by Sienna Mynx
“We make mistakes, Marie. It’s what we do, sweetheart,” Lorenzo said. His voice was steady and less winded. That had to be a sign he was gaining strength over his lethargic state of mind.
“You love me, even though I screw up.”
Lorenzo chuckled. “I love you because you screw up. My wife isn’t perfect, like me. Fuck being perfect.”
“What about being loyal? Fuck that too?”
Lorenzo didn’t answer.
“I put you in the most impossible of situations.”
“I did that. Not you Marie. I started this war long before we ever met.”
“Armando wants to use you. He wants to take down Giovanni now. He says Giovanni’s destroying him, and the Mafia...”
“Quiet Marie.”
Lorenzo’s gaze lifted to the left corner of the ceiling. Marietta’s head turned and looked at the camera pointed at them.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention to that.”
Lorenzo turned her face back to look into her eyes. He lifted his head and kissed her lips. “From here on out you let me do the talking.”
She hugged him. She whispered into his ear. “I’m scared, Lo. There is no one in the world to protect us. Is there?”
“I’m not dead yet. I will protect you. I will protect my family,” he whispered back.
Marietta hugged him tighter and pressed the side of her face to his.
“I need you to be strong, Marie. Stronger than you have ever had to be.” His voice went as low and quiet as a man like him could muster. “Tell Armando whatever he needs to hear. Say the words. Smile for him. Give me a little time and I will get us out of here. Okay? That’s the plan. But don't talk about what we lost, what we have to fight, what you've done. No more.”
“That’s the plan.” She agreed.
She eased out of his embrace to curl up next to him. The moment her head rested on his feverish chest, she drifted off to sleep. It was the first time she could truly rest her mind.
Chapter Six
The Sacrifice
Palermo, Sicilia
After the death of his father, Armando moved into the master bedroom. It suited him best. In particular, the nights when his mind and temper refused to let him sleep, solace could be found in this room. He picked up his wine glass and sipped the magenta fermented berry, allowing the flavor particles to roll over this taste buds. Nothing he planned or foresaw could have prepared him for the consequences of Giovanni's interference, and the greed of the brotherhood. Upon his return home from Paris he learned that Dominic had successfully infiltrated, bargained, and out-maneuvered him to gain a seat with the families. No one returned his calls. Two of his stores had been firebombed. And several of his men were ambushed, murdered, or chased out of territory he once owned. Bagheria, was now the Battaglias once more. Mondello, and Carini would be next to fall. Even with Giovanni on his back barely alive, he had power. The plan was take out Dominic. Destroy him. By taking down Dominic he weakened the heart and brain of Giovanni's operation. He'd not heard from Catalina. He had no idea if Catalina and Dominic survived his plot. The truth was he gambled and almost lost. That was until Marietta and Lorenzo fell into his lap. Even he couldn't foresee such a blessing.
There was a knock at the door.
Armando looked at his watch. It was after midnight. He was not to be disturbed.
“Come in,” he barked. After all he did have guests, a pregnant sister, and her wounded husband. There were bound to always be disturbances. The door opened. Ignacio stuck his head in.
“What do you want?” Armando asked.
“You need to come downstairs, Boss.”
“Why? What is it now?”
“You need to see this for yourself.”
Ignacio left. Armando sighed. With no other choice, he got up and set his wine glass down. He picked up his pajama pants and pulled them on over his boxers. He didn’t bother with a shirt. He eased on his silk robe and left his room. The chip on his shoulder grew with every step he took. He was tired and angry. He had no more patience. Whoever it was better have a damn good reason for arriving so late to his home. As he bounded down the stairs, he saw three of his men waiting for him. They all had strange looks on their faces. Ignacio was the only one among them with a sly grin of smug satisfaction.
“What the fuck is so important that you disturb me?” Armando demanded.
Ignacio pointed to the parlor. He walked off the step into the open room and paused. Standing before him with her purse and not much else, was Catalina Battaglia. Her dark hair was thinned by rain and humidity. It lay flat to her head. She wasn’t dressed in her usual fashionable manner. She wore a jean skirt and blue wrinkled blouse with flat sandals. No makeup. Nothing. Not even a pair of earrings. And she couldn’t appear more beautiful.
“Can I speak to you? Alone?” she asked in a voice void of the haughty confidence she was known for. Armando waved off his men. But a few of them lingered to get another look at her. He leveled a threatening look on his men. All of them retreated. Ignacio went with them.
“I know this is wrong. Me coming here. Unannounced.”
“I’m curious,” Armando said. “Are you okay? Have a seat.”
“No. I... ah, I don’t want to. I, ah, uhm. My brother... he’s been hurt. Shot. I need to know. Did you have anything to do with it?” she removed her gun from her purse. Armando nearly laughed. His fucking men were imbeciles. They let her walk right in and didn’t check her purse? He deserved to be shot for the idiocy.
She aimed the gun at him. “Did you do it?”
Armando smiled.
“Answer me!” she shouted. The gun shook in the grip of her trembling hands, and she used both of them to hold it.
“Would you believe me if I said no?” he answered.
She looked as if she would pull the trigger. Her hands went from shaky to steady. It was not the first time he’d had a gun pointed at him. Instead of fear or anger, he could only summon one emotion: disappointment. For the first time, he saw through his desire for her to what his actions may have cost her.
“Did you have anything to do with it?” she asked in a shaky voice.
He took a step toward her. She gripped the gun tighter.
“Have you ever been able to tell when a man is lying to you, Catalina? Because we are all men of lies, including your brother.”
The beauty stepped back with an angry scowl. She was insulted, then confused, then aware, and he saw it all play out over her face.
“I’ll ask a different question. Is there anything I can say to convince you I didn’t shoot him?” he asked.
She released the safety on the gun and the soft click was all he needed to know. Whether she believed or disbelieved, she was willing to die to avenge her brother. They didn’t make women this loyal anymore.
“If you pull that trigger, you die tonight. And it won't be quick. My men will take turns making sure you pay.”
“I’m already dead,” she replied.
“No. It just feels that way.”
“Shut up!”
“Why, piccoletta? Why come here for justice? When you really want redemption. To be saved from sin, you can’t commit another. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. I know what you’re running from.”
“Dominic is gone. My brother is dying. My family hates me. I’m nothing.”
“Not to me. To me you’re everything.”
“Stop trying to confuse me! Answer the damn question. Did you have anything to do with it?”
“Put the gun away.”
“Answer the question!”
Armando smiled.
“You tried to kill Giovanni and it's my fault. I will kill you and myself. That will be redemption. That will be justice.” She began to shake all over now. The tears kept flowing. She dropped her hand, crying. “Answer me! Just answer me! Do it! Say something!”
“You’re going to have to look inside your own family to find the devil. I didn’t shoot your brother.”
/>
“You’re a liar!”
“Then pull the trigger. Take your redemption. I’ll let you have it.”
Catalina went rigid. She pressed her lips together, continuing to hold the gun steady. Two of his men ran in with guns drawn. They shouted at her to drop the weapon. How they knew she had a gun on their boss, she wasn’t sure. And then she looked up to the small black camera in the corner of the room. It was trained on her.
Armando remained fearless. He wore dark silk pajama pants. The matching robe was open to reveal his muscular torso, and deeply olive tanned skin. He was tall like Giovanni and Lorenzo, and athletically built. But there were distinct differences. His hair was silky black and brushed his shoulders. He had dark assessing eyes, that pierced when focused on you. Since her arrival, every time she cried or shook with nervousness, he’d cock an eyebrow or the corner of his mouth would lift with sly amusement.
That infuriated her.
Here she stood with a gun to his face and he didn’t flinch. It was like he enjoyed it. This version of Don Armando was downright intimidating. Because the other versions never had this much control over her. She was alone in the devil’s den.
“Leave us,” he commanded.
“Boss?” one of the men spoke
“Leave us!” he demanded.
Catalina swung the gun to one man, then the next. When Armando spoke, she was reminded that he was the key target. The other men would take a bullet to protect him. So, she trained the gun on him once more.
Armando took a step toward her. “Stay back!”
“Non preoccuparti—don’t worry. Starai bene—you will be fine. Okay? I won’t move again.”
Catalina’s eyes closed. “I hate you. I hate you so much. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you!”
He could have disarmed her then. But instead he waited and let her process her fear, her grief. And then slow and steady she lifted the gun and put it to her head. “Tell my brother, I love him.”
Armando didn’t wait. He rushed her and grabbed her before the trigger was pulled. She never fired the shot. But she was startled enough to try to reclaim the gun. Armando struggled a bit before she was overpowered, and the weapon dropped. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Then he grabbed her lower jaw and chin with one hand. Not aware of his own strength, he squeezed tight and she hollered. He was too angry to let her go, to stop scaring her. Because she had scared the shit out of him by turning the gun on herself.
“Are you fucking insane? Are you? Don’t you ever try to hurt yourself! Ever!” he shouted as she fought to pull his hand down. “Ever!”
She wept. The anger popped like a bubble. He was hurting her. And she’d suffered enough already. He let go of her face and gathered her up into his arms, and held her. She was so weak and empty, she clung to him as she wept through her pain.
“Catalina, ti voglio tanto bene,” Armando kissed her tear stained cheek.
“Dominic hates me. He thinks I betrayed him. My brother is going to die. He hates me, and he’s going to die hating me. It’s all my fault. All of it. What’s wrong with me...?”
Armando let her go to hold her face. This time gently. “Open your eyes. Look at me. Please, cara, look at me.”
She did as he asked.
“Hate me. Not yourself. Destroy me. Not yourself. I did this. I set you up to take them all away. To have you. I took advantage. If you want, I’ll call Mirabella and confess this to her. I’ll tell Dominic. He’ll believe you. Eventually.”
She looked at him with disgust. The fiery spirit he loved surfaced like a heatwave between them, and she shoved him away from her. “You’re a fucking evil bastard! Do you not even care what you did to my life? What you made me do! What I have done!”
There she was. La piccoletta. The woman of steel who possessed more beauty than a freshly bloomed rose. This woman was a fighter, not his victim. She just needed to be reminded of that fact. He stared at her unrepentant. Catalina shook her head with disgust.
“Rot in hell.” She tried to head for the door. Armando's hand reached to bring her back. She knocked his touch away.
“Wait. You know what I am. I told you, I wanted you. I kissed you and I know you felt it. You went into this with your eyes open, cara. That's why you're here now. You need me.” He knelt and picked up her gun. He stared into her eyes and she took a step back. “I don’t care about you pointing a gun at me. I’ve had many pointed at me. But don’t you ever point one at yourself. Do you understand me?”
“Vaffanculo!” she said. “You lied to me from the start. You sent Giovanni pictures of me. You sent them! All of this was just a game to you. A way to hurt my brother and Domi. And I let you.” She shook her head with disgust and wiped away her tears. She started to leave. “Get out of my way.”
“I’m guilty. I won’t apologize for it. I’d do it again, and again. We all lie, Catalina. Don’t we? Some more than others, but we all lie. It’s the man I am. The man Giovanni is. The man your father was.” He took a step forward and she stood her ground. “I’m like them, and you know that. Now? Do you really think I would take a shot at your brother and miss? Let him live to make you cry? Do you think this game is about me wounding Giovanni? Or is it about me and you?”
She looked uncertain. He took that as a good sign. If she truly believed him guilty of that crime he’d never have her.
“Get out of my way! I want to leave now. You said you would send me home. Call Mirabella and tell her it was your fault!”
“I lied.”
“Damnit! Stop it!”
“I’m a liar. Remember? Would they believe me?”
“I’m leaving!”
“Where will you go?” he asked.
“Get out of my way.”
“It’s scary out there,” he handed her back her gun. “You’ll need more bullets.”
“Shut up!” She looked at the weapon then him. She then took the gun and tucked it into her purse.
“My men aren’t too tolerant of Battaglias right now. Where will you go and feel safe?”
“Mondello. I’m going to stay there.”
“No, you’re not,” he said and brushed his hand across her cheek. “Not alone. Not tonight.”
She didn’t knock his touch away. “Mirabella will let me come home.”
“Will she? Or has she learned the truth about Rosetta?”
“Shut up! You don’t know anything about that!”
“It’s all over the Campania. Everyone knows.”
“No!”
“They do.”
“Stop it! Just be quiet. I need to... think.”
He touched her arm and she didn’t pull away. That was another victory. Armando smiled. Princess always needed to feel special. He was lucky she came to him. He'd treat her extra special tonight. “You came here because you know there is nowhere else for you to go. You want to be out there? Alone?”
She opened her mouth to counter his argument. He touched her damp hair and she stiffened.
“Am I lying?” he asked in a quiet but firm tone.
“Yes. Because you lie. Because all of you lie.”
“Very good,” he said.
“You want what you always wanted,” A slight smile drew across her lips, but disappeared as she continued. “And that doesn’t make me feel special. I’m tired of feeling anything at all. When I'm with you, Armando, I feel empty.”
He pinched her chin and caused her head to tilt back. “What happened to your neck? Who did this to you?"
She stepped back and touched the bruises. They had faded considerably, but there were still red blotches from when Giovanni's nails cut into her skin. She lowered her gaze in shame. “It's none of your business.”
“Did Dominic do this?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“No!”
“I’ll kill him.”
“I said he didn’t do it!”
“Well you sure as hell didn’t do it to yourself.”
“It’s none of your business.
”
“You are my damn business. Now. You are here, now, mine.”
“No. No! Get out of my way.”
“Stay with me, Catalina.” His firm tone made it so that there was no other option but to obey.
“What?”
“Stay here. With me. Be safe and lied to,” he smiled and tried a different approach.
“Hell no.... I don’t want to. Move... move away,” she said in a shaky voice. When he didn’t step aside she shoved at him. Beat and punched his chest. Went to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him. He pinned her small hands to his chest where she buried her nails into him. He kissed the soft fullness of her mouth as she fought to resist. But his persistence won out. The moment of submission meant more to him than any moment they’d shared. Tension wound around them like ruthless vines trapping them in the kiss. A ravishment with her biting his bottom lip, and then returning his passion as he fought for dominance. His mouth left hers and went to her neck.
“No. No, Armando. Don’t do this.”
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He groaned after tasting her salty skin. “I will do this. I want this.”
“You’re hurting me,” she pleaded. All air vanished from the room and he held her tighter. He forced another kiss and then another. She could only respond with eager acceptance, or be devoured by his lust. It hadn’t dawned on him fully that she wasn’t resisting him anymore. He persisted. And then the passion ebbed enough for him to reclaim his senses.
“You bring out the best in me, Catalina. It’s your fault.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” he said.
“The best? So, it’s my fault you’re a conniving, manipulative, monster,” she panted. “Is it?” She broke free of him but he grabbed her by the waist and forced her to step closer.