Adversary by S. W. Frank

Author:S. W. Frank [Frank, S. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Crime, Mystery, Romance, International Mystery & Crime
Amazon: B00D09TPV8
Published: 2013-05-23T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

The meal was eaten in silence. Since coming home from Puerto Rico, Shanda was insufferably miserable. Perhaps, she remained angry he chastised her behavior without use of flattering words. She was to censure her mouth and respect his brother, finale!

Greens and poultry were pushed around the plate from the sullen woman who had yet to forgive a Don’s late arrival for dinner. Shanda read more into his actions than other women ever did. Giuseppe finished his Mediterranean Salad, washed the leaves down with hard liquor and made an excuse to leave. The mood had been soured and he saw no reason to continue with forced conversation with his bella who could not forgive. He had presented her with a painting of their family, a beautiful oil of colors that rivaled the masters on the ceilings of grand Cathedrals. Who knew Nico had such talent until Giuseppe visited and saw the works in his man-cave. “I want one!” Giuseppe had demanded in his usual tone and expected Nico to say no simply because the man was often disagreeable. Yet, the stranger Nico acquiesced and asked, “What would you like realism, impressionism, what?”

Ha, the questions were not for an ignorant lover of beauty and Giuseppe’s response was direct. “Who gives a fuck cugino? I only want a family portrait to hang in my home!” Then he removed a picture from his wallet and placed it beside the different brushes sitting vertically in a can.

Nico did not pick up the picture, instead he simply eyed it, smirked and lifted the beer to his mouth and it hovered there. “What an ugly family photo. Where was that taken, the mall?”

“Vaffanculo, obviously, you are jealous!”

Nico had gulped the brew and it sprayed the floor at Giuseppe’s asinine remark. “Me…jealous…of you…what have you smoked cugino?”

“Eh,” Giuseppe said picking up his precious photo and waving a ringed hand at the bastard who he liked and sometimes hated. He thought the agreeable Nico was far better than the insolent arrogant enforcer; however, separating the two was as impossible as ripping color from the skin. “Never-mind cazzo. Tell Ari grazie for the lunch and I hope she leaves you soon!”

Three weeks had elapsed since then and he’d forgotten about the conversation. Unimportant things were always secondary to business, of course, forgetting their dinner date was not because Shanda was unimportant but there were meetings throughout the day and evening. Being a diplomat with surly men was time-consuming. Many took advantage of his newfound fake patience and tested its authenticity. Ah, he failed each time. Giuseppe Dichenzo admitted he was not concerned about petty issues. Who had such conditioning to sit and listen to silly squabbles such as Don Stupido’s mistress offended my wife at the market or Don Asshole hasn’t paid his tab in a year? These were minor spats and those which mattered were the only ones Giuseppe cared to mediate. Turf wars, newcomers and upstarts are where his attention lay. Yet, his bella knew nothing of his real troubles nor did she care.

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