The Twelve Vitali Ch. 21

"There's a lot of security here, even by our standards," Phil nodded his head toward the garden wall where the dark shape of a man was clearly outlined. "Want to know my theory about why we're all here together?"

"I do," Dante said from behind them, making Phil jump. "Chances are they all do," he said, indicating the rowdy men in the house playing cards and reliving misspent childhoods together. "You know we don't believe the dumbass act you put on anymore, right?" he challenged Phil.

"Lio never believed it. Fuck, I miss that guy, he'd know what to do with what my gut is telling me right now," Phil complained.

"Yeah, he was a bossy bastard," Matteo chuckled, "Until D. went dark and he had to become the good guy in their duo."

"Good times," Dante said with a roll of his eyes. "I miss him too, every day. It's nice at least one of you talks about it actually. People tend not to bring him up around me, but I like to know people remember and miss the belligerent bastard. Alright, tell me what's in your gut, and I'll have a go at telling you what to do with it."

"I was going to test it out on Matt, but since you're here now, and probably have some sort of sixth sense too," Phil licked his lips. Outside of his own close-knit family he hated pushing his own ideas and agenda onto others, but his gut was so twisted he needed to speak. "All us, including the ones who couldn't make it, have been named the next-generation leaders. What are the odds of that? I mean, Josh, my brother, your brothers, none of them had holiday camps like we had to endure every year. There is something bigger than us going on at the moment, and I think I've worked it out."

"The seconds all had a camp, Ben went off to meet with them all the time," D. said.

"One or two of them even led with our friends, but not in my family, or yours, and, well... Matt is complicated, he's a second, but he was never treated like one, Jacobi was part of that second's group," Phil sighed.

"Only when he got older, and only because he forced his way into that group by befriending a few of them. He never grew up with them the way we did," Matteo considered what Phil was saying.

"Okay, and I'm sure Josh had a group of friends too, but the fact is every single one of us, our group of friends, leads. I imagine we were all destined to be Oracles until the mothers had different ideas about who they married. You heard the guys this afternoon talking about the mothers, you know it's probably true."

"Alright, I'll go along with that. I was being pushed to Oracle until I threatened to walk away. It's odd that all of us lead, I give you that too. Something bigger than us, that's where I need more convincing information," Matteo said.

"Okay, each time a family moved to name its new table, whether the old one was ready to retire or whether they were just circumventing what almost happened to the Donatis', there was some sort of event, if not attack. Most of the families hushed it up because no one wants to be seen as weak or vulnerable to the others. No one couldn't hush up what happened to the Donatis', but the other families have all made wholesale changes to the way they do business," Phil tried to explain. "The attacks have generally happened after the announcement, so they knew who to target. I don't think Rick had appendicitis, I think something big is going down with the Papillo and we have all been moved out of the way as insurance."

"So, Nate was right, we are here because we're leaders, but you think there's something else. You think the Papillo was attacked already and this is the thirteens reaction? To get us all out of the country?" Dante asked.

"Okay, let's say I go with you on this; that something happened to the Papillo the day we all left in a hurry. Roberto had a ready-made excuse to send me, one that I wouldn't question. How did your father get you to pack up for these fun few days?" Matteo challenged Phil's thinking, and Dante considered his conversation with Josh.

"There's a hacktivist group who've been data mining in a few of our flagship businesses for personal details and such. We traced them to a company in Indonesia, I think a few of the tables are having similar issues, and meeting you here was a jumping point. If I tagged along to Timor, then I'd be close enough to make contact with some of our suppliers and leave a watch behind in the country legitimately," Phil admitted.

"Similar concerns, but no data mining yet, our tech is a wizard when it comes to that stuff, especially after the attack when we lost all the servers. It's a pain in the ass to jump through all his hoops for access, but worth it if we're contending with hackers," Dante said. "The plan to get us all to come meet you before the wedding and announcement of the table was a good one, given that probably everyone up there has his own agenda for being here."

"Secret's and lies!" Matteo spat. "The thing I love most about Cat is she is honest, regardless of the consequences. I think our fathers have done us all a favour without even knowing it. I think it's time we stopped all the bullshit and laid everything out on the table. If they've compromised the Papillo there are bigger things at stake than our businesses," he looked at Dante. "Have you heard of the Ghost Town?"

"Rumour, legend, myth type of stuff. The Papillo has a hidden underground facility where the secrets of the Twelve go to die," Dante nodded.

"It's real. I went there when Cat was at your gathering doing that painting," Matteo said with a sad sigh. "If the hackers have gotten into the Papillo system, we aren't the only ones in danger. I think we need some collective answers from everyone here tonight. I'm not saying Phil is right, it's only his gut, but I'm not willing to take that chance. His gut has never let us down before, but whether Phil is right or not, we need more concrete information, strong hot coffee for the guys and then a roundtable discussion."

Matteo immediately took charge of the situation. He'd have to tell Dante about Nik, but knowing how he felt about Peri, he knew that once Dante believed her in trouble he wouldn't be able to think of anything else.

"For what it's worth, I believe you, Phil," Matteo said as they started back toward the house. "I'm going to call home and make sure everything is locked down. I'd also like to talk to Ben if I could, D."

"Emily?" Dante asked, considering his friend.

"I don't know for sure, I was hoping he would. I saw two dead people in Ghost Town, neither of them people I expected nor wanted to see. I'll tell you about it another time." Matteo said and walked back into the house.

*****

"I don't know what you said to Theresa this afternoon, but she looked happier and more relaxed than I have seen her in months," Ricco said on the drive home after dinner.

"Just wedding stuff," Cat smiled softly. "She just wants the best for you and your siblings, like any mother, and we just bonded a little more over the wedding and Matt wanting the big traditional wedding, that's all."

"I somehow think there's more to it than that, but I'll let it go," Ricco chuckled. "But only because you both look so happy."

"I am happy," Cat admitted. "That doesn't mean it isn't weird and strange being part of this family with all your rules and traditions. Just that I am happy to be part of its weirdness."

"Have you ever meditated before?" he asked, abruptly changing the conversation.

"No, not really. I mean, I know about it, but everyone seems to do it differently, so I'm not sure I understand the how or why of it when some deep breaths and counting can calm you down just as easily," Cat shrugged.

"Breathing is a major part of proper meditation. I'd like to teach you, if you're willing," Ricco said tentatively.

"I guess," she frowned. "It's always good to learn a new skill. Is there a particular reason you'd like me to learn to meditate?"

"The Mastery I have with rope goes by many names, most commonly Shibari, but also, when eroticism and pleasure are involved, Kinbaku, though they are only two of the names given to different aspects of the skills," he began to explain.

"Like what you did last night?" She turned to look at him, truly interested in what he was saying.

"Last night was rushed and urgent and not at all what true Shibari is about," he smiled. "I had wanted you for so long that my desire and need drove my actions rather than the rope."

"I'm not sure I understand," Cat admitted, frowning.

"Shibari is considered an art form. It is not only about immobilising the subject, but also the aesthetic result of the rope, and it's application. The object is not only to bind, but to make the binding pleasing in the way an artwork is pleasing. Even a five-year-old can use paint on canvas, but only those with skill and knowledge can create an artwork worthy of a gallery or museum," he explained, glancing at her from time to time as she looked at him curiously. When she said nothing, he continued.

"For many Masters, myself included, we believe that we should seek to create stillness and serenity in the subject that allows for a state of detachment. This state is often reached through meditation, where they are absorbed in the sensation of being bound with intricate and tight designs of the rope to the exclusion of all else but what their Master wants them to feel. It can be a very deep connection when done properly," he said softly and reached out to take her hand momentarily. "Would you like to see my meditation retreat?" he asked.

"Yes, please," she smiled, imagining a cabin surrounded by trees and flowers. 'Wildflowers,' she corrected herself, and smiled remembering her early fantasies about the man beside her.

"How did you get into it? I mean, it doesn't sound like a typical choice for a master," she asked curiously.

As they drove, he talked about his trial and finding himself as a teenager. He had developed an interest in photography and had been introduced to the artwork of a Japanese Shibari Master. He travelled to Japan and did an internship over several of his breaks from university. He fell in love with the artform and the discipline it took to Master both himself and the ropes.

"This is my Uncle Salvatore's place. I have a space here, for meditation," he explained as he pulled up a circular drive in front of a club called Spanky's that was attached to a larger building at its rear. "Looks like Sebastian's here," Ricco said with a little surprise.

"Your cousin?" Cat asked as she stood from the car. She was a little disconcerted that his meditation space was not as private as she had thought it would be.

"Sure, Sal is my Uncle and Sebastian is his son," Ricco chuckled. "Makes sense if you think about."

"I haven't had time to get all the families' straight, give me a break," she laughed, opening her door to get out of the car.

"Why would you have a meditation space right next to a club?" she asked, suddenly nervous about how it might look walking into an obviously private club with Ricco.

"I don't," he shrugged, "But this was closer than taking you to the real space."

"I don't understand," she looked at him as he helped her out of the car and took her hand to walk towards the building. They skirted around to the side of the club and down a seemingly endless path to an impressively large door which swung open as they approached.

"Good evening, Master Enricco," The large man who opened door greeted him.

"Always so formal, Baron," Ricco grinned. "Who's home tonight?"

"The Master and his son are in the living room, if you'll follow me," Baron let the door swing shut behind them and abruptly turned around and walked into the living room.

"Ric!" Salvatore looked up in surprise as they entered the room before Baron could announce them by name. "And Catriona, so nice to see you again." He stood and came to kiss her cheek.

"Hi, Cat," Sebastian followed suit after greeting Ricco.

"I wanted to show Cat my studio, if that's okay," Ricco checked with his uncle. "I know you let a few of the Dom's practise in there. Is it free?"

"You're taking Cat to your studio?" Sebastian frowned. "Without Matt?"

"I just want to show her the art on the walls, not make her one," Ricco rolled his eyes.

"Wouldn't matter if you did," Salvatore grinned. "It's good to see a woman interested in the arts."

"Where's Zia?" Ricco looked around the room.

"Some emergency secret women's business with your Mama," he waved his hand.

Cat only half listened as she took in the room. She'd only met Salvatore once at the engagement party. He was a tall and impressive man, and his wife was just as imposing. They had an aura about them of power and privilege, and now she understood why. The artwork and the furnishings told of their lifestyle, and Cat was taken aback by the overt and lewd pictures of submissive men and women that decorated the walls of this room. It was as if she had stepped back in time into a wealthy men's club or high-class bordello complete with perfect nineteen twenties art deco design.

A young woman in one of the black and white sexy French maid costumes entered and offered the guests refreshments, which Ricco declined after a small shake of Cat's head. She realised Ricco was eager to leave for his studio and she hastily gathered her wits.

"It was so nice seeing you again," she smiled. "I'm sure we'll have more time to catch up during the gathering." She said as pleasantly as she could, and was grateful her voice sounded normal, despite the fact that her skin felt heated, and she was sure she was blushing slightly. "You'll probably have to come and show me how to work everything in the penthouse once we move in, hopefully, Friday, if Matt is back," she spoke directly to Sebastian.

"Sure, just give me a call, happy to help out anytime," he said easily, even though he was still giving Ricco a disapproving look.

"We'll let ourselves out when we're done," Rico said, raising his eyebrows first at Sebastian and then his Uncle. "Unless you feel the need to supervise me while I am here with my brother's fiancé?" He turned his look back to Sebastian.

"No need for that," Salvatore said, clapping Ricco on the shoulder. "It's obvious I need to educate my son in hospitality and good manners, even at his age," he chuckled and walked with them towards the door leading from the room.

"I didn't even think about seeing Bastian here tonight," Ricco said in a quiet, apologetic voice.

"Once he gets a clue he'll apologise. He loves Matt, you know," Salvatore chuckled. "He just has a problem using his head rather than his heart when it comes to people."

"Everyone does," Ricco laughed with his uncle. "Including me... us." He looked down at Cat and squeezed her hand. Ricco gave his Uncle a look of gratitude and walked her through a corridor to an elevator.

"My Uncle is the High Lord of the family, much like Romy Donati or Francesco Battaglia. This is a clinic and training facility for those wishing to gain a contract with one of our families," he explained as the slow elevator rose through the large building to the fourth and final floor. "Girls like your friend, Nymph, come here rather than make their way to Canberra, although sometimes we send them on. Sal has made this place more about the Kept than domestic help, though they do receive training here on occasion."

"That explains the living room," she said softly, still feeling the heat of embarrassment at seeing such an overt display of dominance and submission. "They are quite open about their lifestyle. Is your Aunt submissive? She didn't strike me as the type, but I only met her once."

"No!" Ricco laughed loudly. "They rule this place together, and she is far fiercer than Uncle Sal." He continued to laugh at the idea of his Aunt being submissive.

"It must have been weird for Sebastian to grow up here with all of this on show all the time," she said.

"They stayed in the nursery or the back of the house until they went to boarding school, and then spent holidays travelling or with family. I don't think they spent much time here until they were teenagers," Ricco said thoughtfully. "Sebastian and Matt went to school together, they're closer than most of the cousins, which is why I expect he helped Matt out with... so much in the penthouse," he stopped himself from mentioning the fantasy room Matteo had created for her.

"Oh, that makes sense, I guess," she nodded. They came to a large heavy looking wooden door which had a keypad lock. Ricco punched in a series of numbers, and the light above the keypad turned green and the door slid across into a pocket in the thick wall.

Lights flickered to life, bathing the room in a warm golden glow, and she walked into what she imagined a historical Japanese home might have looked like. The walls were covered with bamboo and rice paper screens of varying sizes. Panels of rice paper had been replaced by black and white or grey, with just a hint of colour photographs she acknowledged without looking at them closely as she took in the padded floor and the low furniture and cushions that sparsely decorated the space. The room was an exercise in simplicity, but, rather than feeling spartan or austere, it held a warm and calmness within its walls.

Ricco stood back allowing her to explore on her own, smiling as she found movable screens and bent to touch large soft looking cushions on the floor before taking time to study the photography on display. He remembered well the photographs and models that had led him along this path. They were almost landscapes in their beauty and proportion, but always a figure bound in stillness and serenity within that landscape drew the eye, and, in his case, arousal and pleasure. He had done his best to carve his own place among the Masters of this art form and had spent years perfecting his craft.

He knew a few of his pictures had found their way into the homes of the men he called friends and Masters both here and overseas. He was proud of what he could do, but Mastery took time and discipline, something Jacobi had lacked, and therefore didn't understand his fascination. He hoped, given the time, that Matteo might come to understand, although, of his younger brothers, only Zion had seemed interested enough in the art form to view this room during his trial, not knowing which Master it belonged to. It was rare that the Dominant alpha men of his family reached Mastery in any discipline after their trials, preferring to concentrate on dominating the business world and, in Jacobi's case, their family.

This place always brought out the stark differences between himself and his twin. They were close and had planned their future together from the youngest age, aspiring to be like their own fathers and share a life and a family. He had been committed to that vision, even when he had finally acknowledged he had remained passive for too long under Jacobi's demands. He had decided to make his own needs known with Matt from the earliest moments, and now, standing here in this place after so many months away, he knew Matt would accept, even praise his expression of art and try to understand it for him, just as Cat was trying to do now.

He walked to the screen Cat stood in front of and thought back to that day. He'd captured a winter landscape as dusk threatened to fall, the sun low on the horizon bathing the land in shadows and a single denuded tree, stark and dark against the dull muted glow in the grey sky. It was a lovely picture, just for the landscape, but, as you looked closer, you saw it. Not obvious at first, but with increasing awareness, a sturdy low main tree limb jutting out from the trunk several meters rising a few degrees from the horizon along its length. A beautiful naked woman, quite alive and well, but perfectly still, tranquil, serene even, hanging suspended, mirroring the limb less than half a meter above her. She is held in place by the beginnings of a rope cocoon as if a caterpillar had chosen that exact spot to sleep and transform.