“I would never do anything to hurt you!”
“That’s not possible.” Sergio grimaced. He smiled contemptuously. “You have never cared for anything but women, drugs, and fistfights. Just keep on like that.”
“Papa!” Cesare whined. He stretched out his hands. “I’ll never take drugs again, I swear to you! Please, don’t go! I’m your son!”
“Unfortunately, you are. But I have to leave. I have appointments.” Sergio looked at his watch. “Luca, you come to the city with me. I still need to discuss something with you.”
Sergio scowled at his son.
“You’ve failed to understand my most important rule, Cesare.”
“Rule? What do you mean?” Cesare nervously looked back and forth between his father and the other two men, who were standing next to him with blank faces.
“Don’t shit where you eat.”
His father’s uncharacteristic outburst of vulgarity made Cesare wince.
“Keep me posted, Silvio,” Sergio said and left the room accompanied by Luca. Cesare sank down in his chair and began sobbing.
Luca di Varese sat down next to his boss in the back of the limousine. He sensed what Sergio wanted to talk to him about. Luca was a silent and slender man, thirty-eight years old. He came from the South Bronx and was orphaned at the age of four when his parents died in a building fire. His mother was the cousin of Sergio’s wife Constanzia. Sergio had gotten to know the child and noticed his intelligence. He sent Luca to a good school, paid for his college degree in business administration, and made him the CEO of the Crown Regal Corporation at the tender age of twenty-six. This corporation managed all of the hotels and casinos that Sergio owned throughout the country, but the illegal part of his business was also embedded in it. Luca di Varese supervised illegal gambling, prostitution, and drug dealing for his boss, as well as laundering the funds that came from these lines of business.
“This boy is turning into a serious threat,” Sergio said after a while, shaking his head pensively. “He can’t stay in the city under any circumstances.”
“You really won’t help him?” Luca asked.
“Of course I will,” Sergio sighed. “I hope that I can straighten out this matter by the end of today. As soon as the charges against him are dropped, he must get out of here for a while. I’ve thought about Europe.”
“He could work for Barandetti in Napoli,” Luca suggested, “not for us, of course, but in fish wholesale or his warehouse. Drive around a forklift. Things like that.”
“Call Michele. If he doesn’t have anything for him, try Stefano Piesini in Verona. It wouldn’t hurt Cesare to spend a summer working in a vineyard.”
Luca nodded. They sat silently in the back of the limousine.
“However, I doubt that he’ll stay in Europe for the whole summer.” Sergio’s voice had a gloomy undertone. “His mother will take him in again. As usual.”
He turned his head toward Luca and looked at him sternly.
“I will say this only once and only to you, Luca”—his voice was quiet—“but if the situation arises, I expect that you will not hesitate, not for one second.”
Luca looked at his boss without flinching.
“I don’t care whether he is my son or not. I will sacrifice him before he causes me serious trouble with his stupidity. Do you understand that?”
Luca nodded.
“Will you promise to take care of this personally?”
Luca di Varese’s face didn’t reveal what he thought about his boss’s decision. He didn’t ask any questions or try to put in a good word for Cesare. Luca’s loyalty was unconditional, devoid of criticism.
“I promise, boss.”
Alex was drenched through to the skin when she returned home with her groceries late that afternoon. She placed the four grocery bags on the kitchen table and transferred their contents to the fridge. It was totally empty, as usual. Sergio had actually planned to spend the day with her, but then another appointment had gotten in the way and he had someone drive her home at nine thirty. Whenever Alex came from his Park Avenue apartment to her place in Greenwich Village, she felt like Cinderella, and she was annoyed that she didn’t have time to look for a nicer place. She lit a cigarette and thought about the past evening. She grinned as she remembered the many admiring and curious looks. People were curious because Sergio Vitali only had eyes for her the entire evening. Half of New York was surely speculating about who she was and what kind of relationship she had with Sergio. It was simply unbelievable how far she had made it! She felt like she was walking on air. The ringing of her cell phone startled her out of her thoughts.
“Good afternoon.” It was Zack, and he sounded smug. “Did you enjoy your excursion into the world of the rich and beautiful?”
“What do you mean by that?” Alex played dumb. How could Zack know where she’d been last night?
“Vince told me that you were with Vitali at the Plaza. He was somewhat…surprised.”
“I’m an adult. I can go out with whoever I want,” Alex responded more coldly than she had intended.
“Of course.” Zack laughed in a suggestive manner. “So do you fancy Vitali or just his connections?”
“That’s none of your business, Zack,” Alex snapped.
“It isn’t,” he admitted. “But now I understand why you keep brushing me off. Why would you waste your time with me if you’ve hit the jackpot?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Zack said in a spiteful tone. “Vitali fucks any woman he likes.”
“Are you mad because you don’t do it for me?”
“Nonsense,” Zack said with a laugh. “You’re not even my type.”
Alex’s laughter was forced. Zack was upset. Not because she consistently brushed off his overtures, but because she was in the process of passing him on her way up the social ladder. She’d spent the entire evening sitting at Vince Levy’s table at the Plaza and he had not. Maybe he was jealous about her success and her favorable position with LMI’s board. She realized she needed to deal with him very carefully in the future. He was an enigma, and it wasn’t good to have him as an enemy.
“Listen,” he said, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Micromax. I heard from a reliable source that they have serious management issues and that last quarter’s numbers were dressed up considerably. There are a couple of major film companies that are more than eager to get their hands on Micromax. This could turn out to be a good deal.”
Alex hesitated. Was Zack trying to meddle in her deals, or set out bait with this information?
“That sounds pretty interesting,” she answered. “Let’s talk about it on Monday. Okay?”
“Right.” Zack’s tone was no longer smug or upset. “And Alex, can I give you some advice?”
“What’s that?” Something inside of her went on the defensive.
He hesitated for a moment.
“Stay away from Vitali.”
Another warning! First Kostidis and now Zack. Why would he warn her about Sergio? Was he simply jealous, or was she doing him an injustice?
“Thanks, Zack,” she said, “you don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so. See you on Monday.”
Nelson van Mieren sat sweating under an umbrella on one of the terraces at Sergio’s luxurious villa on his private Cinnamon Island, part of the British Virgin Islands. He was disgruntled as he watched his boss and this Alex Sontheim walk up from the bay to the villa holding hands. They’d been cruising in Sergio’s snow-white, one-hundred-foot yacht Stella Maris—on which they’d come down here six days ago. Meanwhile, Nelson had been sitting around uselessly. Sergio had called him yesterday morning in New York and asked him to come here, although he very well knew that Nelson hated the climate and the entire island.