Forgetting the Enemy (Enemy Duet Book 1) Read online

  “No. No, Vince, no. Cookie dough has raw eggs, and you should not eat raw eggs. And you’re not my favorite. I don’t have favorites.” She’s admonishing him, no doubt.

  “But, Greta, you know I’m your favorite, and I think it is important to note that I’ve been eating raw cookie dough for as long as I can remember. Just look at me. I’m as healthy as a horse!” He walks to her and puts his arm around her. “Come on, love, you know you’re gonna cave.” He’s smiling, and I can see the myrrh in his eyes.

  Greta completely gives in and waves her hand, saying, “Fine, one taste.”

  He kisses her on the cheek as he reaches into the bowl with the raw cookie dough, then digs his spoon in to get as much as he can. Once he takes the spoon to his mouth, he turns and sees me standing in the doorway.

  “Hey, sis!” he says with a smile. My brother is quite handsome and very much the charmer. I think he would charm the socks off the most prudish woman and get her agreeing to whatever he wanted in less than five minutes. He’s gonna make a great Don someday, and I pray it’s sooner rather than later when it happens. He would never force me to do what my father is planning—never. His green eyes sparkle as he licks the spoon clean.

  “Can I talk to you in private?” I ask.

  “Of course, Zaira.” He puts his spoon down and walks toward me. “Let’s go outside on the patio and chat.” Turning back toward Greta, he says, “Hey, love, can you have…ugh, what’s her name bring us a couple of ice teas please?”

  Greta shakes her head and says, “Her name is Holly, and she is the new housemaid,” Greta says, correcting him. “And yes, I will tell her.”

  “I’m sorry, Greta. You know we have more maids running through this house than I care to count. Seriously, I’ve been thinking about changing the door to the servant’s quarters to a revolving one. Might make things easier, don’t ya think?”

  She rolls her eyes and says, “Go, and get out of my kitchen!”

  He gives her another kiss on the cheek and says, “You may not admit that I am your favorite, Greta, but you’ve always been mine.”

  When he leaves the room, I turn back toward Greta with a shrug, and she smiles so big, I think she is gonna burst. That’s my brother, the ultimate charmer. I turn around and follow Vince outside the patio doors.

  He sits at the table and looks at me curiously, “So, what’s up?”

  “Have you talked to Papa?” I ask.

  “About what?” He leans forward, curious about where I’m going with this conversation. We usually don’t discuss our father’s decisions about things because we both know all our complaining and commiserating about his choices won’t change a thing. But this time is different. I’m desperate, and the only one I can turn to is Vince.

  “He’s made a match for me,” I say sadly. “Victor and I are engaged.”

  “Fuck!” Vince shakes his head. “I had a feeling this was going to happen.”

  “Did he tell you what he was planning?”

  “No, but some of the conversations I’ve been privy to between him and Victor have alluded to it,” he says.

  “What am I gonna do, Vince?” Tears fall from my eyes. “I can’t marry him.”

  Vince reaches over and brushes a tear from my cheek. “You know what, I’m done cowering to the animal we call ‘Father,’ and Victor is no better.”

  “Vince, I’m not sure there is anything you can do, but if you can think of something, you’re my last hope,” I plead.

  He sits there in silence, and I can tell he is in deep thought. Then, as if a light bulb shines in his head, he says, “Actually, Zaira, there is.” He pauses and then looks directly into my eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  I nod. “Yes, of course I do. I trust you more than anyone.”

  “Good,” he says. “I want you to be the perfect daughter. Go through the motions of being the perfect fiancée and leave the rest to me. I promise you, you will not have to marry Victor.” He gets up from his chair and bends to kiss my forehead. “Can you do that?”

  Weary at his ambition, I reply, “Yes, I can do that.” Really at this point I don’t have a choice. “You really think you can help me?”

  “Personally, no, I can’t. But I know someone who will be more than happy to take care of it for me.” He pauses. “I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” he says in his best Marlon Brando impersonation from the Godfather.

  “Please don’t joke, Vince. This is serious.”

  He leans over again and kisses my cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make fun; I was just trying to lighten the situation. I know it’s serious, and I promise you I’ll fix it. Can you do what I ask?”

  It’s not something I am looking forward to, and the thought of being Victor’s fiancée repulses me, but I do trust Vince. If he says he’ll take care of it, then I believe him.

  “I have some calls to make,” he says. “Remember what I said. Go through all the motions, Zaira. You have to be convincing. Capisci?”

  “I understand,” I reply.

  He leaves the patio just as Holly brings our ice teas. She sets them on the table and asks, “Should I take the other one back, Miss Zaira?”

  I smile. She’s really sweet, and I hope she sticks around with us a little longer than the last one. With my father at the helm, you never know. “No, Holly, you can leave it. I’ll probably end up drinking it anyway. I’m gonna sit out here for a while. Thank you.”

  She smiles and leaves.

  Chapter 2

  Michael

  “So, Vince, what brings you to The North Shore?” I pause but then continue before he can answer. “I have to admit, Pop and I were surprised to hear you wanted to meet with us.” I look over at Ricco and nod. I really don’t think I need to worry about safety around Vince, but I double-check with Ricco to make sure he’s on point just in case. He nods back to assure me he’s got my back.

  “Michael, we’ve known each other a long time. We grew up together, went to school together, and at one point, we were even friends,” Vince says.

  I nod. “We were until your bastard father accused my family of murdering your mother. Which you know is a complete lie.”

  Vince looks down. “Look, Michael, I hope you know that was all my father. I never believed the hit came from the Vitalis. I’ve tried to talk to Pop about it several times, but you know there’s no reasoning with him.”

  He’s right about that. I’m anxious to find out why he wants this meet. When he called Ricco to request it, he said it had to do with Zaira. I’m not sure if it really has to do with her or if he used it as a sure way to get my attention. In either case, I really believe it was the only reason I agreed to this. I’ve always had a soft spot for his younger sister. Hell, when our families were civil to each other, it was always implied Zaira and I would marry. I never really gave marriage much thought, but being married to Zaira couldn’t have been all that bad. I mean, hell she’s a fucking knockout, but there was also something mesmerizing about the way she looked at me that I swear I would do anything for her if she asked.

  “So why the meet?” I’m getting impatient. I didn’t agree to this to rehash of history between our families. I want to know why this involves Zaira.

  “Well, like I told you, it’s about Zaira,” he says.

  I give him a look that says, I already know that. Now tell me something I don’t know.

  “She’s engaged to marry Victor Masserie.” He stops and waits for a reaction from me.

  Outwardly, I give him nothing. Inside, I’m shocked and more pissed than I’d like to be. Her father is a son of a bitch, but Victor is just plain cruel. He’s been trying to build his own family. We all know it, but unfortunately Bonita is blind to Victor and his ambition, and I’m sure the bastard has convinced Alberto an alliance between the two families will increase Alberto’s power. The thought of Zaira married to that fucker makes my skin crawl. Besides, she’s supposed to be my fucking wife! Where the fuck did this come from?


  But, like my father taught me, I show no sign of anger and remain calm in front of Vince. “So why are you telling me this? My family has nothing to do with any of that,” I say defensively. I’ll really be pissed if he tries to pin this alliance move by Victor on my family.

  Vince looks at Armino, his bodyguard and capo, and says, “Armino, take a walk.”

  Without question, Armino nods, turns, and walks away from the table Vince and I are sitting at by the pool of my family home and compound.

  “Ricco,” I say, looking at him and gesturing for him to do the same.

  “No, Ricco. You need to stay for this.” He pauses and says, “If that is okay with you, Michael?”

  I nod. “I trust Ricco with my life. I was only asking him to go to be respectful to you. I figured what you were about to tell me was confidential.”

  “It is, but he needs to hear this too.” Vince looks at me warily. “Voglio che tu uccida mio padre e Victor Masserie,” Vince blurts out.

  What the fuck? Does he have any idea the ramifications of what he just said? No wonder he asked Armino to take a walk. Fuck! “What the hell, Vince? Do you realize what you are asking?”

  He nods but doesn’t say anything.

  “If we hit your father, it’s a power move and a declaration of war on the other three families of New York.” I shake my head and rub my temples. I’m too young to deal with this shit. Fuck, I’m not even the Don yet. Speaking of the Don, my father will never agree to this.”

  “I knew you were going to react this way, but just hear me out, Michael.”

  I look at him and stupidly agree to listen to what he has to say. I should send him on his way and have him find someone else to do what he asks, but if I do, and he gets someone else, they could fuck up the situation worse and then we’re all screwed. “Dimmi, whether I agree to hear your out or not, you’re gonna tell me anyway,” I say reluctantly. I should have my fucking head examined for entertaining this one.

  “So my father is forcing Zaira to marry Victor. She is devastated, but she will not object to the marriage openly and defy my father or Victor. She knows the role she’s been raised to fill and what’s expected of her. It breaks me to know my sister is destined to marry a man she detests. Victor will treat her worse than the dirt under his shoes. He will abuse her, Michael, physically and mentally. I can’t sit back and allow it to happen. Zaira and Mia, they’re special. They have sweetness to them that they have been able to keep even amongst this hell we have created around them. Per favore, Michael. Please.”

  “I don’t know, Vince. What you’re asking—”

  “What if it was Gina?” he asks, cutting me off. “What would you do then?”

  I’ll tell you what I’d do; I’d fuck up anyone who would hurt my kid sister. But also, Gina would never be in this type of situation. “You know I can’t answer that question. My father would never force Gina to marry a man she didn’t love,” I reply.

  “Exactly. That’s my point. Your father… Fuck, Michael, your whole family deserves the respect they command. My father’s way of doing things? Well, frankly, è nel passato. It’s the past. His way of thinking and the way he treats women are the old ways, and I think we all would like a change. He’s cruel and ruthless, and he must be stopped. The only way to do that is to kill him, and the Vitalis have to do it.”

  “War, Vince, that’s what you’re asking of my family.”

  “I know, but I can’t do this alone. I don’t have the muscle, but the Vitalis do. Your family is the strongest of the five families, and I believe the others will follow suite if the Vitalis act. None of the other families practice the old ways like my father, and I believe they will rejoice when it is all said and done.”

  “If that’s the case, then you surely can handle this without getting us involved,” I reply.

  “No, Michael. I can’t. You are wrong. Our family is different than your family. You can trust every man working for you all the way down to your soldiers and buttons. Me? I have no fucking clue whom to trust. Hell, I even had to ask my personal bodyguard to step away so he could not hear this conversation. I can’t even trust him completely. He works for my father. Those who are loyal to my father will rise against whoever takes him and Victor out. The Vitalis are the only ones who have enough muscle to stand against them.”

  “If we agree to this, what happens to the Bonitas? Do you take over the family?” I ask.

  “No, I don’t. I know I’m destined to take over when my father passes on, but in all seriousness, I don’t want it. I’m a lawyer, Michael. I like the law, and I like what I do. I’ve never wanted to be head of the family and would be completely comfortable merging our two families together.”

  “So all the soldiers loyal to you would be part of the Vitali family?” I ask. I know it’s what he said, but I need a definite confirmation.

  “Yes. That is exactly what I’m proposing.”

  “And what role do you play in all of this? If you don’t want to be a part of your birthright, then what happens to you?” I ask.

  “Hell, I don’t know. I will still be a part of the family. Obviously that will never change. But, Michael, I could never be a wise guy, tough guy, or whatever they call themselves. What about an advisor to the family?”

  “We have a consigliere,” I reply matter-of-factly.

  “I wasn’t thinking consigliere, just an advisor. You’d have a guaranteed attorney on the family’s side always. I’m one of the top defense attorneys in the state. And, I’m not only licensed in New York. I can practice in several states, thus covering your interests throughout the country.”

  “Fuck, Vince, I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Pensaci. That’s all I ask, just think about it.” He stands from his chair, and I nod. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”

  I look at Ricco to escort Vince out.

  Over his shoulder, he calls, “I’ll be in touch.”

  I watch him walk back toward the house, and my first thought is how totally insane I am to even entertain this, but if we could pull it off, it could be a good thing. Dolce giustizia. Sweet justice. And the world would be rid of not just one but two sick bastards.

  I leave the pool and head straight for my father’s office. He should have been in on this meeting, but he insisted I handle this one on my own. He is working really hard to prepare me to take over. He’s reminded me many times my thirtieth birthday is around the corner and that he’s ready to retire and grow old with my mom.

  I chuckle to myself. My father is such a hopeless romantic. He is ruthless in business but a puppy dog when it comes to my mother. I can only hope to find a love like theirs when I settle down.

  ***

  I knock on my father’s office door.

  “Enter,” I hear through the door.

  After opening the door, I step in. My father is sitting in the chair at his desk, reclined back with his feet propped up on it, and he’s smoking a cigar.

  “Ah, Michael, have a Partagas. I have to say, these Number Fours are robust yet smooth. I like them.” Handing me a cigar, he says, “Remind me to get some more of these.”

  “Pop, non dovresti fumare,” I say, admonishing him. “Mom would have your hide if she saw you smoking.”

  “I know, but fuck, they’re good. Non dirlo a tua madre.” He takes another puff. He’s like a little kid, asking me to not tell on him. The aroma fills the room, and I find I am now itching to light my own. I grab his lighter to do just that, then take a drag. He’s right, robust and yet smooth.

  Shaking my head, I reply, “I swear you encourage me to smoke with you so that I won’t say anything to mom about it. You’re manipulating me to feel guilty because I choose to smoke with you, therefore appearing as I am encouraging you to do something you shouldn’t be doing.”

  He laughs. “Of course I do. But I also like sharing a stogy with my son as well.” He pauses and then asks, “So what did Vince want?”

  I take ano
ther hit of my cigar, exhale and then say, “Oh, Pop, you’re not gonna believe this one.”

  He laughs again, and I tell him what Vince and I discussed.

  “Damn,” my father says when I finish telling him everything. He lifts his hand and runs it through his hair. As I watch him do this, it occurs to me that although my father is beginning to show his age in his face and hands, there is not a gray hair on his head. He looks at me and then says again, “Damn, Michael. I don’t know how to react to this.”

  I chuckle. “Is that all you got, Pop? I was hoping for a little guidance here.”

  “This is your call, Michael. In six months”—he gestures his hands to encompass everything around him—“this will be all yours. The decision has to come from you. I’ll stand by you with whatever you decide, and I will give you all the guidance you want, but I will not make this decision for you.”

  “Do you think it is doable?” I ask. I heard everything he just said, but I need something from him telling me it can be done.

  He stands from his chair and walks toward me. Patting me on the back, he says, “Michael, my boy, over the years I have seen you accomplish the unimaginable. I have no doubts you would be able to accomplish anything once you put your mind to it.”

  “You’re not gonna give me anything more, are you?”

  “Nope, it’s time, Michael. Spread your wings and fly,” he says.

  “Can I ask you one thing?”

  “Of course.”

  “I know what I want to do, but tell me, if you were me, would you do it?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “Ah, now who is the manipulator?”

  “Come on, Pop, would you?”

  “If I was your age and in your shoes, fuck yeah I would do it. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to see that SOB dead and his fucking underboss, Masserie, buried six feet under.”