Chapter 28

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 28 As we approached the airport, I pulled up my window shade and looked out.

Sicily is the biggest island in the Mediterranean, just west of the toe of the ‘boot’ of Italy.

Palermo is its biggest city and sits on the northern shore. Through the window, I could see the port and the massive docks for all the cruise ships.

The city itself was an odd mix of the old and new. There were lots of ancient buildings, usually tan with orange-colored roofs...

and then it became this sprawling, modern city that stretched for miles.

What I noticed most of all were the mountains. They surrounded everything: the city of Palermo and pretty much the entire northern part of the island.

The plane landed at the airport, which only had two runways.

When we got off the jet in a hangar, a black BMW was waiting for us.

The driver – a sour-looking guy in a suit 15 years out of style – stood by the car.

“Your names?” he asked my brother in a Sicilian accent.

“Niccolo and Valentino Rosolini.”

He gestured to the rear doors. “Get in the car.”

Not much in the way of hospitality.

Niccolo and I settled into the backseat. At least the car was a lot newer than the jet.

“We will reach the Don in 30 minutes,” the driver said to us as he pulled out of the airport.

I looked at Niccolo. “Does Don Vicari live in Palermo?”

“No, that’s just where we’re meeting.”

“Why didn’t we fly onto his property?”

“Because no one knows for sure where it is, and he probably doesn’t want us to know. One more lesson: Sicilians are famously paranoid.”

“You would be, too,” the driver said in a grumpy voice, “if everybody tried to kill you all the time.”

“Agreed,” Niccolo said pleasantly, then gave me a look. See? Be careful what you say.

We drove for 20 minutes along the coast. Once we got off the highway, we started down winding streets bordered by tan residential buildings. The two- and three-story ones looked like they were a couple of centuries old, but the taller apartment buildings might have been built in the last few decades.

It wasn’t the best neighborhood. A lot of the buildings looked rundown, and there were piles of garbage along the street. Cement walls along the road were plastered with tacky billboards for grocery stores and car dealerships.

If this guy wants to meet HERE, I thought, I don’t see how he’s the richest man in the Cosa Nostra.

I had to eat my words. The rundown neighborhood gave way to a nicer area, and the car pulled up to a huge hotel that sat behind a tan wall with metal gates.

A white-gloved porter let us in, and we parked in front of the lobby.

I noticed a couple of things.

Number one: the valets eyed our car nervously and kept their distance.

Number two: when the driver got out, nobody came over to take the keys from him or drive the car somewhere else. Apparently he was just going to leave it there, and nobody was going to say otherwise.

Number three: when Nic and I got out, the driver didn’t make the slightest effort to open our doors for us.

Not that I cared; I wasn’t a spoiled little rich boy who needed my car door held open for me. But it was interesting that the driver genuinely didn’t seem to give a fuck about offending us.

He led the way into the lobby, which was insane.

In The Godfather Part II, Michael Corleone goes to Cuba to see another gangster about investing in Havana casinos. The problem is that he goes at the end of 1958, just as Fidel Castro’s forces are about to seize control and turn the island communist.

Anyway, the hotel in the movie is amazing: beautiful, huge, and built over a hundred years ago with a lot of old-world charm and luxury.

That’s what this hotel reminded me of: the Cuban hotel in The Godfather Part II. It looked like somebody had transported it right from the film into modern-day Palermo. The polished wooden check-in desks... the plush red-and-gold carpet... the white hallways and high-arched doorways.

The driver led us past all that and down the hall.

I noticed once again that all the desk workers and bellhops glanced nervously at us as we passed. Still, nobody said anything or even smiled in greeting.

Apparently they knew we were there for Don Vicari...

And they knew who – and what – he was.

The driver ushered us into an elevator made of dark wood and brass trimmings. When we got out on the fourth floor, we walked down the luxurious hallway past a dozen rooms until we reached a couple of big-ass doors. On the wall was a brass plaque engraved with the words La Suite Presidenziale – The Presidential Suite.

The driver knocked twice.

At the same time, Niccolo flashed me a look: Don’t do anything stupid.

Then the door opened, and we walked into a completely different world.

Half a dozen guys stood around in the foyer of a giant suite. They ranged from my age to late 40s, and they all wore suits that were either cheap or a decade out of style.

These guys definitely didn’t give a shit about fashion.

A couple of them patted me and Niccolo down. Satisfied that we weren’t carrying, they led us through another set of doors...

And into the main living room of the suite.

At the far end of the room, in a throne-like wooden chair, sat Don Vicari.

He was in his late 50s – about my father’s age when he died.

Once upon a time, Vicari had probably been a real bruiser. He was built like a heavyweight boxer and still had a muscular body, but he also had a gut.

He wasn’t fat, though – at least not around the face. No jowls, no double chin. More like he was just... solid. Meaty. A guy you did not want to get into a fistfight with.

His suit was even worse than his men’s: casual, old, and out of style. It looked like he’d stopped buying new clothes 20 years ago.

The only flamboyant thing he wore was a diamond set into a heavy gold ring. Not like a wedding ring, with the rock exposed, but with the diamond sunk deep into the gold base.

His hair – combed straight back from his forehead – was thinning slightly but still jet black.

The mustache was exactly the same as I remembered it: big and bushy, a real porn ‘stache. No beard, although he had five o’clock shadow on his chin and cheeks. Which was impressive, considering it was early afternoon.

But it was his eyes that stopped you in your tracks.

They were just... dead.

The brown irises were so dark that they appeared almost as black as the pupils... and he stared at you like a shark would: utterly unconcerned about whether you lived or died.

A stone-cold killer’s eyes.

I liked to think I was pretty tough...

But when this guy looked at me, a shiver ran down my spine.

“Don Vicari,” Niccolo said cheerfully. “Good to see you.”

“Sit,” the bastard said in a gravelly voice as he gestured at two empty, much smaller chairs opposite him.

No How do you do.

No Thanks for coming.

Just Sit.

We sat.

Niccolo smiled and played the part of the respectful guest. “Thank you for having us. It’s an honor.”

“Such a great honor that your don couldn’t be bothered to come,” Vicari said.

He didn’t sound pissed off or angry. More like he was just saying Bullshit in a bored tone of voice.

Niccolo’s smile tightened. “As you know, an attempt was recently made on my brother’s life. Blame me for his absence – I was the one who insisted he not accompany us.”

“Hrm,” Vicari grunted, then looked at me. My skin crawled as he peered at me like he was buying a horse. “So this is him.”

“This...” Niccolo said theatrically, “is Valentino.”

Vicari looked me up and down dubiously. “He’s a little too pretty.”

“Give me a gun and I’ll show you who’s a little too pretty,” I shot back.

Niccolo gave me a death stare like I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF IF YOU SAY ANY MORE SHIT LIKE THAT.

But Vicari laughed.

Well... he gave one single, barking laugh.

However, he didn’t smile. His brain apparently didn’t let his face know that he found it amusing.

“Heh. That’s funny.”

Niccolo looked back at the mafia don with a desperate grin. “Valentino... he’s a kidder, that one!”

“Alright,” Vicari said, and looked back at Niccolo. “Let’s talk.”

Niccolo gestured with one hand like, Go right ahead.

“He marries my daughter, I back you at the Council,” Vicari said. “In addition, I’ll loan you 20 of my men to go up against Fausto.”

“Only 20?” Niccolo asked. His voice held the first hint of displeasure I’d heard from him since we’d walked in the door.

“Twenty Sicilians are worth a hundred Tuscans,” Vicari said – not boastful, just like it was a matter of fact. “But I’m not giving you any money.”

Niccolo smiled tightly. “We have the money situation under control.”

After what Dario had told me, I knew that was an outright lie.

“Good,” Vicari said. “He’ll live here in Sicily for the first five years. You can come visit, but he stays in Sicily. After five years, we can talk.”

“Reasonable,” Niccolo agreed.

I was getting pissed about being talked about in the third person – and that my entire life was being negotiated without me having any say in the matter –

But for the moment, I kept my mouth shut.

“I want grandchildren,” Vicari said. “Lots of them. And I want them as soon as possible.”

“May it be so,” Niccolo said with a smile.

When I didn’t say anything, Vicari looked at me and said, “Understood?”

“Understood,” Niccolo interjected.

“I want to hear him say it,” Vicari said, not taking his eyes off me.

“I understand,” I said coldly.

Vicari settled back in his chair like he was taking my measure. After a few seconds, he spoke. “You got something to say, say it now.”

“We discussed the situation – ” Niccolo started –

But Vicari raised a hand without looking at him, and Niccolo fell silent.

“Well?” Vicari asked me. “Say it.”

I looked at him for a long moment...

Then asked, “Why does your daughter need an arranged marriage?”

“Heh,” Vicari laughed, again without any change in expression. “What you mean is, is she an ugly cow.”

Niccolo started panicking. “I’m sure that – ”

“I’m talking to my future son-in-law,” Vicari said without looking away from me.

Niccolo shut up and just sat there unhappily.

“She’s a pleasant-looking girl,” Vicari said. “Not a great beauty, but nice enough. But she’s an odd duck. Always got her nose in a book. Always reading.

“I’ve brought her suitors before. She didn’t care for any of them. But she’s 24 now. It’s time. She waits any longer, she’s gonna be an old maid.”

Jesus...

Niccolo had told me a lot about Sicilians, but he didn’t mention they were assholes.

“I can’t promise she’ll be a great wife, but we’ve got servants for cooking and cleaning,” Vicari continued. “You’ll have to make do with the rest. Any other questions?”

“Why me?” I asked.

“I remembered you. I figured you were pretty enough for her. Plus, your family’s desperate,” Vicari said. He wasn’t mean-spirited, just matter-of-fact. “And I want to expand out of Sicily. It’s a good match. Anything else?”

“What about Mezzasalma?”

“Ah. The elephant in the room.” Vicari nodded, almost approvingly. “Mezzasalma controlled the southern part of Sicily. Ragusa, Pozzallo... Rosolini, too. That’s where your grandfather Vito came from.”

I’d heard that ever since I was born: that my family’s name was the same as the town my grandparents came from. I’d never seen it, though. I’d never even set foot in Sicily before today.

“Jacopo Gargano took over Vito’s territory when he left,” Vicari explained. “Mezzasalma was his enforcer. Then Mezzasalma killed Gargano and his entire family. Wiped them all out one night as they slept in their beds.”

“And you were okay with that?” I asked incredulously.

“My father was fine with it. He was in charge back then. He never had a problem with Mezzasalma. Mezzasalma was respectful to him. And he always paid my family our cut. Besides, Gargano was weak; Mezzasalma was strong. In Sicily, the strong eat the weak. That’s just the way of things. My father saw no reason to get involved.

“When my father died and I took over, I could tell Mezzasalma was going to be a problem one day. He was getting too rich off the drugs he was smuggling in from North Africa. Of course, he was making me rich with the percentage he was paying me – but I knew he’d eventually try to do to me what he did to Gargano. So I was always on my guard.

“That’s why, when he came to me and asked to go the mainland, I gave him my blessing. I took over his territory, promised him a cut of all future profits, and off he went.” Vicari shrugged. “Mezzasalma stopped being my problem and became someone else’s.”

“Yeah – ours,” I snapped.

Niccolo glared at me, but I ignored him.

Besides, Vicari didn’t seem offended.

“I never thought he would try to take down your family. He was always sentimental about your grandfather. I would’ve never guessed he’d try to kill the rest of you.”

“Would you have told us if you’d known?” I asked.

“No,” Vicari said matter-of-factly.

“Why not?!”

“Because I didn’t owe you shit. Just like you didn’t owe me shit. Which is another reason this marriage is good for you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because once you marry my daughter, you become sangue di mi sangue.”

The words probably meant Blood of my blood...

But the right way to say ‘blood of my blood’ was actually Sangue del mio sangue.

The literal translation of Sangue di mi sangue was Blood from my blood.

I figured it was a Sicilian saying –

But I had no idea what it meant.

“...what?” I asked, puzzled.

“It’s an old Sicilian blood oath,” Niccolo said in a quiet voice.

“The oldest,” Vicari said. “Older than omertà. You know omertà?”

“The code of silence,” I said.

“Honor and silence,” Vicari said. “Sangue di mi sangue is an unbreakable promise. It means that you’re not only part of my family... you’re my flesh and blood. Anybody who fucks with you, fucks with me. And nobody fucks with me.”

“Does that mean you’ll be supplying us with more than 20 men?” Niccolo asked hopefully.

“It means HE’S sangue di mi sangue,” Vicari said, pointing at me. “If your uncle fucks with him, then I’ll take it as my personal mission to destroy Fausto. But you? You’re just an in-law... and in-laws get 20 men.”

“Wonderful,” Niccolo said drily.

“So if I’d been ‘blood of your blood,’” I said sarcastically, “then you would have warned us about Mezzasalma?”

“Of course,” Vicari said. “But don’t take it personal. Nothing about it was personal. Like I said: in Sicily, the strong eat the weak.

Whoever Mezzasalma went after, the strongest would win – and that’s exactly what happened. He went after the Agrellas and he slaughtered them like pigs. Then he went up against you – ”

“And we fucked his shit up.”

For the first time, Vicari smiled – although it was the most chilling, blood-curdling smile I’d ever seen.

“And you fucked his shit up,” he agreed.

“Apparently it’s not just Sicily where the strong eat the weak,” I said coolly.

“Apparently not. In fact, that was another reason I wanted the marriage. Any men who could take out Mezzasalma are allies worth having.”

I laughed.

Vicari frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Because it was a girl who took out Mezzasalma.”

Vicari stared at me blankly. “...what?”

Niccolo jumped in. “Actually, Adriano was the one who shot him – ”

“But it was Bianca who wrecked the fucking car,” I snapped.

I figured credit where credit was due.

“A girl, you say,” Vicari muttered.

“My sister-in-law.”

“Huh.” Vicari thought for a long second... then shrugged. “Bad luck catches up with us all sometimes. I guess it caught up with Mezzasalma.”

Bad luck my ASS.

Vicari wouldn’t admit a woman could kill somebody like Mezzasalma.

“The old woman who tried to kill Dario a couple months ago was Sicilian, too,” I snapped.

“Don’t know anything about her,” Vicari said dismissively.

Filomena had been Sicilian; Alessandra was Tuscan – or at least she’d grown up in Tuscany, like me and my brothers.

I was about to taunt Vicari with a few snide remarks about how Tuscans could kill Sicilians, but Sicilians apparently couldn’t kill Tuscans –

When Niccolo stepped in and said, “We should talk about the wedding.”

“I want it done as soon as possible,” Vicari replied. Then he added with a sneer in his voice, “We can do it tomorrow if your don is willing to come out of hiding.”

The insult about Dario coming out of hiding was a pretty big one, but I glided right past it because –

TOMORROW?!

I felt like I might vomit.

Niccolo didn’t smile this time. “Tomorrow is far too soon. We have one brother who’s working with the Widow of Venice – ”

“THAT old bitch,” Vicari grunted.

Niccolo clenched his jaw. “At any rate, Massimo is unreachable at the moment, and we have no idea when he’ll complete his mission. My brother Roberto is in Hong Kong negotiating a financial deal.”

I noticed Niccolo didn’t mention anything about Lars. Maybe he didn’t want to give away all our weaknesses, especially with our enforcer gone.

Vicari snorted. “Negotiating a financial deal at a time like this?”

Niccolo had just about had enough. I could hear it in the coldness of his voice when he said, “So we can hire more than 20 Sicilians.”

Vicari heard the disrespect in Nic’s voice and glared at him. “Watch your tone, consigliere.”

“Then don’t imply my don is in hiding,” Niccolo shot back angrily.

Whoa.

Vicari and Niccolo stared each other down like gunslingers in a western.

Electricity crackled in the air. Vicari’s goons tensed up behind him.

I didn’t know what the fuck they thought Nic was going do without a gun, though. Maybe jump up and try to choke their boss?

However it panned out, I was really hoping this little pissing match would sink the whole deal. Then I could go home to Caterina –

But Vicari blinked first.

“Two weeks,” he said.

Niccolo shook his head. “That’s still – ”

“Two weeks, with the understanding we’ll postpone if the situation with your brothers gets worse.”

Niccolo sat there for a second in silence, considering...

Then nodded. “Alright.”

My stomach plummeted.

My fate was sealed.

“Anything else?” Vicari asked Niccolo.

“I can work out the details with your consigliere over the next two weeks.”

“My consigliere is dead.”

“Oh,” Niccolo said in surprise. “I’m sorry to hear that. How did he die?”

“I killed him,” Vicari said, then gave that horrifying smile again. “He was terrible at his job.”

Nic and I both sat there, stunned.

Vicari had killed his own consigliere –

Which was shocking. Unheard of.

A don had probably killed his consigliere at some point in the past –

But I’d never heard of it happening in my lifetime.

A consigliere was a don’s most trusted confidant. The Number Two Man in the organization, chosen for his loyalty.

If Vicari had murdered his consigliere...

Then he was letting us know he was capable of just about anything.

It rattled me...

And though he tried not to show it, it rattled my brother, too.

“...I see,” Niccolo said. “Well, then... I’ll just work out the details with whoever your new consigliere is.”

“You can work them out with me... since I won’t be replacing him anytime soon.”

Don Vicari stood up, signaling the meeting was over.

Niccolo and I stood up right after him – half out of respect, and half the same way you’d flinch if a king cobra flared its hood.

Vicari turned to me. “We should get going. It’s a two-hour car ride.” Then he looked at Niccolo. “My driver will take you back to the plane.”

“Excellent,” Niccolo replied. “I’d like a word with my brother before I go.”

Vicari motioned like, Go ahead.

Niccolo walked away from all the other gangsters. I quickly followed him.

“What the fuck have you gotten me into?” I whispered in a panic.

“Sicily,” he said drily. “Just play by his rules and everything will be fine.”

“Niccolo – ”

“Listen to me,” he whispered urgently. “Without a consigliere, Don Vicari will have no restraints – no voice of reason to temper him. He’ll do whatever the fuck he pleases. Any dark impulses will be magnified, any blind spots will become mountains. And if things go to shit, he’ll blame people around him rather than take responsibility. Do not put yourself in a position where he can blame you for anything. Do what he says at all times.”

“Niccolo, you can’t leave me here,” I said frantically.

“We have no choice. The die is cast,” he said grimly. “Now calm down – I need to tell you one last thing.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Up until now, you’ve had the luxury of being young. Impetuous. Acting without thinking. Little to no responsibility. Doing only what you wanted, when you wanted. You can’t afford those luxuries anymore. From here on out, this is an entirely different game. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No,” I snarled.

“Then I’ll make it clearer for you.” Nic looked me dead in the eyes. “Do your duty to your family, whatever the cost.”

Then he hugged me briefly...