La Famiglia

by Sienna Mynx

  Mira closed her eyes. “I’m so angry, so hurt. I’m afraid for him, for me.”

  “Afraid of what, Mira?” Fabiana asked.

  “That something is broken with us. Something I can’t fix. I’m afraid I can’t forgive him.” When Mira opened her eyes she was alone. She didn’t call for Fabiana. She didn’t need to. Fabiana was dead. In this she would remain alone with her sadness.

  The day had all but slipped away. When Giovanni entered his wife’s room twilight had cast shadows about. After concluding another visit with his sons he passed Lorenzo and Marietta in the hall as they were leaving. Marietta said there was no change.

  The doctor passed word to one of the nurses that he would meet with him once he finished his rounds. He had hope in his heart that maybe some news of improvement was forthcoming. But Mancini’s warnings kept surfacing to the front of his mind. Why hadn’t he considered the fact that her mother gave birth to twins? The medical history alone could have helped the doctors understand the care his Bella needed, or at the very least the risks.

  “Bella, I’ve visited the boys,” he said. He sat next to her bed and took her hand into both of his. He held it with gentle loving care. “They rest. They are doing well. Gianni and Gino, your sons.”

  She didn’t move. He brought her hand up to his mouth. He kissed her hand. The answering silence was the worst. Fatigue weighted his shoulders, his lids. He closed them and held her hand. “I won’t leave you, sweetheart. I’m here. Right here.”

  * B *

  “Catalina?” a soft voice whispered.

  Catalina lifted her head from her hand. She had dozed off in the chair. Rosetta appeared in a green dress she recognized. She glared at her cousin. Once again she had raided her closet without asking. “What are you doing here?” Catalina stretched her arms up from her seat. She chose to ignore Rosetta’s actions. The dire situation of the twins and Mira was more important than another theft of one of her dresses.

  “Lorenzo came home. He told me to come and sit with the babies. So you could go home. Eat something, shower.”

  “I’m fine, you can go.” Catalina stood. She walked over to Gino’s incubator. She stared down at his little chest that rose and fell with each breath he took. Rosetta ignored her order to leave.

  “He’s so small. I’ve never seen a baby this small.”

  “He’s premature you idiot,” Catalina hissed.

  “Don’t call me an idiot!” Rosetta snapped.

  “Shhh!” The nurse admonished them both. Catalina threw her hands up in defeat. She was tired. She’d been at the hospital for six hours. When she checked the time she found it was close to seven in the evening. She needed the reprieve. Maybe she could go and return before she was missed.

  “I’ll be back. Just need to shower and take a nap then I’m coming back.”

  Rosetta moved on to the other baby. She tapped the top of the incubator. “What’re their names?”

  “Don’t do that!” Catalina hissed. The nurse looked up with a disapproving scowl. Rosetta smiled down at the baby.

  “But they’re so cute. Like little dolls. Are they well? Why are their eyes taped shut?”

  Catalina stepped closer to Gino’s incubator and looked at him. “He’s the smallest. His name is Gino. He has a problem with his lungs. They both do. That baby is Gianni. They are giving them something, baking them in these ovens so they can grow I guess.”

  “Oh wow,” Rosetta said. She glanced over. “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?” Catalina rubbed the top of Gino’s incubator.

  “What made the Donna go crazy? Why she was brought here to have the babies?” Rosetta asked. Before Catalina could respond she continued. “Leo said he heard them before they left the room. That he tried to stop the Donna from going to Gio. But she was crying and upset.”

  “Heard what?” Catalina asked. “Heard who?”

  “They’re sisters!” Rosetta whispered.

  “Who?”

  “Lorenzo’s wife and the Donna.”

  Catalina laughed. “Bullshit!”

  “It’s true. Leo said that Lorenzo’s wife showed up in the Donna’s room and told her that they were sisters and that Gio and Lo knew. That’s why the Donna flipped out. She didn’t believe her. So she went to Gio and he admitted it. That’s when all hell broke out.”

  The news made no sense. But Catalina believed something happened, something so terrible that Mira would leave her bed and risk her health. Rosetta walked away from the babies and took a seat. Unable to say or do anything contrary Catalina stood there in complete disbelief.

  * B *

  Giovanni had no concept of time. For all he knew night could have passed with him sleeping by resting his head in his arms to the side of the bed.

  “Signor.”

  Giovanni managed to stand. He ignored the ache to his back. “She hasn’t wakened yet. Is she still in this forced sleep? The coma?”

  “Yes. We’ll bring her out of it after we run more tests. At that point it is up to her.” The doctor said.

  “But she had a stroke?” Giovanni asked.

  “She could very well come out of it. Depends on which part of the brain was most affected.”

  “And the worst case scenario?” Giovanni asked.

  The doctor’s gaze returned to his patient. “Worst case she doesn’t wake at all. Best case scenario will be impairment of her motor skills. Eating, dressing, and walking could all be affected. She would need rehabilitation. Since she has a family history of hypertension we have been really careful to avoid this outcome, signor, I assure you. I believe—”

  “What do you mean her family history? I never told you her family had a history of hypertension.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Ah, your wife did, signor.”

  Giovanni narrowed his line of vision on the doctor. He weighed the response for truth and it came up weak. The man went silent. He sweated profusely. “There’s more to her family history. Her mother had a stroke when she gave birth. It took her four days to recover.”

  The doctor nodded. “As I said, we’ve done everything we can. We have to run more tests and then we may learn more.”

  Giovanni leaned over Mira and kissed her brow. “Be strong, sweetheart. I need you to be strong.”

  * B *

  Marietta stepped under the pour and the warm pellets of water splashed, soothed, and relaxed her weary body. She felt drained, hollow, and lifeless. She didn’t care if she drowned under the tide. There was so much of the day she wished to rinse down the drain.

  The image of her sister’s agony as she left her bed and tore through her room looking for the baby bracelet that matched Marietta’s necklace seared her mind. The sobs from Mira when Marietta put the jewelry side by side for Mira to inspect should have stopped her. Why hadn’t she stopped? Marietta stepped under the shower and turned her face up to the spray. Water filled her nostrils, pooled over her closed lids and rained down her face.

  “Beautiful,” Lorenzo said.

  Her head whipped right and she opened her eyes in time to see Lorenzo step inside naked. She turned on him, surprised by his arrival. They had agreed she needed space. “Not now. I want to be alone. Get out, Lo,” she pointed to the door.

  He ignored her protest. “I want to be with you,” he touched her face. She crossed her arms over her breasts as his gaze raked lower over her body. She was not going to have sex with him. She refused to even consider it after all that he had done.

  “Do I have to go?” Lorenzo pouted. “You’re my wife. We need to comfort each other.”

  She laughed. “You’re so selfish, Lorenzo.”

  “When it comes to you, I am selfish,” he said with quiet emphasis. “I will never let anyone come between us, take you from me. Ever.”

  Deep down inside Marietta was glad he insisted. She needed someone to show that they cared. She needed him. She was afraid of her guilt. What her self loathing would make her do next.

  Lorenzo reach
ed for the soap. “Turn,” he said.

  She obeyed and closed her eyes. He lathered his hands with the bar of soap. The touch of his calloused palms as they rubbed down her back was better than any loofah sponge she could use. Marietta slowly lowered her arms. She then lifted her hands and pressed them to the wall. She leaned forward to rinse the soap from her skin.

  He touched her. Lorenzo pressed his finger against the dimple in her lower back just above her ass. He ran his hands around and then up her stomach to her breasts. He pinched each nipple and pressed his rigid, stiff cock between her buttocks. Marietta’s lids fluttered upon contact. She opened her mouth to deny him the privilege but nothing escaped. Lorenzo brushed his lips over her shoulder and the head of his cock nudged deeper. Her eyelids slipped down. He said something to her in Italian. Her mind was too weak to formulate the translation.

  “I control your pleasure,” he said in English. “And your pain.”

  Marietta exhaled as he thrust into her. Her nails scraped the damp tiles of the shower. The spray soaked them both. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. He lifted his chest off her back and withdrew before slamming into her. He fucked her hard and her body shook with the thrusts. “Sweet pussy,” he wheezed. “You’re mine,” he repeated. She’d ponder the reason for the proclamation. Did he suspect what she had done with Carlo? Did he know how divided her heart was now? If it weren’t for the pleasure she’d focus on the pain and uncover the answer.

  Her world narrowed down to sensations and not just emotion. His cock twitched, expanded, slammed in and out of her cunt with a rhythmic urgency that sent hot currents of undiluted pleasure through her pussy. Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes once more. Wave after wave of pleasure went from the tips of her fingers to the bottoms of her feet. He continued to pound her sex but this time his free hand tickled her clit.

  Marietta screamed.

  All of her frustration and suffering released in her screams. She hollered until her voice went hoarse. She shook with the effort to stay upright, braced against the shower wall with her hands flat as he pumped his hips and she worked hers.

  A soft groan fell from his lips. He came over her once more, with his arm circling her waist. He licked the center of her spine. She believed he would truly fuck her into unconsciousness because his cock kept tunneling. The gyrations became harder and he thankfully shot his seed deep into her womb.

  Marietta gasped. She weakened to the point of collapse and wept. But he kept her up, stayed inside of her. “I have you.”

  She surrendered and the world felt right again. He released her, lathered her and himself while she did nothing but cry. He dried her, dressed her in nothing but a thin lace camisole after he ate her pussy while she was pinned up against the sink with her right foot resting on his shoulder. She wept. She smiled. She sobbed hard. When they left the bathroom she was stunned at how quickly he had cleaned the room to the best of his ability when she left him alone to shower. He’d even hung the sheer drape around the bed after she tore it off the rings. And under the covers he refused to stop holding her. Eventually she allowed herself to give him enough forgiveness to embrace him back. She rested on his chest. Lorenzo fired up his cigar and smoked. He blew smoke rings as he sat up against the headboard.

  “So he was my father?” she asked and wiped away the last of her tears.

  “He’s your father,” Lorenzo answered.

  Marietta stared into the darkness of her room. The burn of tobacco tickled her nose. She poked a finger through a ring of smoke Lorenzo puffed and it broke away into a curvy wave. “He looks sick,” she said. “Not what I… he isn’t what I expected.”

  “He’s dying,” Lorenzo answered.

  Marietta closed her eyes to the news. Of course he would be dying. Why she cared for the bastard who could give a shit about her or Mira was beyond her understanding. “He didn’t say a word to me. Not a word,” Marietta said.

  “He’s an evil man, Marietta.” Lorenzo said.

  “You all are,” she turned from his embrace.

  Lorenzo set his cigar aside. He eased on top of her. He pinned her wrists down and forced himself between her thighs. Out of instinct she wrapped her thighs around his and crossed her ankles over the back of his legs. “Yes, we are the tyranny of men. But I love you. I won’t let him or anyone hurt you. Ever.”

  “You already have, Lo. Don’t you understand that?” Marietta answered.

  “I’ll fix that,” he grinned.

  “Maybe. But something else will happen and we’ll be right here again. Hurting each other.”

  “No. No. We will get this right. You need to think about giving me a son. I want one,” he said. “And a little girl like Evie who sucks a red pacifier and sits with me in my meetings,” Lorenzo grinned.

  She stared up at him. He couldn’t possibly be serious. If she could have her ovaries removed she would. She just might. Kids were the last thing she wanted. She’d be a shitty mother. She’d never bring a child into this world to suffer the way she had.

  Lorenzo kissed her. Marietta turned her face away from the kiss. “Who was the man with him? The man that leaned on the wall?” she asked.

  Lorenzo peppered kisses along the column of her neck. “He’s your brother. His name is Armando.” Lorenzo groaned as he began to grind his pelvis against hers and stir life into his flaccid cock.

  “Lo, stop, listen to me.” She broke free of his hold on her wrist and pushed at his shoulders. “The maid. She works for him.”

  Her husband froze. He lifted and his gaze banished all traces of the desire it once carried. “What do you mean she works for him?”

  “I think she was trying to give Mira something to make her sick. I found her in the kitchen pouring out tea. She had a powdery substance in a baggie.”

  “Carmella? That’s bullshit,” Lorenzo moved off her.

  “I’m serious! I heard her on the phone. She was speaking in Italian. Talking to a man named Armando. She said she couldn’t go through with it. She was telling him stuff about Mira. I wasn’t sure at first. I shouldn’t have dismissed it. She could have hurt my sister and I said nothing. I’m so fucked up.”

  “Hey,” he caught her chin. “If what you say is true you did do something.” He pulled her back into his arms and she rested on his chest. “I’ll get to the bottom of it. Don’t worry.”

  * B *

  “Gio?” Catalina pushed the door open. She found her brother alone in Mira’s room. He looked up at her and forced a smile. “Where’s Mira, Gio?”

  “They’ve taken her for more tests. We should know something soon.”

  Catalina entered and was careful to close the door behind her. “Rosetta’s here. She will sit with the babies until I return.”

  “How are they?” he asked.

  “Alive. Getting stronger. You missed the feeding. They fed them through tubes, and the little ones ate up. So cute, so sad, Gio.”

  He nodded. “They will be stronger when Bella wakes.” Giovanni wiped his hand down his face. “She’ll feed them from her breast. We talked about it. She said it’s best for the babies.”

  Catalina stepped closer to her brother. She stroked the top of his head. “Gio?”

  “Yes,” he said refusing to look at her.

  “Is Lorenzo’s wife Mira’s sister?” Catalina asked.

  Giovanni closed his eyes. He didn’t respond.

  “Is she? Did you know? Did you keep it from Mira?” Catalina pressed.

  “Let’s not do this now,” Giovanni answered.

  “How could you do this to Mira?” Catalina asked.

  “I said not NOW!” He looked at her with such raw anger she knew it was the truth. For the life of her she couldn’t imagine her brother being that selfish, especially with Mira. He did everything in his power to constantly prove his love for her. Instead of questioning him she knelt before him on her knees.

  “Gio? Mira will forgive you. No matter what has happened she will forgive you. Bu
t you have to atone.” She reached up and touched her brother’s face. “We all make mistakes, we aren’t defined by them. That’s what you would tell me when I was a kid.”

  “I’m not a kid,” Giovanni chuckled bitterly.

  “No, but you are lost. When she wakes we do whatever it is to make it right.” Catalina rose from her kneel and hugged him. Her brother hugged her back from his chair. She felt his sadness when she held him to her heart. She wished their mother were alive. The only other woman who could help Gio see the good from the bad was her mother. But Madre was dead. So she would have to do the job. And she vowed to do just that.

  “Before I go I wanted to give you this.” She reached into her pocket and removed a pearl rosary. “It’s Mama’s. I brought it with me because I heard the twins were born too soon. I want you to pray. Do you hear me? Keep it with you and pray.”

  He took their mother’s rosary and kissed the cross. Catalina stroked the side of his face. She kissed his brow. “Nel nome del Padre, e del Figlio, e dello Spirito Santo. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Giovanni said.

  * B *

  “Avanti,” Mancini said.

  Armando opened the door to his father’s private reading room. He blinked in surprise to see Marsuvio drink his scotch and walk upright to the desk for another pour. The old man poured more than a swallow in his whiskey glass and turned with it raised. “Salute!” Marsuvio tossed back the scotch.

  It was as if the man had received a jolt of youth after their visit. The energy and drink was risky if not suicidal behavior considering the medication his father was on. “Who gave you that?” Armando demanded.

  “Shut the door.” Mancini replied with a broad smile.

  He did as he was told. His father set the whiskey glass over to the desk and then walked slow and steady to the reading chair in the room. “I just got off the phone with Buhari. They are running more tests. I was right! She did have a stroke like her mother. I was right all along!”

  “And this makes you happy?” Armando frowned.

  “No! It makes me right. I knew Gio was wrong for her. That he’d harm her. And this is proof.” Mancini’s smile broadened. “My daughter can see firsthand how dangerous and inept he is.”