Someone's fed your ego and you actually believe you're irresistible. I'll pass on dinner and any of your nasty ass dessert. Besides, I think you're ugly. You probably have more diseases than a male hooker."
“Cosa, American os don’t like tasty meat, perché?”
“Go to hell, you animal!” she spat and marched toward the house.
Alfonzo’s head drooped. He laughed so damn hard, his eyes watered.
Giuseppe sank in the seat with a snarl. "Ugly...did she call me ugly, fratellino?"
"I'm still on t he diseased male hooker line. Ah, man what a diss."
C HAPTER EIGHT
Alfonzo surveyed the land. There was a deed for this property among his father’s belongings. For years he didn’t have an interest in anything Luzo acquired. But when he revisited the chest, did some research and learned the property had belonged to an influential Italian-Jew killed in World War II and the enormous size, his curiosity piqued.
The property boasted 88.6 Italian tumoli. The land was covered by approximately 1000 lemon trees, 800 olive trees, some being 500 years old, 400 almond trees, 20 carob trees, numerous apricot, apple and orange trees, together with a number of fig, kaki, mulberry and plum trees.
Now that’s a lot of fruit.
On entering the gates to the left was a paddock. After a few meters further on the right was a long converted barn, which was renovated in to living quarters with large rooms and en suite bathrooms. The home was fully air-conditioned and had functioning fireplaces, ideal for a large family.
Continuing on the path, there is a small stream with lemon and fruit trees on both sides. Next to the olive trees there’s a well or travella as it’s called, which had yet to run dry.
Go further on and climb the hill, and absorb the spectacular views of a distance sea, with mountain landscapes all around. Looking back through the entrance, Alfonzo could see the two homes and the stables on the right with green roofs.
There is more to this property he had believed, a story hidden from inquisitive eyes. He stood there, waiting for Nico with a Roman shell structure in the backdrop w ith a three quarter finished infinity swimming pool beside a three room pool house.
Yes, there was a lot to this land, far more than he realized from simply blue-prints. There was history here, beneath the modern sub divisions overshadowing the quaint cottage.
Alf onzo sniffed a sweet smell. Dinner was being cooked somewhere in the distance. He thought of Selange waiting at home.
Then a singular figure came in to view. Why, he asked had Vincent died?
The determined gait, long and straight is the Nico stride.
A b earer of death; a tormented executioner, yet a savior and cousin walked his way.
“What’s up Nico?”
Nico halted. “Plenty.” He glanced around with disinterest and then spoke plainly. “Sophie has a boyfriend .”
“That’s not earth shattering.” Alfonzo replied looking Nico up and down, noticing the bruises to his face. “Did you have a fight with him?”
“We scuffled.”
“He must be one tough dude to leave marks on you. How old is this guy?”
“ Old enough.”
Alfonzo chuckled. “A senior gave you a run for your money. Primo, I think you’re losing your touch.”
“Shut up kid. I can still kick your ass.”
“Apparently, not anymore, you’re about ready for the retirement home, old man.”
Nico scowled. “Try me.”
“I’ll let you recuperate first. I wouldn’t want to fight someone with a handicap.”
“Yeah, bring it on.” The teasing ended with a sigh. “Giuseppe isn’t going to like this.”
“Giuseppe will accept his mom’s an adult.”
Nico shook his head in abject misery. “This guy is former Israeli Intelligence. He and Sophie were friends in the past. I met him when I was a teenager and during that time he dealt mainly in arms.”
“Wait, I thought you said he was in law enforcement.”
“Was, is the past tense. He was corrupt
“Cosa, American os don’t like tasty meat, perché?”
“Go to hell, you animal!” she spat and marched toward the house.
Alfonzo’s head drooped. He laughed so damn hard, his eyes watered.
Giuseppe sank in the seat with a snarl. "Ugly...did she call me ugly, fratellino?"
"I'm still on t he diseased male hooker line. Ah, man what a diss."
C HAPTER EIGHT
Alfonzo surveyed the land. There was a deed for this property among his father’s belongings. For years he didn’t have an interest in anything Luzo acquired. But when he revisited the chest, did some research and learned the property had belonged to an influential Italian-Jew killed in World War II and the enormous size, his curiosity piqued.
The property boasted 88.6 Italian tumoli. The land was covered by approximately 1000 lemon trees, 800 olive trees, some being 500 years old, 400 almond trees, 20 carob trees, numerous apricot, apple and orange trees, together with a number of fig, kaki, mulberry and plum trees.
Now that’s a lot of fruit.
On entering the gates to the left was a paddock. After a few meters further on the right was a long converted barn, which was renovated in to living quarters with large rooms and en suite bathrooms. The home was fully air-conditioned and had functioning fireplaces, ideal for a large family.
Continuing on the path, there is a small stream with lemon and fruit trees on both sides. Next to the olive trees there’s a well or travella as it’s called, which had yet to run dry.
Go further on and climb the hill, and absorb the spectacular views of a distance sea, with mountain landscapes all around. Looking back through the entrance, Alfonzo could see the two homes and the stables on the right with green roofs.
There is more to this property he had believed, a story hidden from inquisitive eyes. He stood there, waiting for Nico with a Roman shell structure in the backdrop w ith a three quarter finished infinity swimming pool beside a three room pool house.
Yes, there was a lot to this land, far more than he realized from simply blue-prints. There was history here, beneath the modern sub divisions overshadowing the quaint cottage.
Alf onzo sniffed a sweet smell. Dinner was being cooked somewhere in the distance. He thought of Selange waiting at home.
Then a singular figure came in to view. Why, he asked had Vincent died?
The determined gait, long and straight is the Nico stride.
A b earer of death; a tormented executioner, yet a savior and cousin walked his way.
“What’s up Nico?”
Nico halted. “Plenty.” He glanced around with disinterest and then spoke plainly. “Sophie has a boyfriend .”
“That’s not earth shattering.” Alfonzo replied looking Nico up and down, noticing the bruises to his face. “Did you have a fight with him?”
“We scuffled.”
“He must be one tough dude to leave marks on you. How old is this guy?”
“ Old enough.”
Alfonzo chuckled. “A senior gave you a run for your money. Primo, I think you’re losing your touch.”
“Shut up kid. I can still kick your ass.”
“Apparently, not anymore, you’re about ready for the retirement home, old man.”
Nico scowled. “Try me.”
“I’ll let you recuperate first. I wouldn’t want to fight someone with a handicap.”
“Yeah, bring it on.” The teasing ended with a sigh. “Giuseppe isn’t going to like this.”
“Giuseppe will accept his mom’s an adult.”
Nico shook his head in abject misery. “This guy is former Israeli Intelligence. He and Sophie were friends in the past. I met him when I was a teenager and during that time he dealt mainly in arms.”
“Wait, I thought you said he was in law enforcement.”
“Was, is the past tense. He was corrupt
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