists. “Otherwise, we’re going to forget that she’s a human being. You don’t want to return her to her father broken, do you?”
“Who says we’re returning her to her father?” I tell Rosa. She doesn’t know I’m planning to kill him. Nor that we’re selling Angela to the highest bidder. She probably naively thinks we’re going to ransom her back to her father and that everyone will live happily ever after.
“Maybe you should just let her go,” Rosa says.
Luciano chuckles. “I don’t think so. After all the trouble we went through to get her? We almost died today.”
Rosa crosses her arms. “The gunfight was on the news. Probably a bad idea to kidnap someone from a mafia don in broad daylight. For all the planning you guys have been doing, I would have expected something more subtle.”
“It wasn’t possible to be more ‘subtle,’” I tell her. “Besides, this way, it hurts her father more. Knowing that I tore her away from him, right out from under his own bodyguards. That’s partially the point. To show him how powerless he truly is. And to make him suffer with worry before he…” Dies.
“Before he what?” Rosa asks.
“Never mind,” I tell her. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re not planning on killing him are you?” she asks. “The don of one of the most powerful families in Palermo?”
I don’t answer.
“You are, aren’t you?” she says. “You’re going to put all of our lives at risk if you do.”
“Not if his family doesn’t know who killed him,” I explain.
“They’ll find out eventually,” she insists.
“We’ll see.” I glance at Luciano and his nod reassures me. “Besides, if they do, we’ll simply kill them all.”
“You’re impossible,” Rosa says and leaves.
Luciano gives me an amused look. “You know, I can’t tell if she thinks you’re joking or not.”
“She knows I’m serious,” I tell him. “Just as you know it. And the rest of the family.”
I glance at the screen to study Angela once more. I can’t help but think about how I used to care for her. So very dearly. And now, all of that care has been replaced by hate.
Luciano stands and pats me on the shoulder. “Want me to feed our prisoner tonight?”
“No, I’ll do it,” I tell him. “I want to limit her exposure to other people. The fewer interactions she has with you, the better. I’ll be her sole point of contact. I provide the food, shelter, and safety. She’ll become absolutely dependent on me. If she listens to me, she’ll be fine. If she disobeys, she’ll be punished.”
Luciano smirks. “You’re looking forward to punishing her, aren’t you?”
I give him a knowing look. “I certainly am.”
* * *
I’m gettingAngela’s dinner ready when the gate buzzer rings. The food smells so damn good, there’s no way she’s not going to like this. I’ve kept an eye on her via the hidden camera all day, so I know she’ll be waiting for me by the window.
I check the entry camera on my phone and frown when I see Agente Pietro Scalici sitting in an unmarked police car. He’s one of the corrupt officers on our payroll.
I buzz him through and dismiss the video feed. The doorbell rings a moment later. I open the front door and eye the agente impatiently.
“What do you want?” I say brusquely. But I already know. Money. That’s the only reason he’d come here at this hour.
He smiles smarmily. “That’s no way to talk to an old friend.”
“We’re friends, then?” I ask.
“We will be when I tell you what’s happened,” Scalici replies. “You’re going to need all the friends you can get.” He pauses to for dramatic effect then continues. “Some tourists reported sighting two masked men at a hidden cove today. One of them carried a woman. She had a bag over her head. The car was described as a white Fiat. It headed in this direction.” He pauses, staring at me with eyes excited by greed. “So I thought, who do I know in this area who owns a white Fiat? Two people. The Buttittas, and the Morettis. Since the Buttittas are law abiding citizens whose only loyalty is to good wine, and I’m not on their payroll, that left only the Morettis. Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone yet.”
I clench my fist. Stefano had failed to clear the cove after all…
“It wasn’t us,” I tell him. “But I don’t need the police snooping around.”
“No, you don’t,” Scalici agrees with a shit-eating grin.
I squeeze my fist at my side, and resist the urge to punch him in the face. I slip the Patek Philippe from my wrist and hand the watch to him instead.
Scalici purses his lips and holds it up to the light. He promptly buckles it onto his own wrist. “I also want another twenty.”
“The watch is worth thirty!” I tell him.
He shrugs.
Gritting my teeth, I shut the door and head to the safe. I open it, retrieve twenty grand in Euros, and return. I shove the bundled bills into his hands and Scalici greedily stuffs them into his trench coat.
“I’ll only be able to cover for you for a few days,” the agente says. “After that, you’re on your own. The Amatos are a powerful family. They have contacts of their own on the Ustica police force. Even though I forge the tourist report, someone will talk.”
I stare at him. Seems like a veiled threat. “How many others have seen the original report?”
“Just the officer who recorded the report,” he replies.
I squeeze my fist once again, tighter than ever. A veiled threat indeed. Looks like I’m going to have to make another trip to my safe.
“How much will it cost to buy him off?” I growl.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but not every cop is a bad cop,” Scalici says sarcastically. He cocks his head to the side. “But another twenty grand should do it.”
I retrieve the requested amount and give it to him. The agente’s eyes light up when he sees this latest bundle; a moment later the cash is gone, devoured by yet another trench coat pocket.
“I’d advise getting rid of the Fiat,” Scalici tells me. When I don’t answer, he nods. “See you around.”
I watch him return to his car, and when he drives away I use my phone to remotely shut the main gate.
I find Luciano, who’s working out in the weight room. “Dump the Fiat. Some tourists spotted us in the cove.”
“So much for Stefano’s so-called handling of that beach,” Luciano says.
“Apparently he missed clearing out a few campers,” I agree.
Luciano closes his eyes and exhales. “Our first mistake.”
“And our last, I’m sure,” I tell him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “We never thought we’d pull off this operation without a hitch. We’ll handle everything that gets thrown at us. We’ll see this through. We’ll be the victors.”
Luciano nods, but I can tell from his worried expression that he’s still troubled. “I can’t believe we bungled something so simple. After all the planning.”
“It happens,” I tell him.
“The cops are paid off?” he asks.
“For now,” I reply. “But they’ll spill what they know when they get a competing offer from the Amatos, no doubt. We’re going to have to move our captive to a different Incognito.” That’s what we call the villas we own through foreign shell companies, villas that can’t be traced back to us. This particular vineyard is an Incognito as well, but I also use it to interface with the police and conduct other business. The villa I plan to move Angela to is completely unknown to the police and my business associates.
I don’t tell Luciano, but a part of me almost believes this was our second mistake—bringing her here. Then again, if we hadn’t, I would’ve never received the tip from Scalici, as he refuses to do business digitally.
Luciano nods. “We move her tonight?”
“Tomorrow morning,” I answer. “Before first light.”
“I’ll let Rosa know.” She’ll have to come with us, unless she wants to be kidnapped herself.
Frustrated, I retrieve the now cold dinner I had prepared and head upstairs. I’m going to take out my anger on the one person truly to blame for all of this.