CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sorrow
At Sea
MARIETTA WOKE BECAUSE a baby was crying. She wondered whose child it was at first. Then she felt the soft fists of her daughter beating against her face. She looked over into Lorenza’s eyes. Her darling girl had the most beautiful brown eyes on any person she’d ever seen. She touched her face and Lorenza settled down. Her daughter dropped her forehead on hers and Marietta too relaxed. It felt like time hadn’t separated them. Somehow her daughter knew and remembered who she was. And though Marietta’s mind felt numb, almost swollen with grief she found the strength to focus on being a mother again. That sweet time shared between them soon ended. Lorenza rolled over to her back and cried out in frustration.
Something was wrong.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Marietta said. She sat up like a woman off a drunken bender and searched the room with her eyes. Her body was sluggish to move and her head pounded. How long had they been in the cabin with her trapped in grief? She had no sense of time. Carefully she brought her daughter into her arms and tried to comfort her. She worked hard to remind Lorenza that she was ‘mama’ not some stranger denying her of affection. But Lorenza stiffened to her touch. She wailed and bucked against any comfort Marietta offered.
The door to her cabin was pushed open after a small tap. A young woman peered in.
“Get the hell out!” Marietta screeched.
“Signora, please, please. I come to bring you this.”
Marietta held tighter to Lorenza but she squinted through her blurred vision at the young girl and the bag she carried. A baby bag and a travel cooler were set at the foot of the bed. The young woman began to unpack all of Lorenza’s things. Jars of food and a bottle that had been prepared was included. There were clothes and diapers. She also had stuffed animals and a multi-colored teething ring.
“I hear her crying so I bring it for you. For Lorenza.”
“Grazie ,” Marietta said. She reached for the bottle and Lorenza’s head turned. Her baby girl stopped crying at the sight of it. She claimed it from her mother’s hands immediately. Marietta felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
“She’s a happy little one again, I see,” said the young woman.
Marietta nodded in agreement. The brief moment of contentment passed. She was once again overcome with the future prospects of raising Lorenza alone. And even worse, he death of the only man in her life she’d ever loved. She dropped her head and started to cry again.
“I will leave you now,” the young woman said.
“Wait. Please wait,” Marietta sniffed.
The woman paused.
“What is your name?”
“I cannot say,” the girl responded with deep sadness.
Marietta frowned. She didn’t care. “Can you tell me. Before the boat blew up with flames did they pull my husband out? Was he taken?”
“I cannot say,” the girl replied again.
Marietta blinked. “Does that mean yes?”
“I saw nothing, signora. Nothing.”
“Where are we?” Marietta asked.
“Boat,” the woman said.
“I won’t tell anyone. I swear. My husband? Is he here? Did he make it off the other boat? Is he alive?”
“I know nothing.” The woman turned and left. Marietta’s gaze dropped to Lorenza who relaxed against her breast and sucked on the bottle. Lorenzo had only held her briefly. She would never know, or ever believe how much her father loved her. She kept Lorenza close as she wept and wept. There seem to be no end to her misery. No hope in sight. She felt lost.
Naples, Italy
“DO YOU KNOW ME, INMATE ?”
Carlo stared into the eyes of the man who had hunted him for most of his life as a man of the Camorra. The Generale offered a sly smile to his blank response. The visit from the Generale di corpo  d'armata was expected, but typically it occurred in the courts before or during questioning with attorneys present. He’d been behind bars for two days. He expected it to come sooner.
One of the Generale’s men handed over a folder, which he placed flat to the center of the table. The official smiled. “I’m Generale Geovani Altoviti and I’ve been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time.”
Carlo’s gaze lowered to the folder. He knew the drill. Beneath the cover would lay pictures of the shit show his life had become. Either they would torture him with images of his wife, or they’d share images of his past victims. It didn’t matter. He didn’t give a fuck. His time in Africa had prepared him for such a visit. The irony forced a smile to his face. Abedi had fed his demons to the point that nothing shocked him. Except Adara’s death. That murder had blasted his world apart. Still he would see no evil, speak no evil, and hear no evil against his Don. The Generale could not break that vow.
The Generale spewed the nonsense he thought would rattle Carlo. A few times he mentioned mob hits that he and Lorenzo did for fun. And some long forgotten killings Giovanni never knew about that were ordered by Flavio. He rattled off his crimes by heart and in all his ramblings never scratched the surface of the real horror Carlo had been apart of since his birth in Camorra. That was always the problem with the authorities. They thought chastising a criminal or shocking them with their past would gain leverage or weaken their resolve. It was a fucking joke.
“I warned her,” The Generale said.
Carlo’s gaze slowly lifted and landed on the face of his jailer.
“I told her to run as far from the Battaglias as she could. A good kid. But the minute she carried the seed of il macellaio she was damned. I told her this. And I was right. You did this. Didn’t you?”
Carlo didn’t answer but he did flinch. It was the only sign of emotion the Generale evoked and he wished he hadn’t. The Generale noticed.
“Did they tell you about her body? After the fall? She was so broken internally that the doctors can’t pin down a cause of death. Everything was crushed. Her skull, spleen, legs and even her neck were broken. Did you know?”
Carlo lowered his gaze. His hands were shackled to the chair. He clenched them into tight fists. The Generale shook his head. “How does it end for you, macellaio ?” he asked.
He tapped his finger on the folder.
“The Battaglias have a history of stripping you of your soul then tossing you to the garbage until they need you again. Look at Santo. He was your brother? And where is Lorenzo? Do you know? I’m sure Giovanni does.”
Carlo didn’t answer.
“Ah, omertá , it always comes back to omertá doesn’t it?” the Generale clucked his tongue in disgust. “That vow you take of silence, is the only thing honorable about you and your clan. I will admit. I want you to think of that vow, think of what it has cost you in life. And then think of your son and what spending eternity behind bars with me and not him will cost the kid. Will Giovanni your God make him in his own image? Doubtful, hunh?”
“I have nothing to say.” Carlo voice croaked.
“Adara has. She had plenty to say about you.” The Generale opened the folder. Carlo gaze fell upon a handwritten letter Adara wrote while behind bars. It was addressed to him.
“She tried to bribe a guard to get this out to you. I intercepted. This was shortly after her arrest. After she discovered she was going to be imprisoned while pregnant.”
Carlo’s hand lifted to touch the letter but the chains prevented them from rising above the chair. He stared at the letter, thirsty for anything from her. The Generale closed the folder on the script.
“You want the letter; you give me something.”
Carlo frowned.
“I will erase all of your sins. Free you of the Camorra. Something your Don would never do. And you and your boy can leave Italy. Be a family. It’s what she wanted, no? It’s in the letter.”
“Fuck you,” Carlo said.
The Generale nodded. “Think about it. I am not invisible in your world. I’m there. I’m coming. And when I do come it will be for you all.”
“Vaffanculo! ” Carlo spat at him.
The guard came behind Carlo and struck him with a baton so hard he nearly lost consciousness. The Generale took the folder and stood.
“Wait! The letter is mine. I... I need... Give it... to me.”
“Oh, but I want to. I really do, Carlo. I happen to like this letter. All full of love and regret. Very sweet. I read it often.”
Carlo grimaced and glared. His hand coiled into tight fists.
“I’m afraid our time is up. That black Donna of yours has got the courts to release you. The man you attacked in the wagon has given his statement. He claims he suffered the injuries by falling off the bench during transport. I can only keep you if you wish to stay. Do you wish to stay?”
Carlo stared at the folder and his gut churned.
“Crime does pay, but so will you and your child before this is done if you don’t do something to protect him. Think on my offer. A new start. A new beginning.” The Generale smirked. “I hear America is nice?”
Carlo frowned at the mention of America. He stared at the Generale who apparently knew more than he considered. The Generale gave him a nod and left.
Another guard entered and Carlo stood. Instead of being shuffled out to the isolation cell he was housed in after he attacked three men in his other detainment cell, he found the guard to be unlocking his iron cuffs. First went the ones to his ankles then went the ones to his wrists.
“Andiamo,” the guard huffed.
MIRABELLA FINALLY HEAD from Giovanni. He made one phone call and the work she’d been putting in the past thirty-six hours came to a conclusion. The courts granted Carlo’s release. She didn’t know what Giovanni did to get his release done but she was grateful and ready to leave Napoli.
She waited outside of the jail. It was Nico and the attorneys that ventured inside. From the cool seat in the back of the Range Rover she saw Carlo coming down the steps in the same blood stained clothes he was arrested in. He looked haggard for it to be just under two days. And when he joined her inside the vehicle the first thing that greeted her was his stench.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Grazie, Donna ,” Carlo mumbled. “For everything.”
“Carlo,” she reached for his hand but he moved it before she could touch him. She understood. There was nothing she could say to him to heal the pain he carried. She decided to tell him what she knew he needed to hear.
“Adara’s body has been moved to our parish. Her brother wants to bury her in Turin. But he said he would agree to whatever you wished.”
Carlo didn’t respond. He stared out of the window.
“Arielle has your son. She says you’re welcome to stay with her while you figure it all out. We must bury Adara soon.”
When he didn’t respond she tried another approach. “Giovanni returns tomorrow. The hunt for Lorenzo is over.”
“Lorenzo’s dead?” Carlo muttered. He glanced her way. He nodded and then returned his gaze to the window. And then he finally spoke the name Mirabella couldn’t. “Marietta?”
“She’s been taken to a safe place. Her and her daughter are together now.” Mirabella said.
“What happens to her?” he asked.
“America. She’ll go back to America.”
“America,” Carlo muttered.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No. Yes, take me home. My place. I need. Time.”
“You should come home with me. I’ve already called Arielle and told her to be waiting with your son. I think if you see him it will help.”
“It won’t help. My place. That’s where I want to go.”
Mirabella nodded. “Very well.”
Houston, Texas
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING , Jilly?” Doris asked.
Shae glanced up. Jilly tried to stuff baby Jewel into the sling that Shae strapped around the front of her chest when she went shopping or took long walks. Jewel was chunky in the thighs and arms, even the tummy. She could only fit with some finesse and even then she wiggled so much she became a heavy load to carry.
“I’m taking Jewel for a walk,” Jilly replied.
“You have homework,” Doris said to her. “Bring the baby here!”
“Ms. Shae? Tell her it’s what I do. I take Jewel for a walk after school. I haven’t seen her all day.” Jilly groaned. Jewel sucked her fist with her bright eyes staring up at Jilly. Only half of her chunky baby was in the sling. Her baby girl usually screamed her head off when she tried to fit her in the carrier. With Jilly it was always fun and games for Jewel.
“Have you done your homework?” Shae asked.
“No, but—”
“All the other girls are doing their homework. You know the house rules,” Doris said.
“I’m different. Shae is my legal guardian. And soon I’ll be adopted by her. I’m not like the other girls.”
Doris looked to Shae to resolve the issue.
“That’s right. That makes me your mother.”
Jilly nodded.
“That means I have more responsibility and so do you. These girls look up to you. I expect you to show them that the rules we have here are to protect them. It’s called being responsible.”
Jilly looked down at Jewel who was now resting her head against her breast. Jilly smiled. “I’ll take you for a walk before dinner, Jewel. Okay?”
“Bring me my baby,” Shae laughed. The phone rang. Doris got up to go answer it. Jilly walked over to her. She pulled Jewel out of the carrier strapped to the front of her. Jewel began to cry.
“It’s okay, it’s okay pip-squeak.” Jilly said and kissed her face. She then handed Jewel over. Shae took Jewel into her arms and her baby girl settled down.
“Can she sleep with me tonight? Please?” Jilly asked.
On Friday nights Shae typically let Jewel stay with Jilly. However, her daughter was teething now and woke frequently from the irritation. Shae rubbed under her daughters lip to soothe her gums. “Go do that homework.”
“Okay!” Jilly said and left. Doris walked in carrying the cordless phone.
“It’s for you.” Doris said.
“Who is it?” Shae held out her hand. Doris paused and frowned.
“What?”
“Sounds Italian. The woman.”
Shae heart stopped. Not since she heard from Marietta had she received another call from the Battaglias. And that call with Marietta didn’t end well.
“Take Jewel for me,” Shae said and handed over her baby. Doris did and left to give Shae privacy. She sucked in a slow breath and exhaled slowly. “This is Shae.”
“Ciao Shae, I am Arielle.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know me. I am the mother of Adara Calderone Altovti. Her true name is Angela, after her father Angelo Calderone.”
Shae wasn’t sure what to say. So she listened.
“She is Carlo’s wife.”
Shae’s heart began to beat so fast in her chest she felt her chest tighten. She stood. A hundred questions at once pounded her head. Was this the call to tell her that Carlo was dead? Was Marietta right when she said that Carlo was in trouble?
“Carlo and... my daughter... I—” the woman began to cry.
“Hello? Are you okay? How did you get my number? Why are you calling—”
“Adara is dead. She died three days ago. She was murdered.”
“What?” Shae gasped.
“By Armenians. Marissa and Jasper Tahvo. Do you remember them? Do you!”
“I... is Carlo... dead too?”
“No. He’s worse than dead. I’m calling you because the Battaglias are concerned. They wish you to return to Italy.”
“Slow down. Marissa and Jasper killed Carlo’s wife in Italy? How? How did they find her? Where is Carlo? Why would the Battaglias want me to come?”
“A plane ticket can be arranged. You will need to visit immediately.”
“I have two daughters now. I can’t leave them behind—”
“Bring them. Bring whomever you can. The funeral for my daughter is in two days. The Battaglias expect you to arrive soon after. Someone will be in touch to make the arrangements.”
“No. I need to talk to Carlo first. I can’t just show up in Italy after his wife was murdered. I can’t do that to him. I don’t think I should be involved.”
“But you are! You are! It’s because of you those Armenians went after my girl. Is it not? Is it not!” she shouted, then wept. She said something in Italian that Shae could not understood, but she knew her grief. Shae put her hand to her brow and held back her temper over the false accusations. Then she heard what sounded like a man’s voice speak to the woman in Italian in the background.
“Is that Carlo?” Shae asked. “Let me speak to him!”
“Please come,” Arielle said.
“I’m so sorry. I am. I’m sorry for this but I will need to speak to Carlo first,” Shae said. “Put him on the phone.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be here. It’s been decided. We will meet soon. Grazie .”
The line clicked.
Shae stared at the floor. She lowered the phone from her ear. She glanced up to see Doris had returned and watched her with concern.
“Every time you get a call from those Italians something bad happens. What is it now?”
“I have to go back.”
“Shae? We talked about this. You said you were going to stay away from those people. You said they threatened you and Jewel. You said Marietta Battaglia was trying to lure you into a trap. Why on earth would you even entertain the idea?”
“Doris. Stop. I told you about the Armenians. What happened. It happened again. To another woman. And I have to go there, because it won’t stop happening.”
“What about Jewel? Jilly?”
Shae wiped at her tears. She looked at the phone and then to Doris. “They’re coming with me.”
“Shae? No! I won’t let you do this.”
“We need to get Jilly a passport,” Shae said as if Doris hadn’t objected.
“You cannot take her to Italy with those people!”
“We need to get Jewel a passport too,” Shae mumbled.
“Do you hear me, girl? You can’t do this!”
“I don’t have a choice! Something is wrong with the Battaglias and somehow it involves me. They weren’t asking me to come, Doris. It’s not how it works.”
“But why? Why can’t you let the hold these people have on you go?”
“It’s not them. It’s Carlo. He saved my life once. He has a daughter he’s never met, and a dead wife.”
“I’m sure he knows she exists by now, Shae. He hasn’t once tried to contact you. Think about it. Everyone calls here but him. That must be a sign. If he wanted you, if he needed you, he would have called.”
“I know. I know!” Shae paced back and forth. “There is something else. Carlo has a destructive nature, a really bad one. If he’s sinks too far the Battaglias may not be able to control him. And that family is all about control. That call wasn’t a request. It was a command.  If I refuse I don’t know what happens to Carlo, to my daughter. I have to return to Italy. Now are you going to help me or what?”
Doris shook her head, she walked away.
“WHY DID YOU MAKE ME do that!” Arielle shouted through her tears. “Why!”
Giovanni sat back and drummed his fingers on the surface of the kitchen table. He looked to the phone she had tossed on the table. He picked it up and made sure that the connection had ended.
“Is she coming?”
“My Adara is dead! And you want me to convince the woman who was between her and her husband to come rescue him?”
“It’s more to it than that,” Giovanni said. He took the phone and placed it on the cradle. He went to the sink and fixed Arielle a glass of water. She wept openly.
“I knew you were cruel Gio. I’ve seen how cruel you could be. But this? This is low even for you.”
He placed the water before her. Arielle knocked it off the table. “Did you do this? Did you! Answer me!” Arielle wept. “Did you set this all in motion? To get revenge on the Calderones? Is that it?”
“No. I wanted to help Adara. For you.”
“Me?”
“The Calderone’s was my greatest sin. And those kids, what you did to help them. I could never repay you or make it right for them. You begged me to keep her out of my world and I didn’t listen. I used her. Made her a pawn between me and that fucking Generale. So when you came to me and told me she was pregnant and in jail I knew I should make this right.”
“Well you didn’t!”
“I asked her what she wanted. I’d given her diamonds out of Africa or a castle in Scotland, anything. A new identity and enough money to erase my memory from her life. All she wanted was Carlo. So I gave her him.”
“And look it cost her,” Arielle wept.
“Look at what it cost them both.”
Arielle hung her head and cried. Giovanni reached to comfort her but drew his hand back before doing so.
“I’m not God. I’m not even a good copy of him. I have fucked the world over for a cause that was my fathers. I’ve killed the only brother who loved and knew me the best. I have taken the most precious woman in the world as my wife and crushed her under this... what I do, what I am.” He wiped his hand down his face and let go a long deep sigh. His intel on Carlo wasn’t good. The brotherhood they shared as children was severed. He knew it. And he didn’t have much hope of fixing it. This was his only way to live with all the pain and conflict he carried for Carlo and Lorenzo.
“I knew the woman in America was who Carlo wanted. She came to Italy pregnant. If I had stayed out of it he’d have tried to run from the family to be with her. And I would have put a bullet in him to stop it. It’s what I do. Bullets. It’s all I am.”
Arielle looked up.
“She’s pregnant?”
“Was. She came looking for Carlo around the time you and I talked about reuniting him with Adara. I made a call. The wrong call. I know that now.”
“What did you do?” she sniffed and wiped at her tears.
“I sent my men to scare her and chase her away. I gave Carlo Adara as a replacement, and kept it from him. He found out about this after the wedding.”
“Did Adara know about this baby? Was she part of your scheme?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
Arielle wiped her eyes with a tissue and blew her nose. She shook her head and the tears fell again. “You’re right. You’re no Saint. And I don’t believe for one moment that you are here just to make up for betraying Carlo. You need to use him still? Don’t you? Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is Carlo’s been tapped to turn on the family. He’s weak, he’s a liability. I’m not going to let him destroy what I’ve built over a broken heart.”
“Of course you won’t,” Arielle mumbled.
“I’m going to do for him what my father should have done when he went to prison at fifteen. And it’s what Adara would want.”
“No.”
“Arielle?”
“I won’t do it, Gio! She is not even in the ground yet, you bastard!” She got up from the table and left. Giovanni sat there alone for a moment. He could hear Carlo’s son cry from the other room. From what he knew Carlo hadn’t seen the boy since he returned. And no one had seen Carlo. He picked up his keys from the table and stood. He had no doubt Arielle would do as he instructed, but this ask would be the final one between them. He left without saying goodbye. He left her to her hatred for him. It was a good replacement for the feelings she carried that he’d used against her time and time again. He was ready for it all to end.