Chapter 13
I had driven boats all my life – although sporadically. It was the result of lots of vacations on the shores of the Mediterranean, usually at the homes of Cosa Nostra allies – all of whose mansions came equipped with yachts and motorboats. And then there were the adrenaline-fueled years of my late teens and early 20s when my brothers and I would rent speedboats at party destinations like Ibiza and Mykonos.
Despite all that experience, Lucia was better than me. ‘Sneaking out’ had let her practice constantly, and she appeared to be just as much a risk-taker as me or any of my brothers. Plus she knew the geography of Venice – and all its surrounding islands – a thousand times better than I did.
She’d retrieved a pair of high-dollar sunglasses from her purse and now looked like she was out for a fun day trip.
“Okay, where specifically do you want to go?” she asked. “A town, the airport – what?”
She meant l’Aeroporto di Venezia Marco Polo – Marco Polo Airport – a small regional airport with only two runways. Flights were sparse because it was far more convenient for the average Venetian to ride the train to nearby cities. Most people only used Marco Polo as a connecting flight to bigger airports for international travel.
But I had flown in that morning on my family’s private jet, and it was sitting in a rented hanger awaiting my return.
My visit to the Widow was only supposed to have lasted a couple of hours. The plan had been to talk to her, turn around, and immediately fly home.
Things had changed just slightly.
“We can get to the airport by water?” I asked, surprised.
“More or less. There’s a canal that goes right up by the runway.”
That was definitely an option.
The biggest problem was if Fausto had known I was going to go see the Widow…
Then he definitely knew my family’s plane was at the airport.
Which meant there might be mercenaries waiting… or, at the very least, moles to identify us on our arrival. There was no telling what kind of trap I might be walking into.
Not to mention that I would have to clear it with the Widow if I wanted to take Lucia with me. Otherwise, it really would look like I was kidnapping her.
But after saving the old woman’s life, I didn’t see her having a problem with it. A temporary stay in Tuscany was better than fighting our way through a bunch of mercenaries to get Lucia back to the palazzo.
Time to make a couple of phone calls.
However, I would have to cut the engine if I wanted anybody to hear me.
We were approaching two pretty big islands with a gap between them. “What are those up there?” I asked.
“Murano. The left side’s got a town, the right side’s nothing but marshes.”
“Can you hide us up there and kill the engine so I can make a call?”
“Aren’t you worried about the bad guys?”
“I’ll keep a lookout, but I don’t think they’re following us.”
We headed towards the island on the left with the town. As we got closer, I realized Murano was like a much smaller, plainer version of Venice.
We approached a long stretch of two-story brick buildings that looked like the exterior of a little-used warehouse. Several piers were attached to the buildings, so Lucia pulled up next to one and shut off the engine.
Niccolo or the Widow – who to call first?
I opted for Niccolo, just in case he had a bigger strategy I wasn’t privy to.
He answered on the first ring.
“Are you alright?” he asked in a strained voice.
“I’m fine. There was a shootout with more mercenaries at the university, but I got the Widow’s granddaughter out.”
I realized I had just used the old lady’s nickname in front of Lucia. Not exactly the kind of respectful aura I’d been trying to project.
“Uh, Signora Fioretti’s granddaughter,” I amended.
I glanced up at Lucia. She just smirked at me like I KNOW you’re full of shit.Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
I grimaced and looked away.
“Good, I’m glad you’re alright,” Niccolo said. “But before we continue, I have some bad news.”
“What?” I asked warily.
“A sniper shot at the house half an hour ago.”
He meant our family’s mansion.
My heart froze in my chest. “Did anyone – ”
“Everybody’s fine. He was using explosive-tipped bullets to get past the bullet-proof glass, but it held – at least for the first shot. Everyone had already scattered by the time the second shot blew out the window.”
“Who was he targeting?”
“Dario, naturally. It could have been a LOT worse – Adriano and Bianca had just returned from a picnic about 20 minutes before it happened. The sniper could have killed them both if he’d run across them.” Niccolo gave a sardonic laugh. “In typical Adriano fashion, he got pissed off about the shooting and said they should have just gone to Crete for their honeymoon – that it would have been safer.”
A shiver ran down my spine. “What about the sniper? Did you kill him?”
“Lars is out looking for him right now with some of the men, and we’re checking all the camera feeds on the estate. But we’ve basically gone to the mattresses.”
‘Going to the mattresses’ was slang for everyone hunkering down with a siege mentality. It came from a family’s foot soldiers dragging all the mattresses in the house into a central room when there was a war going on with a rival.
“Although I guess in our case, we’ve ‘gone to the safe rooms,’” Niccolo joked.
“So maybe not the best idea for me to come home.”
“About that,” Niccolo said grimly. “I also got a call ten minutes ago that your plane got torched.”
“What?!”
“Somebody fired a rocket-powered grenade into the hanger. Fausto’s little mercenaries have been busy.”
“They blew up the Gulfstream?!”
Lucia looked over in alarm.
“They didn’t COMPLETELY destroy it, but it won’t be flying anytime soon. One wing and engine are all fucked up. Luckily Pietro and the crew weren’t aboard when it happened.”
Pietro was our family’s pilot.
“Adriano was pissed about his honeymoon, and now Roberto’s pissed about the plane. He’s currently yelling at the insurance company because they’re claiming our ‘Acts of War and Terrorism’ rider doesn’t cover the situation. What a life.” Niccolo laughed sardonically, then grew serious. “Unfortunately, it means we can’t get you out of Venice anytime soon. Not until I can charter another private plane out of there… and to be honest, I’m not sure THAT’S completely safe. We have no idea who we can trust right now, or if Fausto’s goons will show up with more explosives.”
“Alright… good to know,” I muttered.
“We’ll extract you as soon as we can. In the meantime, do whatever’s necessary to stay safe and keep the Widow on our side.”
“Understood.”
“Call if there are any developments.”
“Tell everyone I’m glad they’re okay.”
“Will do. Stay safe.”
As soon as I hung up, Lucia started peppering me with questions. “What happened?”
“My uncle hired a sniper to try to kill my brother. And they blew up my family’s jet.”
“You have a jet?”
I glared at her. “You’re asking about the jet and not my brother?”
“If anything happened to him, you wouldn’t have said ‘try to kill my brother,’” she retorted. “And you wouldn’t have brought up the jet at all.”
She had a point.
“So you’ve got a jet?” she repeated.
“You don’t?” I asked snarkily.
Lucia snorted. “Nona doesn’t like to travel.” Then she grew serious. “Is everybody in your family okay?”
“Yes. For the moment, anyway.”
“That’s good…”
It was a nice shift in her demeanor. She could be almost pleasant when she put her mind to it.
“We need to call your grandmother,” I said.
“That would be so much easier if some fuckhead hadn’t thrown my phone overboard,” Lucia said with mock sweetness.
The bitchy little brat was back.
I glared at her but didn’t dignify her insult with a response. “What’s your grandmother’s phone number?”
“She doesn’t have one. Her little minions hand her one if she needs it.”
“Alright, what’s one of their phone numbers?”
“I don’t know. They were all programmed into my phone… which somebody threw overboard.”
I sighed. I was getting weary of this game.
“Don’t you have ANY way to contact her?”
Lucia rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. There’s the main house number – they’ll patch you through.”
She gave me the number. I called and immediately got an operator who gave me a generic greeting.
“This is Massimo Rosolini – ” I said.
“PUT HIM THROUGH TO NONA!” Lucia yelled at the top of her lungs.
I glared at her. She just smiled back sweetly.
The operator must have recognized Lucia’s voice because he said, “Please hold.”
About ten seconds later, I heard the Widow’s voice.
“Signor Rosolini?”
“Signora,” I greeted her.
“You have my granddaughter?”
I could hear the anxiety in her voice.
“Yes, we’re safe. We’re close to – ”
“Don’t tell me – I don’t want to know,” she interrupted. “The walls have ears.”
Smart. If there were multiple traitors in her organization, one might have bugged the phones.
“The shootout at Ca’ Foscari is all over the television,” she continued. “I was afraid that…”
She trailed off. There was no need to finish the sentence.
“We’re fine,” I reassured her. “Lucia’s not hurt. Now we just need to figure out how I can get her back to you safely.”
“I fear I need to ask you a favor, Signor Rosolini.”
“Anything.”
“I want you to take Lucia to your family’s estate. We can see boats patrolling the water outside our palazzo. I believe it’s more mercenaries, which means there’s no way to get Lucia back here safely. And even if you COULD return her, I might have more traitors. I can’t risk her safety until I’ve rooted out any moles.”
“There’s a problem, Signora.”
“Which is?”
“My own family was attacked 30 minutes ago by a sniper. No one was hurt, but they haven’t caught the gunman yet. And Fausto’s mercenaries also blew up my plane.”
“My, your uncle’s a busy man,” she said drily.
“That he is. The upshot is, I’m not going home anytime soon… and it wouldn’t be safe for Lucia even if I could take her.”
“But you’ll have to go SOMEWHERE, yes? Don’t tell me where – but you WILL go somewhere until you can rejoin your family, won’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Wherever you go, will you take her with you and keep her safe?”
The prospect of being this little brat’s bodyguard was not appealing – at ALL –
But I knew I had to secure the Widow’s cooperation if my family was to have any chance of withstanding the coming war with Fausto and the rest of the Five Families.
“Yes, of course,” I replied.
“Thank you.” The Widow sounded relieved. “Put me on speakerphone so Lucia can hear me.”
I complied.
“Lucia?”
“Hi, Nona. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, my dear. Are YOU alright?”
“Other than being shot at by assholes and getting my ass spanked by the giant prick you sent after me, I’m fine.”
My eyes bugged out as soon as she said ‘spanked.’
I bared my teeth at her in a snarl and shook my head violently.
Lucia just snickered –
Especially when the Widow asked in a confused voice, “I’m sorry – I don’t think I heard you correctly – did you say – ”
“Oh!” Lucia exclaimed. “AND he threw my fuckin’ phone in the water!”
“Language, young lady,” the Widow snapped.
“Well, he did,” Lucia pouted.
“But are you unharmed?”
I was afraid Lucia was going to bring up the spanking again –
But she only said, “I’m fine, Nona.”
“Alright, good. Now, listen to me very carefully. I want you to go with Signor Rosolini wherever he deems appropriate. He will keep you safe. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Lucia replied sullenly.
“I want you to obey him at all times, do you understand?”
I’d only known the girl 30 minutes, and even I knew that was a ridiculous request.
Lucia laughed. “Uhhhhhh, NO. Hard pass.”
“LUCIA,” the old woman snapped, turning on that imperious attitude she was famous for. “This is a matter of life and death. Signor Rosolini saved me from assassins, and I know he can protect you – so you are to do EXACTLY as he tells you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Okaaaaay, fine, WHATEVER,” Lucia said snottily, like a teenager who was giving in – but not willingly.
“Good. Signor Rosolini?”
“Yes?”
“Call with updates, but never tell us where you are. Just in case. Keep my granddaughter safe, and I will forever be in your debt.”
“I’ll guard her with my life, Signora.”
“…alright. Goodbye, my darling. And Godspeed, Signore.”
The old lady ended the call.
“Wowwwwww, that was dramatic,” Lucia deadpanned.
I scowled at her.
Despite having nearly been kidnapped – or killed – she was treating this all as a joke.
“Alright, BOSS,” she said sarcastically, “where to?”
The airport was no longer an option.
And I didn’t care to hide out in a city where I didn’t know the lay of the land –
Especially when my enemy appeared to be all around me.
I had an idea of where we could go…
But we would require transportation.
“Can you get us to the mainland?” I asked.
“Where specifically on the mainland? Train station, a town, or – ”
“Someplace we can find a car,” I said. “Preferably a choice of cars.”
“If you want to rent one, the airport’s probably your best bet for 300 miles.”
I smiled grimly. “We won’t be renting it.”