Mafia Kings: Adriano: Chapter 81

THAT got Adriano’s attention.

Both the mention of his grandfather…

And the fact that Mezzasalma knew Adriano’s name.

The old man smiled. “That’s right – your grandfather. The one who came here 50-odd years ago and started your family’s little empire.

“I’m sure you know that Rosolini isn’t your real name. Or rather, it wasn’t your grandfather’s given name. He took it from the town he came from in Sicily. It’s very close to the spot where I first met him.

“When I was 15, I walked twelve miles to the town of Rosolini and asked around for your grandfather. No one would admit to knowing who he was. Omertà is strong in Sicily, after all. I could have been looking to kill him… to exact revenge for some slight to my family’s honor.

“But rather than return home when I couldn’t find him, I slept outside in a field so I could look for him again the next day.

“The next morning, Vito searched me out after the villagers told him about a strange boy asking for him by name. He recognized me immediately, gave me a job, and I never went home again.

“When I was 16, I became a driver for your grandfather’s crew. Back then, he worked as the enforcer for the family that controlled southern Sicily.

“When I was 17, I killed a man for the first time. Your grandfather gave me the gun and told me to do it… so I did. I did everything he told me to do… and as a result, I rose in the ranks and took over the rural areas. That became my territory… the little villages, the barren fields… the half-acres of land.

“And then your grandfather left… to start a new life in Tuscany.

“I wrote him letters. Sometimes he wrote back. Every few years, he would return to the old country. We would have a drink and reminisce about old times. He would tell me of his new life… and his two little sons, Leonardo and Fausto.

“Years later, I would hear about his grandsons: you… Niccolo… Roberto, Massimo, Valentino…

“I even sent a gift – a golden spoon – to your grandfather when Dario was born.

“But I never got an invitation to come to Tuscany. I was never offered a place in your grandfather’s organization. I asked, but he said he didn’t want to offend the Sicilian family he had worked for – the one I still worked for.

“But he always said, ‘One day… one day.’

“Then your grandfather died, gunned down in his prime. Not uncommon in our line of work, but a tragedy nonetheless. When I heard it, I took the news quite hard.

“I also learned your father took over as the new don. But Leonardo… he never gave me the time of day. I wrote to him, too, like I had your grandfather. I told him I had finally secured my employers’ permission to leave. I asked your father for a place in his organization, that I might serve him as I had served Vito years before… even though Leonardo was much younger and far less experienced than me.

“But he thought I was some country bumpkin – a simpleton beneath his contempt. He wrote back only once: two short lines telling me the past was the past, and to never contact him again.

“At least your grandfather cared enough to lie to me, Adriano.

“At least your grandfather had the courtesy not to spit in my face.”

Mezzasalma took a little pause. He poured some wine from our bottle, slugged it down, then continued.

“You quoted the story of Satan tempting the Christ.

“Do you like other stories?

“I do.

“I like English ones most of all. The knights of the round table… the sword in the stone… the lady of the lake…

“There was this one English story I heard a long time ago that I never forgot.

“Around the time of King Arthur, a country boy caught a baby dragon, which the English call a ‘worm’… and he threw it down a well and forgot about it.

“The worm grew and grew in darkness… and then finally, years later, it came up out of the well and began killing everyone who encountered it.

“The best time to kill a dragon is when it is still a worm… a baby. To strangle it in its cradle, so to speak.

“Your grandfather plucked me out of the dirt and gave me a well to live in…

“But he abandoned the well. And he abandoned me.

“When I tried to crawl out, your father kicked me in the face and told me to stay down there. He told me I should know my place.

“And so I grew like the dragon in the story.

“I rose in the ranks of the family I worked for… I consolidated my power in the rural areas until I was truly a man to be feared.

“And then I killed my employers. I strangled their children in their cradles… and took over everything myself.

“I quickly gained a great deal of wealth. A lot of heroin flows from North Africa through southern Sicily, and from there to the rest of Europe. I became the man it flowed through.

“But I hungered for something more.

“Sicily is a small island, and I grew tired of it.

“I outgrew my well, you might say.

“Then I heard about your father’s death.

“And while it galled me that Leonardo should have ignored me all those years, I let him be. Because of the debt I owed your grandfather.

“But now that your father was gone, I was curious.

“I wondered if you and your brothers were young dragons yourselves…

“Or just puppies to be drowned in a sack.

“So I decided to see for myself.

“I decided to venture forth like your grandfather…

“To stake my claim in Tuscany…

“And take what I want.

“What I’m owed.”

Mezzasalma paused long enough to grind out his second cigarette and light a third. As he blew out a mouthful of smoke, he looked Adriano in the face.

“Surprised? There are a great many things you don’t know about, boy. Because your father hid them from you.”

“And now they’re coming to light,” Adriano said with a smile. “Like the squirming things you see when you turn over a rock.”

Mezzasalma didn’t find that amusing.

“I want Fabrizio Lettieri,” he said coldly.

“So go find him. I’m not stopping you.”

“But you are. I need her…” Mezzasalma pointed at me. “…to draw him out of hiding.”

The skin on my neck prickled to hear this psychopath talk about me and my father.

“You give her to me,” Mezzasalma continued, “and I’ll let you and your brothers slide, like I did with your father. For old time’s sake. Maybe I’ll even cut you a deal, personally.”

Adriano smirked. “What kind of a deal?”

“The kind I made with Carmine Agrella. He desperately wanted to be the don and not a second-hand pimp. So I agreed… provided he could deliver your head on a platter.”

“Didn’t turn out so well for him.”

“No, it didn’t – because he failed. Obviously, since your head is still attached to your neck.” Mezzasalma paused… then smiled. “So far, anyway.”

“And that’s why you killed him? And all the others?”

The old man shrugged. “It was better just to wipe the slate clean.”

“And blame all those deaths on my family.”

“Like I said… puppies in a sack to be thrown in the river. But you can save yourself, Adriano. You can be the one who throws the sack in, rather than the one who drowns with all the rest.”

Adriano smiled coldly. “Just out of curiosity… the reason you want Bianca’s father – does it have anything to do with a man who was in Bautiste Agrella’s office the day you killed him and his brothers?” Adriano turned to me and gestured towards Mezzasalma. “I’m assuming this isn’t the same guy, seeing as he only has one cruel eye, not two.”

I froze in terror.

Adriano was talking about the man I’d seen at the modelling agency.

I didn’t know why he was bringing it up…

But he was obviously looking for some reaction from Mezzasalma.

Otherwise, why provoke him?

But Mezzasalma remained totally still – perhaps too still.

Like he was hiding something.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adriano smirked. “I’m sure.”

“Give me the girl and you can name your price.”

“Why do you want her father so badly?”

“Signor Lettieri has something of mine. And I want it back.”

Adriano scoffed. “What – is it money? I’ll pay you any amount he owes.”

Mezzasalma’s smile was chilling. “Not money.”

“I don’t understand. What does he have that you find so valuable?”

“One might ask the same about his daughter. You say that you would pay any amount Lettieri owes – why? What does she possess that you find so valuable? Surely you’ve sampled the goods by now. Are they really so exquisite? Is she truly any better than one of the Agrellas’ whores?”

Anger flared up inside me –

But it was nothing like the rage I saw on Adriano’s face.

“Watch your tongue, old man, before I cut it out and make you eat it.”

Mezzasalma grinned. “You’ve just shown your hand, boy. You were never going to give her to me… so I’ll just have to take her.”

Suddenly, outside the glass dome, there was the pop pop pop pop of distant gunfire.

Mezzasalma looked up at the now-dark sky and took a puff on his cigarette. “Oh… there goes your sniper.”

I know I looked up at the buildings in panic –

But Adriano didn’t.

His eyes remained fixed on Mezzasalma.

But maybe it was the fact that the old man’s head was turned…

That allowed him to get the drop on Adriano.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the old man’s right hand twitch –

And something popped out of the sleeve of his suit jacket.

There was a flash of light –

And two gunshots went off at the table, separated by a hundredth of a second.

BANG!

BANG!

Adriano jerked –

And fell out of his chair onto the floor.