La Dolce Vita: Romantic Suspense (Battaglia Mafia Series Book 7)

by Sienna Mynx

  Carlo left. He bumped the shoulders of several tourists and local people, as he headed for the only payphone he had seen for miles. Just as he arrived, a man approached and entered the booth. Carlo reached in and yanked him out. The frightened man gasped at first and began to protest angrily. Carlo gave him one hard look, and the man backed away. He turned and left.

  Carlo dug into his pockets and removed as many coins as he could. He dropped them in the slot and dialed the vineyard. He prayed Dominic was still there.

  "This is Carlo," he said when Dominic finally was given the line.

  "You were supposed to call over two hours ago."

  "I know. I'm sorry. The first phone I found..."

  "Never mind it. What do you have?"

  "I found Alek. And I'm told he's with a woman. She fits the description. I think it’s Isabella."

  "Where?" Dominic asked.

  "There's a church. He keeps her in the annex. I'm headed there. If you leave now, I could wait for you."

  "I was packing for Paris. Catalina has Fabiana's show today. I wanted to surprise her."

  "I can handle it. Umberto and I can take care of it." Carlo assured him. "Nico has already left for Sorrento? No?"

  "Yeah. He's gone. Fuck. Giovanni expects this one to be done without incident. I hear several are doing the same search as us. I hear that Giovanni has put a bounty on her head."

  "Why would he do that if he knows we are looking?" Carlo asked.

  "I guess he doesn't think we look hard enough. We need to be the ones that bring her to him. We must get to her first. Kill everyone, but keep her alive. What is the church?"

  "It is near Brancoli. San Lombardo. I won't kill her. But Alek Baldamenti is a different story," Carlo said.

  "I'm on my way.”

  ***

  Mirabella felt the bed move. She opened her eyes. Shadows were everywhere. She sat up and leaned back on her elbows. Her vision adjusted. A man sat on the edge of the bed. His head turned. It was Kei. Mirabella gasped. The air in her lungs clogged in her throat and prevented her scream. He was there. He was real. He was smiling at her. And then like a vapor of smoke he dissolved and disappeared.

  Gasping for air she tossed aside the covers and clutched her chest. It was a dream. The first nasty one she had experienced in a long time. But why now? The trip was healing her. Why did she see him again?

  She couldn't catch her breath. She had to get out of that room. Out of the house. She grabbed her robe and hurried out into the hall.

  The darkness in the house followed her. She descended the steps as if she were in a dream. But no dream ever felt so real. She could feel the cold touch of the hardwoods under her bare feet. She could feel the chill that often lingered, no matter the season, on the floor. She could smell the last meal cooked in her Me-Ma's kitchen. It was like perfume in the air. And as she came off the step she felt even colder. Mirabella walked through the darkness and stopped. A man stood at the record player. He dropped the needle on a spinning black disc.

  "Granddaddy?"

  He had a crown of gray hair, bald to the front and center. He looked back at her, and she could still see the gray in his sideburns and mustache. Abel Ellison was a tall man. He stood close to six foot three. He wore suspenders, always. Even when lounging at home, he wore a pressed white shirt, dress slacks, and suspenders. And if working the farm, he would switch to overalls. Tonight he had on the suit she buried him in. He stared at her. No expression, nothing. He just stared. Her heart beat so fast it exploded in her chest.

  "I miss you," she said.

  He smiled. The song ‘Welcome Back Home,’ by the Dramatics was set to play. The needle dropped on the spinning vinyl. The intro played beautifully. The calm melodic verse being the only words between them. Her grandfather extended his hand to her.

  Welcome back home... where you belong.... I'm the one that loves you...

  Mirabella was in his arms. She didn't know how, but she was holding on to the only father she'd ever known. She wept against his chest. She held as tight as she could to him, and the memory of him. His spicy cologne enveloped her. He kissed the top of her head.

  I really really love you. Forgive me...

  "I don't care, Granddaddy. I don't care what any of them say. I love you too. So much. And I'm so sorry. For everything. I should have told you about the baby. I should have. I was so scared. I made a mistake. A terrible mistake."

  Welcome back home. Where you belong. The music played and then faded as did her grandfather’s hold. Mirabella opened her eyes with her arms extended as if in an invisible embrace. She stood in her living room in the dark. The Dramatics had crooned the words of love before their voices disappeared, and the needle lifted from the spinning record. In disbelief, she looked around for her grandfather. He wasn't there. She smelled his cologne all over her. She sniffed her arms and smelled him. Confused and hurt over her loss, she stumbled back and sat down on the sofa.

  Maybe she was crazy?

  The truth was, she never wanted to know why her mother’s pictures weren't on the mantel. Why her grandmother would spend hours locked away in the attic. Something in the family was wrong, and she knew it caused her grandparents lots of pain. As a little girl, all she wanted to do was make them proud. To make up for the sadness, she could see in their eyes. A burden that wasn't hers. Why did they live with so many lies?

  Mirabella climbed the stairs and walked back to her room. She eased in under the covers and closed her eyes. One of her babies scooted in close to her. She didn’t open her eyes to see who. She just held her child as tight to her heart as she could without waking him. And she drifted back to sleep.

  ***

  Marietta couldn't sleep. When she got up to get a glass of water she saw her sister coming down the stairs. She almost said something to her. She didn't. From the kitchen she watched her. Mirabella played a record. She swayed as if she were holding a person. When the song ended she turned and went back up the stairs. In a trance. It was as if she were sleepwalking. Concerned she followed her. She found her asleep. Mirabella still refused to talk about everything they learned. And Marietta had yet to share the news of their mother’s diary. Her sister needed time and space. She gave it to her.

  Eventually, she did make it back to the kitchen. She was pouring a glass of water when Giovanni and Lorenzo walked inside. She almost dropped the glass at their state. Both men had blood on their clothes and looked haggard and red-eyed. They must have driven through the night.

  “Marie...” Lorenzo began.

  Marietta put her finger up to her lip to silence him. She walked out of the kitchen and looked them over. Whatever crime they committed she didn’t want to know. She didn’t need to know. “Get undressed. Down to your boxers and leave the clothes there,” she said.

  Giovanni frowned. He glanced to his cousin.

  “Unless you want to wake your children and your wife like that?” Marietta crossed her arms and gave Giovanni a challenging glare. Lorenzo began to strip. Giovanni shrugged and did the same. Marietta went into the kitchen and got a trash bag.

  "When I was in Chicago I had a customer; he used to come to the club to see me dance." She shook out the garbage bag. He was a police officer. A forensic police officer. He used to tell me things. How the police could always tie people to the crime through blood. A victim's blood on them. We burn these clothes. You two shower again and again until all of it is washed off. Leave the socks too."

  "Thanks, babe, can you fix me something to eat?" Lorenzo said and kissed her cheek. He walked off with a big yawn and climbed the stairs.

  Giovanni handed her the clothes.

  "Is Cutter gone?" Marietta asked.

  "Who’s Cutter?" Giovanni answered.

  Marietta looked up into Giovanni’s blue eyes. He stared into hers. She smiled. "I think we should head home soon. I don't care how you handle things, Giovanni. We're safer home. Especially now. She's safer home."

  Marietta began to stuff the garbage bag wit
h the last of their stuff.

  "Is my wife okay?” Giovanni asked.

  "It's not over for her Gio. She isn't okay. How can she be? Her world was a lot simpler before we came into it."

  “It was never simple for Bella," Giovanni said. “She grew up in a bubble. She chose Cutter to break her way out. Same way your mother chose James. Whether Bella knows it or not, she’s a fighter. A survivor.”

  "Yeah, you have a point,” Marietta smiled. “I guess I’m look at this all wrong. We don’t need to protect her anymore, not from us. She’ll be okay if we stop treating her like she’s fragile. This is our life, Gio. The good, the bad, and the ugly, it's ours. Make her live it with you. However, you can. But make her human and not some princess who won’t take your bloody clothes and burn them in a trashcan!" Marietta held up the bag.

  Giovanni nodded that he understood. Marietta tied the garbage bag and started off toward the back door. She stopped to go in the cabinets and get some lighter fluid and a match box. Giovanni grabbed Marietta's hand before she left the kitchen. She looked up at him curiously. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I will admit I never wanted you for her. Didn't think she needed anyone but me. I know now that I'm wrong. I believe that you are the perfect woman for my cousin. I believe that you are the perfect sister for my Bella. And you're good for me too. What I'm saying is..."

  "Save it." Marietta rolled her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."

  Giovanni smiled. Marietta smiled. To her surprise Giovanni pulled her into his arms and hugged her. She wasn't sure how to react at first. It was the very first time. But in that moment she realized she loved him too. They were family. She hugged Giovanni.

  "You're the love of her life, Gio," she said when he let her go. "No matter what she's done or does, that never changes. But if you hurt her, ever, you will have to answer to me."

  He nodded his obedience and she walked away.

  ***

  Carlo kicked in the door. He shot the first two men he saw. Alek Baldamenti returned fire. It was too late. Carlo emptied his gun. He could tell from the empty clicks of the weapon as he pulled the trigger repeatedly. Carlo threw up his hand and stopped Umberto from firing into the empty room. They weren't in the church, but they were on church property. The less amount of blood spilled here, the better.

  "Get him!" Carlo said.

  Umberto knocked over tables and chairs to get to the scumbag. He dragged him to the middle of the floor and held him there with a gun. Carlo stepped back. He looked outside of the door to his boss and nodded.

  Dominic walked inside and took in the scene. He found it hard to believe that she would be kept there. "Check the rooms. Find her!"

  Carlo and three of his men searched the place. Umberto, however, kept this gun pointed at the top of Alek Baldamenti’s skull.

  "Where is she?" Dominic asked the son of Baldamenti.

  "Vattela a pigliare in culo--go take it up the ass!" Alek spat at Dominic's shoes. Dominic glanced up to see Carlo and his men return with her purse, her luggage. Carlo opened the suitcase first. Inside he found clothes. He then found a small case with cassette tapes. On them, it said Lorenzo's name. Carlo frowned. He held them up for Dominic to see.

  "So, she was here?" Dominic asked.

  "And now she's gone," Alek smirked.

  Umberto hit him hard across the back of his head with his gun. Alek fell forward. He nearly lost consciousness. Umberto made him sit upright on his knees. He put the gun to Alek's head and looked at Dominic for the order.

  "Where is she?" Dominic asked again.

  "Vaffanculo a chi t'è morto--go fuck your dead family! You're going to kill me either way. I'm not telling you a damn thing."

  "Take him back to Sorrento. Drive through the night if you have to. Word will get back to his father that we have him. I need all of our men pulled out of Tuscany. Zia and Rocco too."

  Carlo stood. "I can make him talk."

  "Then get me some answers. Get them soon. I want to have that bitch before Giovanni returns from America."

  "And what about this stuff? These tapes? What is this shit?" Carlo asked.

  Alek laughed. "Why don't you listen to them for yourself, you lap dog? See what your master has been up to!"

  "Testa di cazzo! Another word out of your mouth and I will pull the trigger," Umberto warned.

  "Giovanni can listen to them. I got a call from Paris. I need to get there now. I've missed my first flight."

  Carlo nodded. "I have one stop to make, and then we will head to Sorrento. Bring him. We'll see how much of a tough guy he really is."

  Alek glared at Carlo. Carlo winked.

  PART Three

  The Reckoning

  Chapter Thirty

  The Seduction

  Paris, France

  Catalina pressed her eye against the tiny circular peephole. It was a huge night for Fabiana's. She and her team received a standing ovation. Giorgio Armani told her that their show was inspiring. She couldn't believe the applause and celebration in her name. Everyone wanted to interview her, take a picture with her, be seen with her. And all she could think about was Armando. The night ended on a sour note. She announced she had to leave to be fresh for the next event. The grand finale from the House of Mirabella's.

  She left the event earlier than she would normally. And just as she suspected, Raffaele was the first to stand guard. Paolo hadn't left the party below. He claimed to be on the lookout for anybody of suspicion. But she knew better. Paolo had never been around so much celebrity and decadence in one night. She hoped he had fun.

  "Come on, Rosie. Please. Do this one for me. Please."

  The door opened. Rosetta was in a very revealing white negligee. She looked like some sex-craving, virgin bride. Raffaele stood with his hands clasped before him. Stoic as ever. When he looked down at Rosetta, his hands dropped. Catalina couldn't see the desire in his eyes, but everything she saw of him said it was there. She told Rosetta that it would not be easy to seduce these men. But what did she know? She never looked at the men who worked for her brother in any inappropriate way.

  The plan would go off flawlessly if Raffaele played his part.

  When she was done with Armando, she would call Rosetta and wake her. Have her do the same thing to Paolo so she could sneak back into her room undetected. That was the plan.

  Rosetta ran her hand down Raffaele’s chest and smoothed his tie. Catalina waited. At first, it looked as if her guardian wouldn't take the bait. He did hesitate. But when Rosetta lifted her mouth up to his he went in for the kiss. She pulled his tie and brought him inside the room. The moment the door closed, Catalina was out of hers. She hurried down the hall. She would have run all the way if it weren't for the high heels she wore. She went as fast as she could. At the elevator, she held her breath. She punched the button several times. She kept glancing back behind her. What if he came out of the room? What if Paolo returned early? So many 'what ifs' crossed her mind she felt faint.

  The door to the elevator opened. Catalina went inside, and the doors closed. The first part of her destiny had begun. She prayed for the strength to see the rest of it through.

  ***

  Armando tasted the dinner. He frowned. It tasted like shit compared to his aunt’s cooking. It would have to do. He uncorked the wine and set the bottle down in the bucket.

  There was a knock at the door. Armando glanced over to his consigliere. The hotel provided a insuite butler service for the most prestigious of guests. He had dismissed the servant and put his own man in his place. The door opened. Catalina hesitated at the sight of Ignacio. He held the door open for her to enter. And after a long second, she did. She wore some kind of black dress coat with large military buttons crossing over her breasts. It tied securely at the waist. It had a hood like that of little red riding hood. Large enough to show her beautiful face. And her eyes were concealed behind dark oval sunglasses.

  Catalina stared at Ignacio. He nodded to his boss and left. She t
hen turned her gaze to him. Armando wasn't a man prone to nervousness. And he had plenty of reason to be nervous over this one. If Giovanni even thought she was his, he'd burn down everything between them to put a bullet in him.

  "You're on time. I thought you might be delayed. Big night for you."

  She stood there silent. She didn't smile or frown. And the Don could see so little of her curvaceous figure under her cloak.

  "Is this supposed to be a joke?" he asked. "What you're wearing?"

  She didn't respond. Armando approached her. He removed the sunglasses from her face. To his surprise her eyes glistened with repressed tears. And when she blinked, one dropped to her cheek. He took the liberty and wiped it away with his thumb.

  "Remember," he whispered. "This only happens if you want it to."

  "I don't want it to," she quickly said.

  "We haven't started. At the very least indulge me with dinner," he said. "Or am I that scary?"

  Catalina closed her eyes. He didn’t know if she were praying or thinking of turning and leaving. It was time for her to decide.

  “Take off your coat and join me.”

  She opened her eyes, and they locked with his. He waited. She untied the belt to her coat. She reached up to the collar and unfastened the buttons. She then undid the snaps until the flap fell over and opened. The hood dropped from her hair. She wore a simple black dress beneath. She shrugged off the coat and handed it to him.

  "What's for dinner?" she asked.

  Impressed, Armando folded the coat over his arm and gestured to the setting he had before tall windows that gave a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. Catalina tossed her hair with an air of confidence and walked to the dining table. Armando's gaze lowered to the sway of her hips and her perfectly shaped ass. He tossed the coat she wore aside. Catalina stood by the table and waited for him to pull out her chair. He did. She sat with grace. He scooted her chair in. The fear in her eyes was gone. Maybe it was a mask, an act. With her, he could never tell. The only thing he knew for certain was a simple seduction would never work. She would make him earn the night.