by Sienna Mynx
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye, Gio? I’ll be gone for weeks,” Catalina said.
He tossed the napkin to the plate and rose. Catalina smiled, hurrying around the table to him. “I’m so happy for you, Gio. Ti amo.”
He kissed her cheek and hugged her. “Ti amo,” he said in her ear. “Make me proud.”
“I promise, I will. Ciao!” She grinned, walking out with Dominic.
Giovanni watched his ex-consigliere lead his sister away with a dull ache in his heart. His natural instinct was to protect them both from the outside world he kept them shielded from. And here he was sending them thousands of miles away. Though he knew Dominic would be capable of handling their affairs, it made him uneasy. It would take some getting used to, to see her grow into a woman, Dominic’s woman.
“They will be fine.”
He glanced down at Mira. She patted the seat next to her and he sat. “You think I’m worried?”
“Of course you are. It’s in your nature to worry. You’re more than a brother to Catalina; she’s like your daughter. Dominic is a good man, a loyal man, and you practically raised them both. He will take care of her. Just like I plan to take care of you.”
Giovanni winked. “I’m a lucky man,” he said, eating some of what she offered from her fork.
Later –
The night had gone on with sinful indulgence in sweet wines, spicy cigars, and much celebrating. Every lit lantern swayed in the ocean breeze, sweeping up and through the sea cliff town. Several guests gave toasts to the newlyweds. Mira was most impressed with Lorenzo’s. He stood before them, talking of his lifelong friendship and love for his cousin. He spoke of their shared destiny and how now he understood there were paths they’d take differently. Marriage and happiness were two special rewards in life his cousin deserved. Lorenzo toasted them, and wished them everlasting love and many sons. Afterwards, she and Giovanni were encouraged to return to the dance floor. Holding his hand and following his lead, they stepped on a glass wrapped in a napkin. The broken shards of glass, once counted, would indicate how many years they would remain husband and wife. Mira laughed when Giovanni insisted on crushing the glass under his shoe to dust. And he did.
Once every goodbye was said, her husband whisked her and Eve to a private car. Eve rested in his lap and she under his arm, staring out at the lovely town that would forever be part of her heart. Mira wanted desperately to end their night. The dress fit so tightly to her after the food and cake she devoured, she feared she’d come out of the seams.
“I’m so tired,” she yawned. Eve turned her head and looked up at her mother, curiously.
“It won’t be long, Bella,” Giovanni ran his hand up and down her arm. She half expected to be taken to the airport for their next destination. One look out of her window into the night, she knew differently. They were at a marina.
“What are we doing here?” Mira asked.
“It’s time,” he said, and turned Eve on his lap to hold her as he exited the car. Mira slipped out behind him. She looked over to see Rosetta easing out of the car that followed them. She waved at Mira, grinning like a schoolgirl on her first adventure.
Mira smiled at her. She then looked out to the only water taxi parked at the pier. “We’re taking that?”
“No.” Giovanni pointed to the very sleek tri-deck motor yacht parked further down. There was a sundeck to the top. Black tinted windows surrounded where the captain navigated the machine. And those who wanted to lounge for a special view, could gather and have drinks on the upper deck. And of course a main deck, which she believed had a lounge area and cabins for sleeping.
“It’s ours. I named her Evelyn. After my mother.”
Mira felt a bit queasy. She sucked in deep breaths. A nighttime ride would be much easier than braving the sea during the day. Together, they walked against the wind to the waiting yacht; and he had to pass Eve to one of his men on the boat before he could help her board. She took her daughter below to the main deck. Rosetta and the others stayed topside or went to the upper deck, but Giovanni joined her.
“Interesting. We’re going to spend our honeymoon at sea?” she joked.
“We’re going to Capri. And I promise to show you paradise.”
She relaxed, holding Eve. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Seven
Io sono tua – I am yours
“Lorenzo? I was wondering if I could have a word.” Carmine stepped closer to the table.
Lorenzo blew out a ring of smoke from his cigar. The night did not end until the last partier left the tent. Several of his men had hooked up with village girls. Allowed just this night. The young women were closely watched by their brothers, uncles, and men from their families. Many purposefully looked away when the men got too frisky. Not that the families wanted their daughters with men inside the Camorra. But none would dare say so at Don Battaglia’s wedding.
He sat at a table with Carlo, listening to the details of their business matters in Napoli. A particularly nasty affair with a storeowner who was now refusing to make his scheduled payments with Santo’s men, ended with the man’s throat cut, and the throats of his two sons. Lorenzo would have to visit the family personally and make sure no one reported it to the polizia. Now, the kid stood in front of him, blocking his view of Marietta. She remained in the background most of the evening. At the moment, she sat alone at a table, nursing a drink. One leg was crossed over the other. Her foot kicked slowly up and down revealing more of her thigh. She appeared disinterested in the party atmosphere around her. His motherless dark flower didn’t hassle him to leave. But he could tell her patience was wearing thin.
“Can I speak with you?” Carmine asked in a louder voice.
Lorenzo’s gaze flickered up. He kicked the chair next to him out for Carmine to take a seat. This was Carlo’s protégé; the last one he met with got his gun shoved down his throat. What the fuck did Carmine want?
“Speak.”
“I’ve asked Gio for more responsibility and he’s said he’d consider it. I’m thinking if you give me a job to handle, I can earn some respect from the boss. Carlo, uh, he said,” Carmine cleared his throat. “There might be work in Milan?”
“There’s always work.” Lorenzo conceded. His gaze swiveled over to Santo. The lean gangster rose and his men did as well. His lethal glare shifted to Lorenzo, and with a sly smirk, he gave a nod of respect and walked out. Lorenzo cut his eyes over to Carlo, to see if he noticed. Carlo had. Santo was gaining a lot of respect in the Camorra and though he and Giovanni were tightly bound, Carlo and Lorenzo always kept an eye on him.
“Is there a place for me?” Carmine smiled.
Carlo wanted his boys to climb the ranks because it would elevate his position. Lorenzo understood that need. And fuck, Carlo was his best friend. Besides, a year ago Carlo was overlooked because of Santo’s loyalty, and the money he kept lining the Battaglia pockets with.
“This your idea?” Lorenzo asked.
Carlo shrugged.
“You plan to push this little shit on me?” Lorenzo asked Carlo.
“Hear the kid out. He has the balls. Let him use them.”
“Got a joke for me, Carmine?” Lorenzo asked. He took another drag of his cigar and returned his attention to Marietta. This time, she did look over. Irritation strained her pretty face. She rolled her eyes and uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. Lorenzo smirked. Those legs. He’d be between them soon enough.
No matter the day or season, Carmine could always be counted on to tell a joke. The worst, dirtiest of jokes, but still it’s what made the boys like him. Carmine nodded that he’d share another. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “So a man goes to the doctor for the annual check up. The doctor says to the man: I’ll need you to come back tomorrow with a urine sample, a poo sample, and a sperm sample. And the man agrees. When he gets home, his wife asks him what the doctor said. He tells her…” Carmine begins to laugh. Carlo and Lorenzo both stare at him and he tries to get through the r
est of the story. “So he tells her, the doctor says I need to bring back a pair of your knickers!”
Lorenzo glanced over to Carlo. His best friend took a swig of his drink. After a moment, he chuckled. Lorenzo smiled and nodded to Carmine that the joke was funny. He put out the cigar on the table surface and exhaled a long stream of smoke. “See that woman over there?”
Carmine’s head turned. Marietta happened to look up at them as they all stared. “Yes,” Carmine answered.
“She’s a friend. We are headed back to Milano together. I want you to keep your eye on her. She goes nowhere that you aren’t aware.”
Carmine looked to Carlo for help. Lorenzo knew he desired something more. He kicked at his chair and forced him to return his attention to him. “I have a matter with David Capriccio you will be helping me with. If you handle yourself well, then you will get a bigger job. You want more responsibility, then you’re going to fucking earn it. Go and introduce yourself to my lady, and see if she needs another drink.” Lorenzo reached back into his pocket. He pulled out more bills than he was sure Carmine made in a week. “Leave tomorrow, and meet me in Milan.”
“Got it, Boss.” Carmine rose, stuffing the money in his back pocket. He walked toward Marietta. Lorenzo slumped back in his chair and watched them. She looked to him and then to Carmine when he approached her. For a minute, she didn’t speak. Then she nodded to Carmine and said a few words.
“What the fuck are you up to?” Carlo asked.
“Business, a little pleasure.” Lorenzo answered. “A lot of pleasure. Now I understand why Gio loves his Mira.” Lorenzo chuckled. “Something to be said about their kind.”
“Yes, but that one looks like his Mira.” Carlo sat upright, his brow creased with concern. “Are you purposely trying to undo the progress you made with Gio? Bringing her here?”
Lorenzo sighed. “They don’t look that much alike. And I got another reason for my friendship with that one. Trust me. It’s important.”
“Forget your dick. Santo is becoming a problem. He’s not to be trusted. Giovanni has the alliance with the Ndrangheta; and I hear rumors that Santo is meeting with Bonaduce’s oldest son on the side. It could be trouble.”
Lorenzo listened. Carlo’s jealousy of Santo made it difficult to reason if there was a problem, or envy. “Bonaduce knows better than to step this way again. Santo is a lot of things but he’s not stupid. We have the triangle. There are no deals to be made with the Bonaduces. What are these deals you think he’s made?”
“I’m not sure. The fucker isn’t exactly chatting me up with details. I think we should pay a few of his gambling houses a visit. Make sure nothing’s out of order. You with me?” Carlo asked.
“Can’t. The clock is running down on David Capriccio. I hear that the Nigerians have stashed marijuana in Giovanni’s territory.”
Carlo sat up. “Does Gio know?”
“No need to worry him about the matter. I will deal with it. Residual bullshit from Giuseppe Calderone.” Lorenzo rose from his chair. He picked up his keys and his lighter, shoving them into his pockets. “Send someone else to check in on Santo’s boys. I don’t need you two getting into a gunfight when I’m gone. Gio wants peace for his little vacation.”
“What if he’s stiffing us?”
“I’ll handle Santo.” Lorenzo slipped Carlo a look. “Or I’ll let you handle him. For now, keep the peace.”
When he approached Marietta, Carmine rose. “Shall we?”
Marietta grabbed her purse and Lorenzo drew back her chair. He stepped back and let her come out from between the chair and table. She did, and to his surprise, her hand sought his. Lorenzo took hold of it and led her out.
*****
Isola Azzurra, translated in Italian, meant”blue island”. It was how many in the Campania referred to Capri. She loved the word. And if the night hadn’t blanketed the sea, she was sure the waters would be a brilliant blue green, with sparkling depths all around her. Instead, the yacht sailed in darkness. Giovanni shared stories of Tiberius and ancient Romans who considered the islands in the bay of Naples sacred vacation spots. She and Fabiana had wanted to visit but never got a chance to. As a girl, she loved the fantastical tales she read in books about Capri, and the pagan gods that ruled over the tropical island.
“So we will stay here for how long?” She snuggled up against him. She had kicked off her shoes and her feet were stretched out on the left side of her. It wasn’t the most comfortable position with her restricting wedding gown. But being close this way, felt nice.
Giovanni sat forward, forcing her to do so as well. He stood and reached behind him for her hand. Eve slept across from them on the sun chaise with her baby blanket over her. Mira rose with his assistance, and followed him as they crossed the wood floors in the expansive lounge area that faced forward on the yacht; and over to the steps that allowed them to enter a level up and view the night from panoramic windows.
“As long as you need. I’ve rented a villa along the marina at Piccola Beach with a magnificent view of the Faraglioni. We will also visit Isichia, because that island is known for their thermal springs, the best place to swim during these months.
“No swimming,” she said, emphatically.
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “The beaches there are where the sun shines all year round, the weather rarely changes. You will love it, Bella, I promise. Enjoy it with me, my wife.” He kissed her cheek. His arms folded around her waist.
“Mmm, I like when you say the word, wife.” She could care less about the hot springs. But time in paradise, without him being called away on business, sounded like heaven.
The natural bob and sway of the yacht soothed her. She reclined into him. “We have Eve. So we should think it’s her honeymoon too. Let’s take her to see the gardens and caves I’ve read about as a kid.”
“Got it covered.” He ran his hand over her tummy. “I love this dress,” he groaned.
“I can’t wait to get out of it.” She turned and lifted her arms around his neck. He reached behind her and eased down the zipper. “Giovanni, you know we can’t. What if someone comes below?”
“They know better,” he said, continuing to run the zipper down.
“We don’t have the time. Stop, we can’t.”
“We have another thirty minutes before we reach the island.” He tugged on her zipper. He didn’t realize there was more to the dress. A dozen or more hooks and tiny fasteners that his large fingers couldn’t undo. She feared he’d rip straight through them.
“Let me help you.”
Giovanni stepped back to give her room. He reached over to the wall and turned the dial to dim the lights and further extend the shadows. His men and their companions remained on the upper deck. No one would dare come below. A quick glance over his shoulder, out into the inside cabin, he saw his bambina hadn’t moved. The boat’s glide cradled her into sleep. Beautiful, content, safe, he wanted his children to know this kind of love and peace always. But first, he would make sure his wife did too.
Mira released a sharp exhalation of breath and then another slower one from her lovely mouth when she finally freed herself of what had to be restrictive on her lungs and abdomen. As the dress lowered, her breasts appeared sweetly cupped by a white strapless lace bra. Mira never took her eyes off him. She eased the dress down her heart- shaped hips to reveal her garter belt with slender straps connected to her thigh-high, white lace trimmed garter stockings. What peeked his interest was the fact she wore no knickers. He struggled to calm his racing heart at the sight of her body.
He looked up into her eyes and she gave him a fresh smile. Oh yes. She was definitely his woman. Mira reached behind her and released her bra. “Thirty minutes? We need to make sure it’s worth it,” she teased.
“Don’t rush your husband, not on a night like this. We leave when we’re ready.”
Giovanni flicked his thumbs over her nipples and they hardened instantly. She supported her weight by leaning back on th
e console with her hands firmly planted on top. She tilted her head, raising her chin, and arching her nipples up to receive his fondling. Mira wielded control. She lifted her left foot to the swivel spectator chair over to her side. In doing so, she gave him full access. Giovanni shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and tossed it behind him. He slowly opened the buttons to his shirt and pealed it off his muscle- packed shoulders and arms. Her gaze moved over the tight ridges of his abs, forming a solid six pack seen under his white t-shirt, and down to his trim waist. He stepped between her parted thighs like a champion up for the task. Thirty minutes of the most explosive passion awaited her. When his mouth lowered and covered her right nipple with wet heat she bit back a whimper, but a tiny groan slipped out. The inner tightness of her pussy clenched tighter. He sucked on her nipple and pinched the other. His mouth finally released her from the delicious torment, and his gaze leveled on her.
“Are you ready?” he asked
“Yes,” she exhaled.
He placed a hand to her left knee, giving it a squeeze. And then pushed it down, opening her further.
“Bella?”
“Yes.”
“There are things we’ve never tried. Things we’ve never shared.” He drew his fingers down her knee and traced them along her inner thigh all the way to her core. “You’re my wife now.” His two middle fingers swiped between the lips of her splayed pussy. “I’ll need to have all of you.” He pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit. She jerked convulsively. “Do you understand my meaning?”
Dazed a bit with his fingers stimulating her, she couldn’t gather her thoughts to make sense of his request. What more could she possibly give?
“Io sono tuo.,” She answered that she was his. He had effectively worked up her arousal to a fevered pitch.
“If we were truly alone, I’d help you understand.” He pinched her clitoris with a little bit more pressure than she expected, and Mira’s eyes opened wider.