Chapter Thirteen
“Giovanni?”
He opened his eyes. Mira laid close, her arms around him and her face tilted up to stare up at him. How long had he slept? The room was still dark, but the drapes were drawn. “Yes?”
“Catalina’s wedding is soon. She says today you’ll have your family here.”
“Mmhm.”
“I know you have traditions, family traditions that you believe in. I just…”
He sat up a bit and tugged her up into his arms. “What is it?”
“Catalina. Have you ever asked her if she understands marriage? The commitment she is making?”
Giovanni chuckled. “You’re worried about my sister and her wedding? I thought something was wrong.”
Mira drew away from his embrace. “She thinks it’s a big party. Her party. But I don’t think she understands what happens when the party is over. She’s about to be married, and she’s only eighteen. I remember when I left Virginia at seventeen, and how confused I was at eighteen. I think you should talk to her and be sure she knows what she is doing.”
“You talk to her.”
“What?”
“You’re a woman. She needs a mother. Talk to her.”
“That’s not what…”
“Come here.” He brought her down to his chest. He kissed her forehead. “My sister is young and spoiled but she is marrying a boy who will love and cherish her. I made sure of it. This is the life she wants. Trust me.”
“If you say so.”
****
“Fabiana? What’s wrong?” Mira walked into the sunroom. She had escaped there to be alone with her thoughts and the tears came expectantly. At the sound of Mira’s voice she turned from her and tried to wipe her tears away to keep the anguish from her friend. Regret squeezed her heart as she thought of the lies she’d told. How could she confide her worry now, without revealing her part in the scheme to keep them in this house of lies and secrets?
Last night was a disaster. After pacing the room waiting for Lorenzo’s return he was thrown inside, severely beaten. Panicked she fled the room and demanded they help him, call for medical assistance. The man she faced in the hall issued a chilling warning. Keep him out of the Don’s sight or we will return to finish him.
Fabiana spent the night nursing the bruises and wiping away the blood. She pleaded with him when he was conscious to leave with her, to go to a hospital. Instead he told her the entire story. His confession would haunt her for the rest of her life. Who he was, what he’d done, and the secrets he carried that would end his life if ever breathed them to another soul.
“Hey, talk to me? What is it? Something happen?” Mira forced her to face her. “I was looking for you and they said you were in here. Where’s Lorenzo?”
“Recovering.”
“Recovering?”
Fabiana sat. “He’s been hurt.”
“How?”
If she told her the truth, it would make her as guilty. She thought she was helping the man, but all she was doing was burying them deeper in this place. She had to get a grip. “I think he got into a fight. I don’t know.”
“Fight?” Mira drew away. “Is he okay?”
“He is now.”
“I’ll tell Giovanni and he—”
“No! Don’t say anything.”
Mira sighed. “Why do I get the feeling that you aren’t telling me everything?”
“Because I’m not. He’s in trouble and I can’t talk to you about it. These men, they’re impossible to understand. You know what I mean.”
She paced the floor. “I’ve heard enough. I don’t know what happened to Lorenzo, and I don’t want to know. I’m concerned about you, us, the way we’ve pretty much lost control of our lives. I don’t think we should stay here much longer, Fabiana.”
“It’s barely been two weeks. We’re on vacation.” Fabiana said.
“Are you kidding me? This isn’t a vacation. Not for me anymore. It’s a seduction, and it’s working. You, Lorenzo, Giovanni, and I are caught up in this… I don’t know what to call it. The man says he loves me. You look terrified, and I know it’s connected to him. What am I to think?”
Fabiana’s head dropped and she shook it sadly. “It’s all my fault.”
“Nonsense. We agreed to come here.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do. That’s why we need to step back and get some perspective.”
The anxiety she carried since Giovanni said he loved her left her struggling to find the words. She realized she too had fallen in love, and her judgment felt impaired. The violence and secrecy in this family wasn’t as appealing as her new lover’s touch. They needed to regain focus.
“Think about it. We have the fashion debut of my career, and I haven’t done any more press-ops or met with our investors. I know we said a vacation, but we’re here now. And my store doesn’t have anything to do with it. We’re here because we’ve become distracted with feelings for these men. It’s too much too soon. I can’t help but feel out of focus.”
Fabiana nodded. “I feel it too.”
“Good! Thank God! I thought I was losing it or something.”
“No.” Fabiana smiled, “We are out of synch. I’ve let things get out of hand.” Again Fabiana avoided looking her in the eye. “Let’s help Catalina with the wedding and then I will make some calls. We can fly out to New York next week.”
“Okay. Okay.” Mira nodded. “I’ll explain it to Giovanni. You do the same with Lorenzo.”
Fabiana embraced her, and Mira felt a bit at ease. “Is he okay? You said he was hurt?”
“He’s better. I just came down here to get my head clear.”
“C’mon let’s find Catalina.”
“That’s right!” Fabiana forced a smile. “I want to see this serenade.”
Together they walked in silent contemplation to Catalina’s room. Mira was curious about Fabiana’s news that Lorenzo had been in a fight. She kept the questions to herself. When they entered Catalina’s room, they found her at the window. She looked back with tears in her eyes smiling then signaled for them to move closer. Mira and Fabiana eased in behind her and became enchanted by the heartfelt song bellowing out of the young man who played the guitar himself. Beyond him were 12 other members of his family watching proudly. Mira found him relatively attractive. Maybe not as charismatic as Dominic but not the ogre that Catalina described him to be.
Signora Clara and three other ladies were present, one of which was Zia from the vineyard. The old woman wore a blue dress, her silver hair pinned neatly behind her head. She stared intensely and didn’t speak. When the song was done, the girls clapped and the family below cheered.
“Ciao!” A beautiful woman said, stepping to Mira’s left. She was almost Catalina’s twin. “I’m Aurora, Catalina’s cousin.”
“Ciao.” Mira said shaking her hand.
Signora Clara announced something in Italian and the women lit up with smiles and applause. Catalina spun in her dress, smiling brightly at them.
“She said it’s time to meet the guests. It’s Catalina’s day.” Aurora translated. “She’ll be more of a spoiled brat than usual.” Aurora chuckled, but Mira detected a hint of envy in the tone. “You’re that designer. Mira Ellison. I saw your fashion show on the TV. I speak English really well.”
“You do. And nice to meet you.” Mira said.
Catalina's eyes cut over to Mira and Aurora. They narrowed on her cousin, as if she had taken away her favorite toy. She marched over and tugged Mira away. “These are my aunts Zia Tadea and Zia Pagna. This is also my Zia Carlotta.” Mira nodded to the women and smiled at Zia who forced a smile in return. “Oh and that’s Aurora my cousin.” Catalina said dryly.
Signora Clara again spoke in Italian and the women nodded in agreement. Fabiana answered the woman and sneered. Whatever was said the tension in the room raised a notch.
Thankfully everyone began to walk out. Mira caught Catalina’s hand and delayed her. Fabiana closed the door, getting the message that they needed to be alone. “It was very lovely, the serenade. He’s a charming guy.”
“Franco is excited. He wrote me a letter.” She went to her dresser and got the letter. “My zia gave it to me this morning. Really sweet.”
“I want to talk to you honey.”
Catalina nodded.
“I spoke to your brother.”
Catalina’s smile faded from her lips. “Why?”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him about Dominic.”
“Shhh!” Catalina gasped, her eyes switching to the door. She pulled the drawer open on the dresser. “There’s nothing to tell. We said we wouldn’t discuss this anymore!” Catalina slammed the dresser door shut.
“Yesterday when you helped me with your dress I saw how talented you are. Really talented. Maybe you could go to fashion school. Learn a bit about designing.”
“Me? Really?”
“Sure. There are schools in Milan and New York.”
“School?” Catalina frowned.
Mira nodded, “I will be between New York and Milan. My store might not open in Naples. You can do your apprenticeship with me. I think it would be a great way for you to come into your own.”
“Franco will not want his new wife going off to school.”
“That’s why I spoke to your brother…”
Catalina’s eyes stretched with alarm. “You didn’t tell Giovanni this?”
“No. I just suggested he talk to you. To hear what you want.”
“Why? Why won’t you listen? Stay out of it!” Catalina snapped.
Mira blinked at her, shocked. “I’m just trying to help.”
“Giovanni is not stupid. You keep meddling he will catch on. Stop interfering. It’s not your damn business. You aren’t my mother!!” Catalina shouted at her, her eyes glistening with tears.
“Catalina? I’m sorry.”
“I am marrying Franco and that’s it!” she stormed out of the room and slammed the door.
****
The place was beautiful. Mira found the lower level decorated in yellow and blue flowers and trimmed in ribbons. The floors shined. Light poured in from every angle, and no door was closed. So many people moved about she recognized no one. In the left corner of the foyer was a string quartet playing a romantic melody that welcomed the guests and family members as they poured through the door. Mira glanced up to the top of the stairs, wondering where Giovanni was.
She decided to go to the outside terrace and try to locate a friendly face. Then a touch came to her hand. Her head turned. “Morning beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. His voice was just one of the things she loved about him. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong presence envelope her, she smiled to herself once again.
Giovanni ran his hand across her lower tummy slowly then to her hip, turning her in his arms. She opened her eyes to see him dressed, shaven, and looking strikingly handsome. She also sensed the open stares of people. Some stopped their conversations to watch them.
“I think we have an audience,” she said about to lower her arms. He drew her even tighter into his embrace and kissed her softly on the lips. Mira’s eyes stretched. She felt her cheeks flame with a blush, but she didn’t turn away.
“This is Catalina’s day. Let’s not be a distraction.” She lowered her arms and gently pushed free of his hold. He glanced up and those staring looked away or walked off.
“You’re right. But you are mine, and I don’t care who knows it.”
A woman approached. Mira noticed her first. Tall, with dark flowing hair that feathered away from her pretty face. She had clear grey eyes and the body of a model, with a pair of perfect shaped breasts over a petite waist, curvy hips, and long slender legs. Her eyes locked with Mira’s. With dark hair, and olive skin, she wore a tightly fitted green skirt and matching silk blouse.
“Gio, ciao, bello,” she said in a seductively low voice. Mira waited for him to react, for him to give her the customary kiss on both of her cheeks as he did the others present. He didn’t. He glanced down at her and his face became a frozen mask of non-expression. The woman extended her hand to Mira. “Hello, I’m Gabriella.”
“I’m Mira, pleased to meet you.”
“Yes! Mira Ellison. I know who you are. I love your work.”
“Thank you.”
Gabriella glanced up at Giovanni who continued to stare at her. “You have a lovely home. After all these years, I finally get to see the great Battaglia place.”
The way he stared at the woman only made the awkwardness more unbearable.
“It was nice to meet you, Mira.” Gabriella said and moved on.
“Who was she?”
“No one. Andiamo.” They walked out toward the open terrace where most were gathered. Mira glanced back to see the woman glaring after them. The polite smile had completely drained from her face. Giovanni introduced her to family members. A barrage of uncles and aunts from Palermo, distant cousins that were considered family all smiled politely and most spoke to her in Italian. She struggled to communicate so he translated. The shock and curiosity in their eyes was hard to miss. Apparently Giovanni wasn’t one to parade any woman around them, let alone a black American woman. Giovanni either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care because he led her from one group to the next, making introductions. Mira was reminded of what he shared with her in regards to his mother and the way she was treated in Palermo while pregnant with him. Eve must have felt like she was all alone in the world.
She recovered in time to see Rocco and Zia Carlotta stepping up into view. The old man had abandoned his overalls for jeans and a pressed plaid shirt, his curly silver hair framing his wrinkled sun bleached skin.
“Ciao Bella.” Rocco kissed her left and right cheeks. Mira drew back in time to avoid a kiss to the lips. The conversation was brief. Mira didn’t feel the frost from Zia she had felt upstairs. She was sure the woman couldn’t decide on whether she liked Mira or not. And soon Giovanni was distracted from his little game of meet and greet. Men in his family constantly approached. Several kissed his ring. She tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but see the mixture of fear and respect in several of their faces.
Rocco and Zia Carlotta left Mira to stand at Giovanni’s side. Her gaze drifted across the room, and she saw Fabiana in a corner talking to Lorenzo. The swelling to Lorenzo’s jaw and eye was ghastly. How he managed to smile at Fabiana and the other guests with all the bruising was beyond her.
“Bella, Prego. Have something to eat. I’ll come find you.” Giovanni kissed her hand and walked off.
Alone. She glanced around and found herself again being stared at from every corner of the room. She walked toward the buffet. Fruit, pastries, and sliced meats and cheese were arranged in a colorful display. All she wanted was coffee.
“Looks great doesn’t it?” A soft voice drifted through to the left of her.
Mira looked over to the woman she’d noticed earlier sipping on cappuccino. Gabriella had a thick accent but spoke English well enough.
“Yes, it does.”
They remained next to each other in shared uncomfortable silence. “The place is decorated beautifully. I’ve never actually been inside Melanzana. You know how Giovanni is about bringing women here.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’ve stayed here for the past week, by his request of course.”
“Ah yes!” Gabriella exclaimed. “He brought you here to design the wedding dress. I heard all about it.”
Mira cut her eyes and didn’t bother responding. She knew Gabriella was fishing for something, and she had no intention of giving it to her.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Italia?” she pressed. “How long are you here? In Italia I mean.”
“For as long as he likes.” Mira smirked. “Excuse me.”
“Of course.”
Mira walked straight for Fabiana and Lorenzo.
“Hi!” Fabiana said.
“Lorenzo. How are you?”
He chuckled. “I’ve had better days.”
Fabiana touched his arm. “He’s much better than he looks.”
“What happened?”
Lorenzo sipped his juice and placed it back on the table. “I fell. Clumsy in this big ole place in the dark.” Mira glanced to Fabiana who pleaded with her eyes to drop it. She looked away. Giovanni was with Catalina now. He had her in his arms laughing. She considered Catalina’s secret. Her fear that Giovanni would kill his surrogate brother if their affair was ever revealed seemed like a real danger.
Catalina held his hand. They walked across the lawn toward the garden path. Two tents were erected for the family but most crowded the terrace. He glanced once more to Mira who sat at a table with Fabiana and Lorenzo. He had the boys teach Lorenzo a lesson but forgot to remind them not to make it so damn obvious by pounding on his face. The Minettis were present. He could see Franco with his brothers laughing and talking. Franco wasn’t allowed to speak to his bride, so they were kept separated, heavily monitored by Signora Clara, but Giovanni could see Catalina and Franco exchanging shy smiles and glancing to each other often. His father had chosen well. Franco would be a good husband for his sister.
“How are you Catalina?” Giovanni asked her during the stroll.
“A little nervous.” She rested her head in the crook of his arm, sliding her arm around his waist.
“I want to talk to you.” Giovanni began. He stopped and turned her to face him. “You know I love you. La mia principessa.”
“I love you too, Giovanni. You have taken such good care of me since Mama and Papa died. I’m happy.”
The love he had for her consumed him. She was his mother’s daughter. Had her beauty, and spirit. She made his ache for his sweet Mama lessen each day. He could never let her go, and he spoiled her rotten to ensure her love for him remained unchanged. “Are you sure you’re ready for this step?”
Catalina nodded. “I trust you Giovanni, I understand why Papa wanted me to marry Franco. He’s nice and I like him. This is what I want.” She rose on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
Giovanni stared at her in amazement. His kid sister was a woman now. He saw it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. She was barely a teen when they lost their parents. Other than Zia, Catalina had no women in the family really willing to take her in and teach her tradition and their ways. Yet she bloomed into the belladonna that she was supposed to be, and he couldn’t’ be more happy. He had at least got one thing right, protecting and preserving her innocence, keeping her untouched from his world.
“Do you know that Mama and Papa would be so proud of you?” He touched her cheek.
“Yes, I do, and Papa would be proud of you too, Giovanni. You have taken care of us all, and I know it mustn’t have been easy. Now it's time for you to take care of yourself. After I’m gone, I want you to start a family of your own. You love her, don’t you?” she asked.
Giovanni looked past her to the dining area and thought of Mira. Looking back into his sister’s eyes, “I believe I do.”
“She’s great. A little pushy, but I think she’s great.” Catalina chuckled.
“Enough about me. Today is your day. It’s time I give you your wedding gift,” he said. “I’ve also spoken to Franco, and he has accepted on your behalf.”
Catalina grinned. “What is it?”
“My gift to you and him is your own villa here in Sorrento, plus your dowry will provide for him to expand his father’s bottling business in Napoli. You won’t be going to Palermo.”
Catalina leapt at him, and he caught her in his arms. She hugged his neck tightly. “Grazie amore di I esso!”
Giovanni lowered her to the ground. “I couldn’t let you go to Palermo if you wanted so desperately to stay.” He kissed her on her cheeks. Yes, he indeed did this for selfish reasons. His anxiety lessened at the thought of keeping his sweet Catalina near, so he could protect her always.
“I am so happy!” she wept. “Does Lorenzo know? Did you tell him?”
“He knows.”
“I must see him. I love you both so much!”
Before he could stop her she bolted for the terrace. Giovanni walked behind her. She found Lorenzo seated with the ladies and plopped into his lap. Hugging and squealing, it took a moment before she noticed how he winced, and the bruises on his face. Giovanni approached as she removed Lorenzo’s sunglasses from his face. “Who did this?” Catalina shouted.
“It’s nothing.” Lorenzo said.
Catalina rose from his lap. She whirled on her brother with her bottom lip trembling. A hush fell over those gathered. “Did you see what they’ve done to him? Do you see? You punish who ever hurt him, Giovanni. You punish them good!” she said angrily.
“That’s enough, Catalina.” Zia marched over and took her by the hand. She shot Lorenzo and Giovanni a withering glare before dragging a weeping Catalina away.
“Drama Queen! That’s what we called her as a bambina,” Lorenzo chuckled and the men all laughed. Mira stared at Giovanni, and he made a point to not return her stare. Lorenzo rose.
Lorenzo kissed Fabiana. Without a word he walked off the terrace and Giovanni followed, as they circled the building they fell in step with each other. It was his cousin who spoke first.
“How can we get past this?”
“I don’t trust you.” Giovanni said. “I haven’t heard one single reason from you why I should.”
“I’m your blood, your brother.”
“You’re a fucking stain. The only reason why you’re still breathing is out of respect for our fathers. Don’t push me Lo, because I’m not stupid. It makes no sense that you would become Giuseppe’s pawn against my wishes. He either has something on you or you’re guilty of more than you confessed. I struggle with how to not cut your lying tongue from your mouth with every breath you take.” Giovanni stopped. They were far enough from earshot.
“I fucked this up royally. I’m done with the lies Gio. I’m standing here exposed. I respect you, the family, the honor we share. Enemies are circling. Angelo Calderone wants blood, and the Nigerians aren’t going to sit back and be bystanders. You need to trust me again. I will earn it. But don’t cut off my balls. I am the last of your blood. La vostra famiglia. Flavio is not! He will never love you like I do, protect you as I would. You can’t shut me out. Not when we are destined for war.”
Shaking his head sadly in response to Giovanni’s silence he looked away, “It can’t come to this.”
“It has. After the wedding I want you out of my sight. Domi will work with you to see my plans through. But you and I, our brotherhood, it’s done.”
Lorenzo smirked. “So I report to Domi? He’s finally got to be at your side.”
“He’s more loyal than you’ve ever been. I can trust Domi. He may be the only man I can trust.”
“I have one request. I created this mess, and the men will not respect you if you just banish me. They will question your leadership. Let me get into the ranks with them and take out Calderone.”
He nodded in agreement.
Lorenzo turned and walked away. Giovanni released a deep burdened sigh and headed in the opposite direction.
****
The breakfast went off with much celebration, and Giovanni gave a toast welcoming the Minettis into the family, assuring them that this union will make them all stronger. He saw little of his Bella. When he inquired he was told by Zia that she was upstairs working on the dress for the wedding. Soon the gathering of men drew him away. For the next three days he spent the morning and evenings dealing with family matters, and no time with her. When he arrived at night, he’d stand near the bed and watch her sleep in the dark. He would watch the way she exhaled her sweet breath and her chest rose and fell, to the delicate expansion of her small nostrils when she inhaled. Beauty, unmatched by any woman he’d ever dared to share his heart with.
In the mornings Flavio would be at his side reminding him of his responsibilities. He wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Tonight his return had him aching to see her, talk to her. He only now understood how dependent he’d become on her.
Giovanni was disappointed to find her gone from the room they shared. For a brief moment panic settled in his gut, and he feared she’d left him and returned to her life. After all, he couldn’t possibly think closing her store and moving her things upstairs would bind her to him. She could wake and walk away from him, and he’d be powerless to prevent it. To his relief, she hadn’t done so. His men informed him that she worked on the dress still. He headed to the third level in search of her.
And it was true. She had turned that boarded off section of his home into a little design factory. Fabric rolls, shears, sewing machines and other instruments he couldn’t name were all inside. Giovanni found her standing in front of the dress mannequin. It wore the most beautiful of gowns. He watched silently as she continued with hand stitches to the beaded bodice at the front of the dress. She had only one lamp on next to her, casting her in what looked like candle light. At her feet were cut pieces of cloth and a bag of beads she plucked from.
Tonight she’d chosen a red spaghetti strap slip dress that stopped mid-thigh, and was made out of a stretch material which flattered her figure. Gone were the wrap around dresses he loved. Still this one was just as sexy to him.
The sewing needle dropped. She bent at the waist to pick it up and the skirt rose, revealing more of her thighs, and her ass became a rounded sculpture of perfection.
“Amore mio.”
Words he thought he said in his head were actually spoken aloud. Mira shot up right with a startled cry and looked behind her. “You’re back?”
“I’m back.”
“Three days, and I barely see you. Now you’re back?”
He felt a pang of regret. “Forgive me.”
She narrowed her eyes on him, and he entered with a sly smile. “Is that Catalina’s wedding gown?” he asked approvingly.
Her anger melted on her soft features and the light of love he found in her eyes gleamed like amber colored jewels. In fact he could see her swell with pride as she stepped aside so he could see the dress in all its glory. His bella was talented, far more talented than he ever gave her credit for. The dress was stunning. “Do you like it?” Mira asked.
“Bellissima,”
Mira turned to the table next to him and picked up the veil. “I know you may not approve of the low neckline but I did make the veil long enough according to your customs to block her from view. I even cut it the edges as instructed for good luck, per Signora Clara,” she smiled.
“I appreciate it, Bella.” He accepted the veil from her hand, moved closer to her, and placed it back over to her left on the table.
Mira tried to gauge if he was drunk, upset, or anything else to account for the reason she hadn’t seen or spoken much to him in the past two days. He directed his blue eyes back to hers. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He reached and touched her neck then allowed his fingers to trace the curve as it connected to her shoulder, stopping at the thin strap of the dress holding her bosom up. He eased a finger under the strap and lowered it. Mira looked to her shoulder to see it slip off then back to his eyes. She said nothing but her heartbeat quickened from the look of wild, unbridled lust in his blue eyes. “I hated not seeing you these past few days.” He admitted.
“Me too.” She confessed.
He took a step toward her.
“Did you miss me?” he asked softly.
“Of course. Our time together isn’t long. Before you disappeared I wanted to talk to tell you my news.”
“Tell me now.”
“I have to return to New York, then possibly Milan. After the wedding.”
He put his finger to her lips silencing her. “That’s not the news I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that you decided on us, to be mine.” Using his other hand he hooked another finger to the other strap, drawing it off her shoulder and her right breast was exposed to the nipple. Giovanni’s brow arched. He assisted in peeling the fabric downward over the swell of her breast. She didn’t wear underwear. She had showered, put on the dress and come upstairs to finish her work.
“Cara, you are never far from my thoughts. Forgive me for disappearing, I wanted to be here. Don’t leave to punish me.”
“I’m not. It’s business, can’t you understand that?”
He lowered his face to her neck, running his tongue over her vein that delicately pulsed underneath her silky skin, and she tilted her head back welcoming him. Sliding his hand down her backside, he cupped her buttocks pushing her into him. Mira wrapped her right leg around his waist, feeling his strong muscular thigh press in on her achy core.
“I need to be inside you.” His hands gripped her hips. She lowered her leg and tugged, yanking the dress down her curves, causing it to drift down to her feet. Again their eyes met. He advanced on her until she walked back and bumped up against the cool glass of the seal of the window. A slight shiver crept over her skin. Mira realized she was nude, and ever so vulnerable to him. She was angry dammit. He had disappeared for days and she missed him terribly. All she was left with was the highly emotional Catalina, and Fabiana who had become secretive and distracted. The wedding planning had been a stressful ordeal with her and Fabiana fumbling over offending one person of the Battaglia family then the other. And he barely blinked at her announcement of leaving. Did he not believe her, or just not care?
His forehead dropped on hers and his hands rubbed up and down her hips before lifting her to the windowsill, and only part of her rested on the edge. The kiss was soft and gentle. On command her thighs parted, and her hand sought the buckle to his belt. His lips caressed hers, her chin, her neck and then her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. With her back pressed to the window she could barely get his zipper down. Her actions and his became a bit desperate, and she freed him into her shaky hands, stroking his engorged length.
“Put me inside of you.” He said in a gruff, almost desperate voice, but she kept stroking. Giovanni’s head dropped back from pure pleasure. The tendons and muscles in his neck became profound and his jaw rigid with restraint. Again his cock felt like velvet over steel in her hands. She guided him to her core. Giovanni forced her legs up with both arms, and they hooked around at odd angles before he delivered a powerful thrust and entered her.
Mira steadied her breathing, listening as his became more ragged. He pushed his way deeper with thrusts strong and sure, while his piercing blue eyes once again focused on her before he parted her legs even wider and lowered them to admire their coupling. “Yes.” she exclaimed, thrust after thrust, her head smacking the windowpane. She writhed against him. He remained fully dressed with his pants still drawn up. She clawed at his shoulders and her nails scraped down the silk threads of his shirt. Her thighs began to quiver and she could feel the tickle of his silky pubic hairs against her clit, drawing out the orgasm she wanted to hold back on. He showed her no mercy, rotating his hips and screwing her to the bitter end. He sucked at her neck so hard she winced. “Don’t! Don’t…leave a mark.” She pleaded. She couldn’t be paraded around his family with the love bites on display. It was hard enough to not take the constant stares and whispers when she entered a room personally.
Ignoring her he pushed both her thighs back until her knees almost touched the windowpane and pounded his own needs into her. The intensity of his lovemaking had her fearing they’d burst through the glass as it rattled from his forceful demands, pinning her against it. Her cries for mercy increased and so did his grunting, and ragged breathing in her ear, before he covered her mouth with a deep kiss, his tongue lashing across hers. He went on for so long she marveled at his strength and self-control. His sweat dampened body had his shirt sticking to him and his face glistening with moisture.
Again his head dropped back, and together they both shuddered hard, teetering on the verge of an explosive climax. Just when she thought she could stand no more Mira felt the rush of his seed as he erupted inside of her, flowing and coating her womb with his love. He let go of her thighs, which she lowered gratefully. He withdrew and the separation tore at her heart. How much more of this could she stand? She eased off the window and avoided the satisfaction in his smirk. She found her dress and slipped it on immediately, ignoring the sticky drip of their mingled sex wetting her inner thighs.
“Bella, wait…”
Grabbing her robe, she went for the door fast. She didn’t want to hear his seductive words and submit like some love starved twit, and she couldn’t catch her breath to explain how consumed she was with him now. She just didn’t care to hear any more reasoning from him as to why they fit. He caught her halfway in the hall and forced her to turn around and face him. “Wait a damn minute. I want to talk to you.”
“No!” she knocked his hands away. He grabbed her by the elbows forcing her arms up and her body to remain still.
“I’m sorry for staying away. I know I invited you here, and we were to spend time together, but it couldn’t be helped.”
“Doesn’t matter. I want to finish her dress, and then I’m leaving. And fucking me senseless won’t change it.”
He blinked, shocked by her abrupt manner, and then his eyes narrowed on her, tinged with rage. She didn’t dare break his stare; he had to know he couldn’t treat her like his whores. Her visit was his privilege not his right, dammit. She had a life that she’d repeatedly ignored since the day he discovered her bracelet and put it into her hands.
“Am I that bad you would speak to me like this?”
“I can’t help it. I told you in Bellagio that I didn’t like being ignored. If you had to go then would it have killed you to say goodbye? Instead of leaving me waiting for you night after night in the bed alone?”
“I said goodnight to you every night.” He grunted.
She blinked confused. “You did not…” her voice trailed off. She thought one night she felt him in the room, felt his strong fingers brush her jaw. But when she woke she thought it was a dream. “I agreed to this arrangement without thinking it through.”
“Because my every motive must be dissected.” He scoffed.
“No. Because of me. My needs. I didn’t agree to how empty I feel when you and I are apart. The way I feel about us is changing me, clouding my judgment. I missed you.”
He let go of her arms and stepped back, his gaze softening. Unable to stand it any longer, she turned and walked away.
Lorenzo reached for his phone. Fabiana’s arm dropped from him, but her sweet warm body curled up close. “What is it?”
“Your car, Boss,” Carmine said in the receiver. “We got a repair truck to take it in and have it tuned. Did you request it?”
“Yea. Yea. Let them take it. Tell them to have it back after the wedding.”
He dropped the phone and fell back on the pillows. He spent the past three insufferable days kept away from family business. His only salvation had been Fabiana. He turned his head and looked at her. She slept like an angel. Lorenzo drew her close to him. After the wedding, he’d leave Melanzana. If Giovanni didn’t want him around, why stay? He had a condo in Sorrento where she and he could spend every morning and night under the covers.
The idea of it made his loins hard with lust. He rolled his beautiful Fabiana to her back and her long lashes fluttered open. She touched his face.
“Thank you Cara, for being here, for not turning from me when I told you… my truth.”
He kissed her and her legs parted allowing him the pleasure to sink between her warm silky thighs. A single thrust drew his cock into such unbelievable warm tightness he shuddered. Everywhere she was soft, and curvy, and he buried his face in her scarlet red hair thrusting his devotion and love into her. She was his. The only good thing he had left. He would hold on tighter to her to keep his sanity.
****
Mira opened her eyes. Giovanni lay wrapped around her with the sheets tangled around his waist. He joined her in bed and though things remained tense between them they made love again. Nothing, not even her confused heart, could stop her body from responding when he touched her. And the man would not be denied.
“Still mad at me?” his hoarse voice croaked.
“I need to get up. It’s morning, and today is your sister’s big day.”
“The day doesn’t start until I say so,” he said lifting and turning to his side. She looked away, and he drew her face back by her chin. “I am sorry that I wasted three days of our time together. Sorry I disappointed you. Coming home to you, it’s how I want it. Don’t go.”
“I have to Giovanni.”
“Then promise me you’ll come back?”
She glanced at him. His request wasn’t about her leaving his bed, but her leaving him. Despite her determined will not to, she smiled and he smiled. “I promise.”
“Vabene,” he kissed her again. “So the dress is done? And my sister gets married today.”
“She does. How do you feel about it?”
He put his arm behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. “Proud.”
Mira hated the secret she carried. After three days with Catalina and no evidence of her straying toward her surrogate step-brother, she was convinced the young girl had intended to marry and fulfill her role as wife to her new husband. Whatever past she shared with Dominic was done. So she kept her mouth shut.
“I have to shower. I need to be upstairs for her fitting.”
He glanced over. “When do you plan to leave for New York?”
“In a few days. Fabiana’s arranging it.”
He rolled onto her. “I’m going to miss you.” He said, and she dropped back on the pillow. Giovanni eased down and under the covers forcing her thighs to part. His face went to her center, and she gasped loudly once his tongue pierced and thrust deeply. She dropped her hand on the top of his head covered by the sheet and thrust her pelvis upward. Pleasure rolled through her body like an electric tide, and she rolled her ass, enjoying the soft licks and nibbles he put down there. Maybe she could delay it a bit longer.
****
Mira knocked twice before sticking her head in to check on Catalina. She found her asleep in her bed. “Morning,” she whispered.
Catalina sat up.
“Today is your wedding day. How do you feel?”
“Excited,” Catalina stretched up out of the covers.
“I need you to come upstairs with me so I can fit you for your dress.”
The light of joy in Catalina’s face made Mira smile as well.
“My brother here?”
“He is.”
“You know he loves you.”
The statement hit her hard. Just a week ago Catalina rolled her eyes every time Giovanni touched Mira’s hand. Now she sat in the middle of the bed grinning at her.
“Where did you get that from?” Mira gave a nervous chuckle.
“He’s told you, hasn’t he? That’s how our men are. When they feel it, they say it.”
“Catalina…”
Throwing back the covers Catalina escaped the bed and approached her in her long cotton gown; Mira took note of the serious look on her face. “I know my brother. I saw how disappointed you were the past few days when he was gone. Don’t punish him for not being here. I can’t explain it other than to say, you have to understand that he does this sometimes. It’s about who he is.”
“We’re friends Catalina, and I do understand.”
“No. You’re more than that now. He introduced you to our family.” Catalina’s eye stretched. “Do you understand what it took for him to do that? What it means?”
“Let’s go try on the dress.” Mira turned for the door, but Catalina got in front of her again. “He can be a stubborn man I know, but he really is a good person, a kind person too. Giovanni does a lot of good things. Don’t you let anyone tell you different. He takes care of families, and he… he gives to the church, and he takes care of Lorenzo and me even when we disappoint him. He’s a good man. He deserves… someone to take care of him. I will have my husband and home of my own soon. He’ll be in this house with these men, and no one…” Her voice choked with emotion. “He’ll be alone.”
“This is between your brother and me. Our future is for us to decide, don’t worry over it.” Mira stroked her arm.
Catalina studied her for a moment. “It’s none of my business, but you must know that my brother is a catch. All the girls want him. You met Gabriella didn’t you? I saw her talk to you. She’s his ex, the only one he kept returning to. We all thought he would eventually marry her. And maybe Giovanni did too, until he met you.”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“He dated her for three years and never brought her into our home. She attended family events outside of Sorrento with him, and she took me shopping in Paris. We went to New York together. He has given her gifts and…”
“Stop. It’s none of my business.”
“Bullshit!” Catalina snapped. “It is your business. These women will dig their nails into him and fight you hard to be at his side. You must stand firm in your feelings for him if it’s what you want. Gabriella is spitting mad. My brother dismissed her in front of her family. Three years and she’s done everything to win his heart, for nothing. He meets you for a few days and he brings you here to meet our family and me. He cares deeply for you. He sent a message. I think you’re the only one here that doesn’t know it.”
Mira sighed. She threw her hands up. “What do you want me to say?”
“If you decide to be his girlfriend you do it with the kind of loyalty and devotion that changes how you love a man like Gio. Don’t judge him harshly, and don’t make him feel guilty for who he is. You become part of this life. Don’t make him think you will be his if you don’t intend to stay. Giovanni deserves to be happy, and if you don’t want to be the one to do it, then let him know now.”
Mira opened her mouth to speak and Catalina hugged her. “He really is happier now with you. I see it. He’s a good man.”
She hugged her tightly. “I believe you.”
A few knocks before the door opened and Giovanni looked up to see Lorenzo enter. He paused from drying his hair, a towel around his waist. He stared at his cousin. The bruises over his face hadn’t healed; in fact they’d darkened to purple and yellowish swelling around both eyes.
“What is it?”
“Welcome home.”
“I’m in no mood. Leave.”
“Gio. I haven’t heard a word in three days. I know something is going on. How bad is it?” Lorenzo closed the door.
“Where’s Giuseppe’s body?” Giovanni asked. The question stopped Lorenzo in his tracks. “Answer me.”
“Bellagio, I drove it out of the Denelli place deep into the hamlets near the cliffs. I buried him and abandoned his car. No one will find the body.”
Giovanni tossed the towel. “The old man doesn’t believe his son is dead. He continues to order his men to search. Angelo however, called a meeting of several families and I was not invited. It’s only a matter of time before he strikes. Without the body surfacing, I’m not sure who will align with him. I am certain that Angelo believes it to be you that killed Giuseppe.”
“Then send me back to Bellagio. Fuck it, I can face Angelo. I can draw them away from the family.”
“How selfless of you.” Giovanni shook his head. “I’ve had to deal with the Nigerians. They’ve interceded with our deal with the Irish. Our guns are gone. Do you understand the ramifications of your actions now? The longer I delay the guns being delivered to Sicily the more incompetent we appear.” Giovanni tossed the damp towel and glared. “You will stay the fuck out of my sight until after the wedding. I don’t want or need your help.”
Lorenzo wiped his hand down his jaw. “You can’t always do it alone, Gio. You have to trust someone.”
Giovanni gestured with a flick of his hand under his chin to fuck off. Lorenzo stormed out. Pacing he tried to calm himself. The guns gone, the Nigerians demanding a new deal. Things were falling apart. And he felt powerless to stop it.
The Wedding
Putting down the comb, she inspected herself in the mirror. She’d chosen to wear a green dress that wrapped sweetly around her curves and crossed over her ample bosom. She made it for the wedding, for him. Cut from a special silk fabric it flowed to the floor and parted with a tasteful split when she walked. Her hair had to be worn straight. She had no time to curl it after working out the thickness, so she trimmed her bangs and made sure they measured evenly across her brow and framed her face like that of an Egyptian goddess. Putting on the 2 ct. diamond earrings in each ear, she then reached for her jewelry box and removed the matching solitaire necklace on a thin platinum chain to put on her neck. Just then she heard the door open and looked up in the mirror to see who stepped inside.
Giovanni appeared wearing his black and white tux. His dark hair was groomed away from his face and his blue eyes had a clear crystal blue hue to them under long thick lashes. She smiled at his reflection in her mirror. The man in a tux was breathtaking. Together they made quite a pair.
Struggling to put her necklace on she communicated with her eyes, beckoning him to come closer.
“Let me help, Bella.” He stepped behind her, and his fingers brushed her hands. Mira allowed it. Once done he scooped her hair in his hands and lifted her long mane to reveal her neck and back. “You know I love to see you in this dress, and this color,” he said, gazing down at her backside. “Will you ride with me to the wedding?” he asked. “It’s what I want.”
She glanced up at him in the mirror. “I intended to.” She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You look devastatingly handsome too.” A kiss brushed her lips from his, and she relaxed against his body. “Maybe you can come to New York with me?” she said.
Giovanni held her. “Come with you?”
“Yes. I have some business to attend to, and I can show you the city, the way you showed me Italy. I…” Mira bit on her bottom lip. “I don’t know how long it will take before my return, and I’d miss you terribly while I’m gone.”
“Then stay.”
“Giovanni.”
“You can conduct business here. Call in the people you need. Haven’t I brought your dress making materials here?”
Mira chuckled. “I’m a business woman, a successful designer. My business is more than cutting fabric. Don’t be so stubborn. When was the last time you took a vacation? Come with me Giovanni. Let’s discover what this is between us.”
He ran his hands down her back, and she pressed in on his hard frame. “I already know what this is between us. Amore. I love you,” he whispered.
She offered him another kiss; it was deep and plunging. Capturing her breath and pushing back from their passion she panted. “I love you too.”
She felt him stiffen. He drew back and frowned down at her. Mira smirked and nodded that she felt the same.
“You sure? What about your time table?”
“When it’s love, it’s love.”
“Yes, Bella. I’ll visit New York. We’ll work it out.”
Mira felt the pressure in her chest lessen. She had to admit love this time wasn’t as stifling to her as it was with Kei. The passion between them was real.
“Andiamo.” He took her hand and led her from the bathroom. She barely had time to grab her faux emerald beaded clutch purse. They left in his chauffeured Mercedes limo. Sitting next to him, he kept running his hand over the soft feel of her skirt pushing the hem up so he could touch her inner thigh. She wore garter stockings, and when he discovered them, the lovely blue of his irises melted to a darker lustful color. Mira teased him with a wink and offered no resistance to his exploration, as she was used to him feeling her whenever they were alone. She listened as he spoke in Italian on the car phone installed in the back of the limo. Again she mentally vowed to learn Italian. The drive south of Sorrento wasn’t long. The chapel, according to Giovanni, was over five hundred years old. Regal and beautiful, she stared up at it in wonder.
Dominic walked down the front steps of the church when they left their cars. Men were everywhere. When Mira looked at Dominic, she found a dull sadness reflected in his brown eyes. Maybe it was her head, because she knew of his love for his surrogate sister, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the day would be a difficult one for him. He gave her a curt nod and addressed Giovanni. “Everyone’s inside Boss, I’ll hang back to make sure we have no trouble.”
“Nonsense Domi. It’s our girl. Our sister is marrying and you will be at my side to see her married.” Giovanni released Mira’s hand to kiss both of Dominic’s cheeks and embrace him in a brotherly fashion.
“If it’s okay with you, I'd rather make sure no one disturbs the service. It’s equally important, no?”
Giovanni frowned. Mira cleared her throat and ran her hand down his back. “We should get inside. You need to see Catalina before she walks down the aisle.”
Giovanni hesitated. “Something wrong I should know?”
“No, Gio. It’s her day, and I want it to be perfect.” Dominic forced a smile.
Giovanni patted his shoulder. He captured Mira’s hand and led her up the steps.
“You will join me up front.” Giovanni said to her as the doors opened and every face in the chapel turned to look upon them. There had to be over six to eight hundred people gathered. She froze. He pulled her hand, and she found the strength to walk inside. Catalina’s words surfaced. This was a commitment he too was making by walking her down the purple, carpeted aisle in front of his people. There was no turning back.
Mira spoke without moving her mouth. “Are you sure?”
“Of you?” he glanced to her. “One hundred percent.” He winked.
He led her to the front row, kissed her cheeks and then turned and headed back up the aisle. She exchanged a look with Fabiana who sat next to Lorenzo. Mira winced inwardly at the fading bruises to Lorenzo’s face. The organist softly played a hymn. Mira noticed Fabiana had chosen to wear the yellow pleated sundress she’d bought on their shopping spree in Como. She specifically picked out a teal blue strapless dress she designed for her last year for her to wear to the wedding. Fabiana tossed her red hair and winked at her. Mira rolled her eyes in mock disgust and chuckled to herself. She loved her best friend so much.
The organist changed to the traditional tune and Mira’s head lifted to see the priest appear from the front of the church draped in a long white robe with a gold cross stitched on either side of his lapel, holding a bible. He was followed by two other priests. The side door opened and Franco followed by his groomsmen appeared in single file formation. The wedding began without delay. She turned in her seat to watch the flower girls followed by the bridesmaids as the organist switched to a lovely melody. Mira nervously awaited the vision she’d seen this morning. Catalina was the most beautiful bride she’s ever dressed. The priest instructed for all to rise, and Mira moved a little forward to get a better view.
Giovanni appeared with his sister on his arm. Catalina’s veil completely shielded her face from view but, even covered, she captivated all in attendance. Mira beamed with pride at how beautiful the gown was that carved out the bride’s tiny waist, with the sparsely beaded corset and belled out skirt draping off her hips. The skirt wasn’t too poufy and the soft flowing material caused it to glide behind her in a long train that carried the same pattern. Mira had stitched delicate diamond cut patterns that could only be seen when the light caught it with each step she took. The dress, done in a satin silk blend from the hip down, gave her the elegant appearance of royalty.
When Giovanni delivered Catalina to the altar and put her hand in Franco’s, Mira swore from her close proximity that his eyes watered. The priest read from the bible, blessing the passing of Catalina to her new husband, and Giovanni took a seat at Mira’s side.
Franco lifted Catalina’s veil, smiling into his bride’s eyes. He held her hand leading her to the altar, kneeling in front of the nuptial bench to begin the matrimony sacrament. Mira took Giovanni’s hand as the ceremony progressed, and he looked over at her, smiling warmly. In the midst of the vows being exchanged before her, she digested her role as his woman.