Luzo: Reign of a Mafia Don (4 page)

If left to Carlo’s warring temper, violence would be his only tool of negotiation. Thus again, he learned finesse in Luzo’s luxury apartment as he talked about the advantages of blackmail.

“The rich have far more to lose than a poor man. Exploit their weakness and there are many, then use it to your advantage. The destitute have nothing to barter and are less likely to take risks. However, when they do, threats of broken limbs they are willing to suffer in order to settle a debt as long as they can live. Eh, but the rich, no, they want nothing broken; they also do not want their reputations ruined. That is why fratellino, raise your wagers, make them only what a wealthy person can afford. You will have a higher return, limited financial losses and less exertion placed on your knuckles, capisce?”

This thinking is why at twenty-seven, Luzo Palazzo’s name had become synonymous with commerce. Carlo’s thuggish ways earned him the title of a brute. Luzo suggested Carlo consider beginning a legitimate business and not limit himself to the shadows. A reputable company would channel many frustrations,
foster pride of ownership and conceal the questionable earnings taxation sought to steal from his clandestine business.

Tax evasion and money laundering was Luzo’s forte
and Carlo listened.

To Luzo’s disdain, Carlo decided to operate a trash collection company. Unfortunately, there is a shady side to every
endeavor and Carlo always seemed to unearth the root. Carlo flourished in the underbelly of society. Luzo soon accepted this side of his brother, besides he had already dug in a polished shoe with their lot. In fact, Luzo rather liked the occasional seediness of illegality. As the eldest, he had to look out for Carlo or else he might burn down Paris.

Carlo whacked the desk to get Luzo’s attention. As usual his brother’s head was lowered, focused on numbers when not between the thighs of scandalous women. He enjoyed diversity and his conquests were usually ladies with self-assured airs. Marriage did not deter his brother. If he wanted something, he took possession.

Luzo’s latest affair cost Carlo a contract that would have brought in a large sum of money. During a card game with the husband of Luzo’s current strumpet, there was talk of Palazzo’s monopoly and cronyism. Carlo of course was not dense and recognized a smear campaign. The gamblers were wealthy businessmen with political and surreptitious acquaintances. The slighted coward of a husband’s motives was to gather support to besmirch his rival. This appeased a damaged ego, emasculated for a rumored lack of girth as the catalyst of a wife’s philandering. Many of his gambling friends took sport in his smaller than average pecker, which Carlo cared little about. They were unable to discern his dislike for Luzo Palazzo was personal and not tied to business. Luzo was young, attractive, wealthy and rumored to have a sizable cock. The women were flirtatious and Luzo simply had many women for the picking.

Carlo
had seen his brother’s pene on many occasions; they were brothers and an exaggeration is what rumors usually are. Luzo’s pene was slightly larger than average, so there is some truth he supposed, but Carlo’s pene was thick and long, even when limp. However, Luzo had more experience with donnas which made him far more talented beneath the sheets. But that is nobody’s business.

Eh, for Carlo there was also amusement to hear the rants of a jealous person when they have found comrades to champion their bullshit revolution.

Carlo had listened to the false reports which suggested Luzo was funding the coffers of the Ministry of Finance whom many detested. This lie gave rise to ill feelings and elicited threats of canceling signed agreements along with means of sabotaging Luzo’s company. They had spoken openly, unaware of Carlo’s blood relation to Luzo. An angry brother held himself rigid throughout their talks, seething yet careful not to show his hand.

Ah, how easy to have the naïve drink poison and not one pauses to sniff or question the acidity. The humorous musings ended and Carlo’s biased opinion was added to the acrid mix. One cannot totally go against rabid mobs or they may find themselves lynched. How proud Luzo would be to observe his
tempestuous sibling use finesse and nonchalance at his expense. “I have heard Palazzo is scheduled to permanently change residences. Of course I had to confirm this rumor, you know there are those who assume to have insider knowledge about the business of others, yet truly know nothing. Therefore, I have personally investigated the validity of the gossip. I have seen the proof; his residency application for citizenship abroad is dated the first of the month. Apparently, there is a woman of interest he has become smitten with,” Carlo shrugged, “who knows perhaps he will contract the feminine itch disease and never return. However, I am certain many here will not miss him in any event.” Carlo offered from behind a deck of cards to the simpletons.

The men laughed, their egos were assuaged. With Luzo out of the picture there was more commerce to
disperse among the sensitive finned sharks.

They were unaware Carlo had considered instead of words to
mar their soft faces. But, then he’d go to the workhouse and in a French prison he might feel the noose and hang before he could exact revenge on the culprits who changed his status from happy child to unhappy orphan.

Luzo’s loins birthed yet another powerful enemy in France, not women but envious businessmen. If they did not leave soon, Carlo feared his brother’s body may end up floating in the Sein
e. They had run their course on the soil of the French and it was time to return home. War with Algeria was on the horizon, this was the most opportune time to exit France.

Liberté, égalité, fraternité, is the national motto of the
people. It means liberty, equality, and fraternity. Carlo scoffed; these were neither his brothers nor friends.

Wait, is what Luzo always said when he approached the subject, but Carlo refused to wait any longer. They were not boys
anymore; they were men.

“We leave France ora. The timing is ripe. Memories are fading fratello, but I shall never forget!”
Carlo shouted at Luzo the next morning.

Carlo had expected an argument; instead he received
Luzo’s raised brow and an agreeable nod as he set aside his smoke. “Sí, fratellino,” Luzo said and then put a fist to his chest. “My blood courses with yours. I have already sent word, and arrangements are underway. Soon, we will see our brother, I rejoice in anticipation.” He had contacted Ernesto Serano who last night assured Luzo the Circle of Protectors would ensure they would not have issues with the documentation or inhabitance in Italy’s southern shores.

Carlo flopped heavily in the leather seat. His eyes were dark. “Fratello, you must settle down. I am afraid this vice of yours will not bode well in Sicily. Remember
Zio, por favore.”

Luzo sat behind the massive desk, a hand pressed to the wood, an eyebrow so dark, it was like a line of soot extending to his hairline. “You worry too much. Your temper flares and I caution you to gain control.”

“As you have controlled your pene?”

“Stronzo!” Luzo hissed. “What has worsened your foul disposition that you come to suck pleasantness from my air?”

“Because of your pene, I was forced to come to your defense.”

“Humph.”

Carlo snorted. “Your indifference offends me.”

“Everything offends you.”

“Because I do not understand this need of yours to conquer what you should respect.”

“Respeta?”

“Marriage is sacred. You should never take what is rightfully another’s.”

“Take…rightfully another’s…aye…people are not possessions. What rights are these laws that govern the spirit; do we not all have free will?”

“Sí, but guns, money and bands of armies squash humanity to the soil. That is why there must be honor in some acts or we become wild beasts!”

“I find your comparison to animals a correct summation, because beneath the clothes exists wild humans, which morality cannot control.”

“Honor fratello, is a code within and what I can proudly own and cannot be purchased or sold.”

“An honorable ideology
and a very interesting concept in a society of dishonorable people. You are an anomaly fratellino. I admire your conviction.”

“I do not wish to argue
morality fratello. I ask you cease this immoral compulsion. There are offenses that a husband will commit murder in order to save face. A jilted husband may bring death to your door. There are people who lack restraint, therefore do not tempt fate.”

Luzo smirked. “Ah, you bring hope to me. Mama would be proud to know you are chivalrous as well.” The blue oceans softened to a gentle tide. “I do not know what drives me at times, risk appears to be the reason…” Luzo suddenly ceased talking.

Carlo observed Luzo had gone far away. The blank stare was a man traveling to another place…home. Carlo understood the longing. He knew what drove his brother to do these immoral deeds but he did not say. The words may sound vile when spoken aloud. Carlo refrained from uttering Luzo missed their mother and searched for her comforting arms in others.

Yes, Carlo understood the desolation of being an orphan, but unlike Luzo when he thought of his parent’s marriage, he considered theirs a sacred ground. He did not want to interfere in the sanctity of unions. A robed cleric signs the cross in blessing, under the watchful eye
that sees wrongdoing. Do not covet another’s wife, is a commandment in scriptures. Luzo’s behavior was forbidden, it was written in stone. Although no longer a pious boy, Carlo knew the lust of wanting could lead to dishonor and the injury to a wounded spouse’s heart might travel a lethal road.

“Do not continue this way grande fratello. Do not seek to conquer a married woman, seek an unattached mademoiselle to love. Show respect to our mama and sisters, capisce?”

“And will you end these outbursts that over the years have cost a fortune to conceal after it has run its course?”

Carlo growled in frustration. “They are not the same.”

“A sin is a sin
Anthony
, judge and be judged, sí?” Luzo said using Carlo’s birth name to remind him of childhood teachings.

Carlo’s
hardened face was colored marble. It is true. He had killed many…in anger…they were threats...thus he had no close friends. Was Luzo’s iniquity more egregious than the murder of men?

Luzo spoke, “We have made a handsome profit here. To many we are successful entrepreneurs, yet we are unmarried and lack the proper key to unlock hidden doors. There is much more to be learned when inside someone’s home while sharing dinner and conversation in the company of his family. Sicilians honor the old ways. The right wife will help open society’s doors and gain me entry to places we have not ventured.”

“You speak of marriage like a callous merger. Have you not found love with any of the ladies you fuck fratello?”

Luzo chuckled. “Ah, fratellino, you are such a romantic. Marriage is a merger, love is not a requirement.” He then leaned comfortably in his chair. “We leave in two days. There is a matter that I must settle before we return to our homeland.”

Carlo found the news comforting. He had long waited for this day to step on Italy’s soil, to see his fratellino and visit his famiglia’s grave.”

There were voices in the hall. The secretary could be heard, shouting, “Monsieur…monsieur you cannot enter!”

Then the door flew open. Carlo was on his feet. Luzo remained seated, he did not rise, why should he, there is no standing for a king?

The intruder shouted, “I know what you have done!”

“I am sorry Monsieur Palazzo. Monsieur Amagne…”

Luzo waved her away and said. “Close the door, it is fine.”

Carlo remained watchful, circling as he eyed the interloper. Monsieur Amagne was a banker, short, dressed in ill-fitting clothes, spectacled and with a mug similar to a weasel. Carlo disliked him instantly. “You dare burst in to this office to interrupt a private meeting?” Carlo snarled.

The banker examined the stocky younger male. His hair was as black as shoe polish. There was a healthy gloss to his tan skin, attributable to youth. Ruggedly handsome, he supposed even with the healed cuts near his eyebrow. He had the physique of an iron worker and the arrogance of a street urchin. The sizable hands with visible scars on the knuckles had Monsieur Amagne wondering if he was a participant in the bouts held at the L’Chapelle Hotel in Sauvignon
which Luzo funded. Despite the man’s intimidating size and bulk, Monsieur Amagne doubted he would dare touch the son of a prominent Member of Parliament. “Do you know who I am monsieur?” he asked and then barreled out his chest in a fashion of someone filled with hot air.

“Pompous.”

Luzo smirked. “Carlo, we will speak again. I believe Monsieur Pompous has urgent business, oui?”

Carlo frowned. He nearly called Luzo, fratello. “I will wait outside.” His eyes squint at the banker. “Mind your manners Monsieur
Do You Know Who I Am
.”

The banker’s incredulous expression as Carlo exited brought a huff of disgust at Luzo’s choice of friends. When the door shut he frowned. “Who was that?”

“The question is what natural disaster brings you rushing through my door?”