by Sienna Mynx
She marched toward the door. Catalina watched her with a raised brow. “You will never have what I have, Rosetta, unless you steal or copy it.” Catalina smiled. “But be my guest and try.”
Rosetta cast her a sly smile. “We shall see, piccoletta. We shall see.”
Catalina rolled her eyes. She’d been dealing with her cousin’s jealousy for years. She could care less. With a dismissive shrug she walked over to her closet to decide what she would wear for the day. She decided to never touch the Versace dress again.
* B *
Marietta faced the mirror—eye to eye with her reflection. She had worked tirelessly on her makeup and hair. Not in a gaudy fashion. Her lashes were extended and dark liner was evenly smoothed over her lids, which gave her smoldering appeal. She covered her lids with bronze shadow to add a natural look. She curled her hair with her curling irons and picked it out with her fingers. Her roots were frizzy and wavy thanks to life at sea, and it added to her natural curl pattern. She used a white rose plucked from the bouquet the dress shop sent her to pin up one side of her thick locks.
Pierced in her earlobes were the three carat solitaire diamonds Lorenzo bought her in Nice, France. When she turned her head left and right the sparkle was almost as bright as the one dazzling on her ring finger. And lastly she dabbed her lips with pink lipstick and overlaid it with a shimmering gloss. Marietta puckered, shook her locks, and pulled them out with her fingertips. She felt beautiful.
A dash of Shalimar behind her ears and between her breasts was her perfume of choice. She reached in her jewelry box and found her necklace. For a moment she paused and stared down at the gold engraving. This charm, which was once a baby’s bracelet, was the only thing she had from her mother. Wearing it today would make her feel like her real mother was there. Marietta put it around her neck and fastened it with a prideful smile.
“We’re ready,” Carlo beat his fist against the bathroom door. “Andiamo!”
She rolled her eyes. “Go away! I’m getting dressed.”
“We can’t wait all day,” Carlo said. “What’s the issue?”
“Oh shut up and go away!” she shouted back at him.
She heard him march off. Marietta would not be rushed. This was her day and for her this was the most important day of her life. She exhaled tension and fear of unworthiness from her lungs. A man like Lorenzo Battaglia didn’t marry just any woman. Hell he was rich, charismatic, and dangerous, therefore his choices had to be calculated and wise. And she knew from the sideways glances he received from women wherever they travelled he could have any woman he wanted. Lorenzo had chosen her for the same reasons she chosen him—love. For the first time in her life she truly felt loved.
Marietta thought of Gemma. If she hadn’t lost touch with Gemma, her godmother could have stood as her bridesmaid today. Though she doubted Gemma would be pleased to see her marrying a Battaglia.
“All done!” Marietta smiled. She sucked in another deep breath and exhaled slowly. Marietta opened the door and sashayed down the narrow hall of the lower deck. They would be married on his yacht. She didn’t care for exchanging her vows at church, and Lorenzo, although Catholic didn’t object. He had set sail a mile away from shore and anchored the boat for the ceremony. The women at the boutique delivered the Mirabella original with flowers she’d chosen for her bouquet and hair. She was all set. But her legs shook with each step she took. And she had to keep her breathing steady when she climbed the steps out to the back starboard of the yacht. Lorenzo wore a tux. Her sweetie looked so handsome. His brows lifted when he saw her. Marietta’s gaze volleyed over to Carlo who was dressed equally handsome. He stared at her in the way he always did. The only person who appeared to have a look of concern was the priest. Her dress had a low bust line and high hemline, which prompted the reaction.
She grinned.
Lorenzo stroked his chin. Mancini’s daughter had bloomed. Marietta was undeniably the most beautiful and complicated woman he’s ever loved. He loved the hard edge to her that didn’t lessen her femininity, but often distracted others from it. Exquisite and fragile she was special. Wispy curls fell around her lovely face, and spiral locks blew about in the wind. The rose in her puffy hair, the dress, and the soft smile on her lush pink lips made him humble, appreciative, and grateful. And the dress she wore was bold and daring just like her. His Marietta. She had branded his heart. No other woman except Fabiana could occupy it now.
“Bellisima! You take my breath away. Sei tutto per me—you are everything to me.” He approached. He lifted her chin. She looked up at him from under her long lashes. “Sposami—say you will marry me,” he whispered.
“I will marry you,” she said. “Sei il grande amore della mia vita—you are the love of my life,” she said to him.
The happiness in her teary eyes made him a believer. In that moment he knew that his mother was wrong. He too could have a destiny, one different than being second best. He understood what Giovanni found in Mira. Why Dominic risked his life to be with Catalina. She was indeed worth everything they faced in the future. He was marrying a Mancini. And he didn’t give a shit. Marietta was the most special woman he’d ever met.
“Ahem,” said Father Christian.
Lorenzo chuckled. Marietta smiled brighter. He took her by the hand and walked her the few steps over to the priest. The sea was calm and the boat steady. The wind however whipped up around them. Carlo found the priest for the occasion. A generous donation to his church enticed him to perform the ceremony. The man spoke no English, but luckily he did speak Italian. So they went through their ceremonial exchange of vows fully understanding what their commitment would mean. And he added a last one in English for her understanding.
“Marietta, you are mine now. Always. I will gut any man who tries to step between us.”
She nodded and grinned.
“Lorenzo, you are mine now. Forever. I will cut your balls if you ever try to cheat on me.”
He roared with laughter. Carlo chuckled. The priest stared at them confused. He forced them back into continuing their vows. It was an exchange of solemn promises to each other. Only death would part them now. When Marietta said I do, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Marietta squealed. She jumped at him and he spun her around on the deck, almost dropping her.
“I’m fucking married!” Marietta screamed out to the universe. She threw her bouquet into the sea. The Priest excused himself when the kissing and groping between the newlyweds became amorous. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her dress went so high the cheeks of her ass were uncovered. He cradled both butt cheeks in his hands. She locked her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
“We need to leave. Now.” Carlo grumbled and walked off.
Marietta released his tongue but she kissed his face. Smearing her pink lipstick all over it.
“Cara, stop, listen to me.” He grabbed her face, but held her. “We’re leaving for Sicily. You need to pack. We will take a flight later this evening.”
“Huh? Sicily? You want to honeymoon there?” she asked. She looked disappointed. Her legs dropped from around his waist and he let her ease down to her feet. Marietta tugged down the raised hem of her dress. The churn of the anchor being raised on the boat could be heard and he knew Carlo had set course for their return to shore.
“You’re my wife now. I want the family to know it,” Lorenzo explained.
“But I thought they were in Sorrento?” Marietta asked.
“No, cara, they are in Sicily, Mondello Beach. I can’t wait to introduce you as my wife.” His hand eased to her neck and his eyes fell upon the necklace. It was fine for her to wear it when they sailed through Europe, but she couldn’t walk through the doors of Villa Mare Blu with that necklace on.
“I thought the clasp was broken?” he asked. He touched the necklace.
Marietta looked down. “I had it fixed when we were in Paris. Remember? And don’t change the subject. I want a honeymoon, Lo. I mean it. Send Carlo away
and let it be just you and me. Please?”
“Senta,” he pinched her chin. “Don’t nag me. I’ve spent months giving you the honeymoon. Haven’t I? Haven’t I?”
She frowned. Her brows lowered and her gaze darkened with anger. Lorenzo smiled. “Have you ever seen Mondello Beach? They have grottos that mermaids use to sunbathe in. We can fuck on the sand.”
“I don’t want to fuck on the sand!” she protested.
“Marie! We can eat the best food you’ve ever tasted in your life. We’re family now. And that means you belong to the Battaglia clan.”
She rolled her eyes. “I only belong to you. To hell with the rest of them.”
Lorenzo shook his head. “That is not how it works, Marie. I’ve explained your life to you. Haven’t I?”
“Yes,” she pouted.
“Paradise is where I’m taking you, sweetheart. I will give you the best honeymoon of your life. I promise.”
“You better!” she hit his chest playfully.”
“Do me a favor? Wear this dress all day.” He bit her cheek. “Beautiful.”
Marietta eased her arms around his waist and then dropped her head on his chest. The boat surged forward and they swayed. They started to sail.
“I will make you happy, Marie, I swear it.”
“I know, Lo. I already am happy. The happiest bride on the planet.”
Lorenzo stared out at the sea, keeping her in his arms. He risked her life by taking her back to Sicily. He risked his reputation by marrying her. A Mancini? How the hell did he end up in love with a Mancini? Life was all about risks, and Marietta was one worth taking.
* B *
Catalina laughed. She dropped her head back and chuckled until tears formed behind her tightly shut eyelids and her cheeks and throat hurt. Eve shot past Catalina bottomless and ran for the terrace.
“Can you please bring her back?” Mira wheezed. Never in Catalina’s life had she seen a little girl so stubborn. Mira walked over to the edge of the bed and lowered to it. Catalina saw how tired her sister in-law looked and felt a pang of pity. She went for Eve. She scooped her up in her arms and carried the screaming toddler back into the room. The baby had the strength of Hercules. It was no wonder that Mira could barely keep up.
“Where is Cecilia?”
“She asked to go visit her family in Palermo. I gave her the day off. Nico volunteered to drive her.”
Catalina tossed Eve to the bed. Eve rolled over and giggled. Mira grabbed her daughter by the ankle and dragged her closer. Eve gripped the sheets pulling them with her.
“She has a little rash on her bum again,” Mira said. Catalina stepped over to see the red patches of raw skin. “That’s probably why she keeps stripping off her training panties,” Mira said.
“I thought she was trained to go to the toilette?” Catalina asked.
“We’ve had several accidents in the night. I’ve asked Cecilia to keep her on the diaper in the evenings. Can you go over to my cosmetic bag and get the Desitin?”
“Sure.” Catalina walked over to the luggage Mira had tucked in the corner. It looked like she hadn’t fully unpacked their things. She glanced back and saw Mira rubbing Eve’s little bottom as Eve lay still on the bed sucking her pacifier. Her niece was a heartbreaker and a master manipulator. As soon as Mira believed Eve was settled Catalina had no doubt Eve would run for her escape again.
“Mira? I spoke to Rosetta. She says you’ve been training her to be more than a seamstress. That you’ve groomed her to be a designer,” Catalina asked. She picked up a small black velvet jewelry box. Underneath she found the tiny tube of Desitin.
“Rosetta’s a good student, like you,” Mira said. She rubbed the raw spot on her little one’s butt cheek. “That feels better baby? Mama so sorry she didn’t know your bum hurt. I’ll make it all better I promise.”
Catalina brought over the Desitin. Mira opened the tube, put a dollop of the white cream on her fingertip and then smoothed it over Eve’s little bottom. Catalina walked away. She needed to be careful of her words. She didn’t want to sound petty or childish. Mira respected her. “I don’t think she’s ready for Milano.”
“Who?” Mira asked, clearly distracted.
“Rosetta. It’s so busy at Fabiana’s. I won’t have time to tutor her.”
“Of course you don’t have to tutor her. Did anyone have to tutor you?” Mira asked. She turned Eve over and started to pull on her training panties. “The best way to learn is to dive in. And she’s really excited about learning.”
“I bet she is,” Catalina mumbled. She walked back over to the vanity case. Again her attention was drawn to the velvet jewelry box. She picked it up. “I just think that the launch of Fabiana’s is going to be so difficult to manage the first few months, we need to be focused.”
“And we will be. Catalina, you and Rosetta are family, my family. And this is a family business. What she doesn’t know she’ll learn. If she makes mistakes you’ll help her fix it. I want you two to get along.”
Catalina sighed.
Mira continued, “The only way this works if we stick together. You have no idea how hard it is to force my husband to stand down.”
Catalina opened the jewelry box and stared at the beautiful gold child’s bracelet. In raised lettering it said Mirabella. “This is so cute.”
Mira helped Eve down from the bed. Her daughter backed away sucking on her pacifier. She blinked at her mother and began to once again pull down her training pants.
“No, Eve!” Mira said in a stern voice.
Eve pulled them all the way down and stepped out of them. She then headed back for the outside terrace. Catalina held the bracelet up. “Where did you get it, Mira?”
“Catch Eve!” Mira said.
Catalina sighed. She went after the toddler and dragged her back in. She slid the door shut to the terrace to keep her inside. “Where did you get the bracelet, Mira?”
“My mother gave it to me when I was a baby. The only thing I have from her,” Mira said. “Eve, pick up your training pants and bring them to mommy. Now!”
Eve walked over and did as she was told. She burst into tears as she returned to Mira to have her once again force them on. Catalina ignored them. She turned the bracelet over. She looked down in disbelief. A Del Stavio insignia could be clearly seen on the back of the gold plate.
“What is it?” Mira asked. “You look pale as a ghost.”
“Del Stavio? I think this is his work. No. It can’t be. Yes. Yes, I think it is,” Catalina said.
“Del who?” Mira walked over. Catalina showed Mira the insignia. “I think that’s his stamp. He put this insignia on all of his custom pieces.”
“Who is he?” Mira asked.
“A jeweler. Del Stavio was the jeweler to the Five Dons of Sicily. He made them family heirlooms. Children were given gifts at birth from him. Dominic told me about his work.”
Mira laughed. “Well then it’s not his stamp. My mother lived and died far from Sicily.” Mira took the bracelet and sighed. “I love and loathe this thing. Do you know it’s how your brother and I fell in love?”
“Really?” Catalina asked.
Mira smiled as if drifting on the memory. “When I arrived in Napoli my purse was snatched. I had this bracelet in it. I cried my eyes out for days over it. And when I met your brother I told him about the incident. In a matter of 24 hours he had the purse and bracelet returned to me.”
Catalina laughed. “Sounds like Gio was putting the moves on you.”
“Oh he put moves on me alright.” Mira grinned. She rubbed her belly to emphasize the point. They both shared a laugh.
“I don’t understand. Why do you loathe the bracelet?” Catalina asked.
“Because it’s a reminder of all that I never had with my mother. If she had this made for me she did it out of love. But I can barely remember her. Just her shadow sometimes when I close my eyes or dream. I can barely look at the bracelet without missing her. I think it’s time for me to
let that emptiness go.” Mira wiped at her tears. She laughed and cried. Catalina hugged her. When she released her she nodded she was okay. “Every little girl needs her mother. I was so afraid of being a bad mother I kept my distance from kids. And then I met your brother and look at me,” Mira chuckled.
“You are a wonderful mother,” Catalina said. “Look at you.”
Mira nodded as if she agreed but Catalina could see she remained unconvinced. Mira stared at the bracelet. “I can’t explain where the bracelet came from. For all I know she could have met this Del Stavio and had him make it.”
“No, that’s not possible. He’s a Sicilian jeweler. He wouldn’t make a bracelet like this for an American child. No matter who your mother was. Hell he only made a necklace for Dominic because of my father’s relationship with Mancini.”
Mira paused. “Who?”
“Mancini,” Catalina repeated.
“I know him.” Mira said.
“You know Mancini?” Catalina stepped back.
“Not personally.” Mira laughed. “He was an investor. He helped us lease a building in Napoli and obtain our work visas. Your brother was pissed. That’s how we met. Giovanni expected me to pay him to be in Mancini’s building. Claimed the building was his. Can you believe him? I told him to kiss my ass.” Mira whispered so Eve didn’t hear. “He took me up on my invitation.” She winked at Catalina.
“Wait a minute.” Catalina frowned, dismissing the joke. “How did you meet Mancini?”
“I didn’t. Teddy did. He came to Sicily for vacation. When he returned he was so excited. He called a meeting with Fabiana and me to pitch an idea. It was an idea that changed our lives forever. Strange, huh?”
Catalina didn’t believe in coincidences. And the history between her family and the Mancinis made the bracelet even more confusing. “Did Giovanni see the bracelet, Mira? The stamp on the back?”
Mira nodded. “Should I ask him about it.”
“No!” Catalina smiled. “No, it’s probably a coincidence. Let’s forget about it.”