by Mynx, Sienna
“Something wrong?” Giovanni gave a weary sigh.
“Yes. I said you missed dinner. I thought it was tradition that we eat together. You didn’t call or say you would be late.”
“Carrisima, I apologize. Don’t be angry. I’ve looked forward to seeing you all day.” The warmth in his smile echoed in his voice. His jaw clenched. “Now come to me.” He extended his hand.
“First, I have a question.”
Giovanni lowered his hand.
“Do you or have you ever had a kept woman, a mistress?”
His expression stilled and grew serious. His eyes were sharp and assessing as was his tone. “Where is this coming from?”
“Catalina told me that men, lots of men around here and in your family keep mistresses. Do you plan to keep one?”
A faint light of understanding twinkled in the depths of his blue eyes. He cocked his head to the right and his gaze lowered to her feet making a slow climb to her breasts. She felt an internal heat move through her body with the seductive way he swept her appearance. Was he actually turned on by the accusation? No. He couldn’t be. His gaze smoldered with desire and a sly smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Why would I want another woman? When you give me everything I need.”
“That’s not an answer,” she swallowed down her nervousness. She walked toward him. She wore a peach sweater dress and brown camel hair ankle boots. She stopped before him, and he ran both hands around her calves forcing her to part her legs and come to him. She complied by straddling his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed with her knees pressed into the mattress. She kissed his brow and stroked the side of his jaw. His head tilted back and she kissed his nose. His face was centered at the crease of her breasts.
“My mother was a mistress. It was a miserable existence for her, and she wasn’t the only one. My father had several. Madre was shamed to her grave to be a kept woman. His wife wouldn’t even let her sit at the front of the church at his funeral. Even I couldn’t change her suffering.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” she kissed his lips.
He dropped his face in between the cushions of her breasts and pressed his nose close to the beating of her heart. “Catalina and I are her bastards. We could not bury her next to my father. I would never take a whore. The woman in my life is going to be my wife, the mother of my children, my friend, my lover…” he rubbed his face against her breasts. “That woman is you, Bella. Only you.”
“I accept.”
“Never question my love or my commitment to you, and I will never give you a reason to question me. I swear it on our future babies, on my life.”
“I won’t.”
He slowly lowered back, and she captured his lips into a forgiving kiss. His hands roamed up and down her spine before going lower. He cupped both halves of her butt cheeks and squeezed.
“Ti amo, Giovanni,” she said.
“Ti amo alla follia.” I’m crazy in love with you, he answered.
****
Catalina lie in bed with her back to Franco. She felt bereft and desolate with him so close. When he returned home he barely said two words at the dinner table. Mira asked about Arturo in front of the few men who joined them at the table. Franco mumbled an excuse to explain Arturo’s absence. Catalina and Mira made small talk but the rest of dinner was eaten in silence except for the sporadic baby chatter from Eve. Giovanni didn’t arrive in time for the family meal, and she could tell Franco was relieved. Thinking back to their lovemaking in contrast to the ways Dominic made love to her, she began to see the truth. From day one it had always been awkward and hurried. No foreplay and no whispers of passion. She thought it was her because she just wanted it over, but now she knew differently. He was a fraud and so was their marriage.
He disgusted her.
She wished she’d never laid eyes on him.
Pulling back the covers she eased out of bed as gently as she could. Franco either pretended to be sleep or remained unaware. Going over to a chair in the room, she slipped on her robe. She looked back at him and wanted to smother him with a pillow. Catalina went to the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth. It came to her in the middle of the night what had to be done. She knew there was no other way to gain her freedom. Lifting her gaze to the woman in the mirror, she studied the bruise that had somewhat faded. There was still dark raised skin under her eye, but the concealer did a good job of covering it. Tonight she made sure not a trace of makeup remained on her face. Combing her hair forward to her face on the left side she hid the bruise under her thick locks.
Catalina crept from her room. She remained in the shadows grateful that she didn’t see any of the guards. It was a risk, however. Lorenzo’s room was next-door to Dominic’s, and she didn’t know if he was still at Melanzana or back in Milan.
She slipped silently inside. Dominic was home. He slept with his arm thrown over his eyes. In the dark she admired how handsome her hero was. His body, fit and trim, and his loins and stamina had made a woman of her when she was only seventeen. She remembered their first night, how hard he tried to resist and how desperate she felt to have him. He was gentle at first, eased her into lovemaking. And when she sexually matured in their affair he introduced her to passion that smoldered inside of her even when they were apart. This was why she could never turn away. Catalina slowly untied her robe and let it drop from her arms and then removed her nightdress. She wore nothing underneath. She combed through her hair with her fingers to make sure that the left side of her face was concealed under her long locks before crawling in a feline like maneuver across the bed to her lover. Dominic’s arm lowered. He squinted at her. Catalina eased over him kissing his lips before he fully woke. He kissed her back, and then pushed her shoulders to halt their passion. “No.”
Catalina’s hands ran up and down his chest. She avoided his eyes. “Please, Domi, don’t push me away, I so desperately need you.”
“What’s wrong?”
Avoiding the question she pulled back the sheets. She reached through the opening of his boxers and drew his dick out of the slit as she lowered her head to run her tongue across his bare chest. Dominic ran his hand over her hair and cupped the back of her head. “I’ve missed you so much cara,” he said softly.
She massaged his erection while circling his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He closed his eyes giving in to his weakness for her. Catalina ripped away the rest of the covers and straddled him. She positioned herself over his penis and slid down on his upturned dick effortlessly. Catalina rocked back and forth. Below, pleasure rippled through her pelvis from the stiff thickness stretching and filling her. Rubbing her hands over his muscled chest she let her fingers play with the soft curls dusting his pecks. Having him vacated the void of desperation she wallowed in.
He arched his back and fisted the sheets on either side of him as she rotated her hips in a way that enslaved him. Her touch was always gentle and sweet. No woman completed him as she did. She then leaned over, placing the palms of her hands on either side of his head so she could bounce on his cock, taking him in and releasing him repeatedly. Her lovely extended nipples hung in his face, and he opened his eyes and flicked his tongue upward toward her rose pink nipples that felt at home in his mouth. “Oh yes, Domi,” she moaned, quickening her bounce and gripping the pillow.
“Ti amo,” he said releasing her nipple and pulling her face down to kiss her. He found her mouth as feverish as the inner walls of her clenching pussy. Her tongue moved in and out of his mouth teasing him. Grabbing her rounded butt cheeks he thrust his hips upward to match her rhythm as he neared the orgasm that she brought from him with little effort.
“Not yet,” she whispered slowing down her rotating hips the way he liked. She didn’t want it to end? Good. Neither did he. He’d missed her so desperately the past few days. He’d sell his soul to the devil for this moment, and more of them.
“I want to make love to you all night. Let me,” she groaned as she grooved on top of him. Neither of them could
stand it any longer. He flipped her over to her back and she turned her head to the left immediately showing only the right side of her face. Dominic licked the side of her neck pounding his need into her. Catalina tightened her thighs to receive him, scratching his back as she fought to hold on. He whispered his love for her again in her ear, and she felt a sense of peace overcome her. Letting go of her inhibitions, she joined him and climaxed.
Exhausted he fell upon her, sweaty, his thick black curly locks pressed flat against his head. “We shouldn’t have done this,” he said lifting his head to look at her. Catalina’s hair fell free revealing her bruise. Tears in her eyes she looked at him sadly. “I have no one else but you, Domi.”
Dominic reached over to the lamp and switched it on to be sure his eyes didn’t deceive him. He turned her chin to get a good look at the ugly scar. “What the fuck is this?”
“He beats me, Domi.”
He touched the side of her face as if the bruise would magically disappear. She stared into his dark brown eyes and rubbed his sweaty shoulders. “I didn’t want you to know.”
Dominic sat up slowly. Air barely escaped him. He was breathless with rage. “Non ci credo! I’ll kill… I’ll fucking kill that motherfucker!” he yanked off the covers. Catalina flung herself on him to keep him in bed.
“No! Domi, look at me. Listen to me!” She grabbed his face and forced him to connect with her. Maybe it was the shock that made his reflexes slow. The room was spinning and his chest felt like it was weighed down with bricks. He hadn’t seen what he saw. She hadn’t said what she said. None of it could be true on his watch. The motherfucker would dare touch her?
“I’m so ashamed. If you go down there and wake the house then the truth will come out. Franco knows about us.”
Dominic blinked out of his stupor and focused on Catalina. She nodded, tears dropped and landed on his face. “He knows sweetheart. He says I’m a whore. He beats me because he says he’s ashamed of what I am. That I lied to him when I said I was a virgin.” Catalina dropped her head on his chest and wept. Dominic held her and closed his eyes. It was his fault. He should have never touched her. “Giovanni can’t know about us, Domi. You know he can’t. You have to kill Franco before he finds out.”
Her head lifted from his chest. Domi opened his eyes. “Don’t you worry he will never touch you again. He’ll be dead before sunset.”
Catalina hugged Domi and hid her smile.
****
Carlo took a bite of his sandwich. He sat next to Lorenzo with his chair turned backwards straddling the seat. “Is this the best you could do?”
Lorenzo’s gaze tilted up. “You think you could have done better?”
Carlo chuckled. “Fucker is useless.”
The bound and gagged man whimpered. With a noose around his neck and his hands tied behind his back, the only thing keeping him alive was his balancing act. He stood on a very shaky three-legged stool. His eyes bulged. Sweat ran down his face over the electrical tape holding the gag in his mouth.
“How the fuck is he going to tell us where Angelo is with his mouth covered?”
Lorenzo stood. He withdrew his gun and rammed it into the man’s groin. Carlo continued to eat, slightly amused. “Hear me. I can make this last all night. It takes a man exactly five hours to bleed out if his cock is shot off. Did you know that?”
The man whimpered.
“You will tell us where Angelo is, and we will consider sparing your life. Capisci?”
The man nodded.
“Cut him the fuck down.” Lorenzo put the gun back inside the back of his pants.
“Why do I have to do it?” Carlo frowned.
“Because I’m the fucking sotto capu. Now do as I say!”
Carlo cursed under his breath. He reached inside his boot and removed a knife. Lorenzo paced away. This was a long shot. Who knew if the fucking driver had any idea where Angelo was held up? But it was the only lead he had. If he played his cards right they could have Angelo before the night ended.
****
Mira opened her eyes to find herself alone. She sat up in bed and wiped fatigue from her sagging lids. Her head felt heavy, as if she’d been drinking. She hadn’t. Last night they made love until they both collapsed in exhaustion. The sheets were tangled around her waist and legs. She touched the four passionate bruises on her breasts from his sucks and love bites.
A deep whisper of a man’s voice echoed in the distance.
Mira froze and her attention was averted to the adjoining room, the door was partially closed. He was in there, and he sounded as if he were having a conversation. Mira drew back the covers and shed the sheets. She brought her feet around to plant them on the floor. The coolness sent icy shivers up her legs and spine. She found the strength to stand and quickly located a floor length nightgown and matching robe to cover her nudity. Tying the sash she approached the door to her daughter’s room curiously. When she opened it she saw Giovanni in a rocking chair holding a large book. Eve sat up in his lap fixated on the pages of the book. He read to her in Italian. Her daughter reached and turned the page prematurely blinking at the colorful illustration on the next page. Mira smiled. Giovanni continued with the story, rocking slowly. Eve sucked on her pacifier and dropped back against her father’s chest.
She watched them until the story came to an end.
“Lucciola, should Papa read another?”
Eve opened the book and indicated she wanted him to start again.
“I think that means yes.” Mira said. Eve’s head shot up. Immediately she began to wiggle to be free of her father’s lap. He let her slip from the chair, and her daughter hurried across the room toward her. Mira lowered. Her bones ached but not enough to prevent her from picking Eve up into her arms. “Did she wake? Was she upset?”
Giovanni rocked back and closed his eyes. He didn’t answer. Mira walked over to the crib and placed Eve back in it. Her daughter whined in protest but she forced her to lie down. A mother’s touch always worked. She rubbed her belly and shook her softly until her lids fluttered and shut. Mira sang softly to her until she was certain her voice lulled her back to sleep. It was late, and she should have changed her. But Mira withdrew.
“We need to talk.” Giovanni spoke.
She turned and he stood directly behind her. Giovanni cupped her neck and drew her face to his forcing her to rise on her toes and brace for support with her hands to his chest. He kissed her. “We need to talk, Bella. There’s something you should know.”
“Okay.”
“Is she sleeping?”
“She is.”
“Then come with me.”
He took her hand and pulled her toward the door. They ventured out into the dark house. He led her down the hall and then Giovanni paused. Catalina crept along the hall. She didn’t see them before she slipped inside of her bedroom.
Giovanni frowned at her stealthy behavior.
“She probably went below for something to drink.” Mira whispered. Giovanni stared a moment longer. Mira silently prayed that Catalina hadn’t been where she thought she’d been. God help them all if Dominic appeared next. “What is it you want to talk to me about?” Mira said, hoping to draw his attention. It worked. He continued down the hall holding her hand tightly. They arrived at a door she hadn’t entered. He pushed it open and she saw it was a small office. More like a library because the walls were covered with books. The only one without them was a ceiling to floor window behind the desk. The moon spread a natural light over everything and she walked inside, bathed in its silver glow.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Mira honored his request. Giovanni paced. Why was he agitated? Last night he didn’t fall asleep in her arms angry. “What’s wrong now?”
“I got a call. That’s what woke Eve up.”
“Okay?”
“You left here today. Went into Napoli?”
“To do some Christmas shopping. Catalina and I didn’t—.”
“You know you ar
en’t supposed to leave here without my consent!” Giovanni’s voice was abrupt. His nostrils flared. “People think you are dead. You can’t walk around here and keep that secret!”
“Oh, calm down.”
“What did you say to me?” he seethed.
“I was careful.” She threw up her hands in defeat. “I said calm down. Don’t make this into something it wasn’t.”
“Who was the man in the trees?”
“Man?” Mira blinked at him. “What trees?”
“Dammit, Mira!”
“I don’t know what I’ve done. I went shopping nothing else.” She opened her mouth to say more then stopped herself. Her eyes stretched and her breath hitched in her throat. She remembered. “There was a man. Eve ran up to him. He didn’t do or say anything, but he kind of came out of nowhere.”
“He was Asian?” Giovanni said.
“Yes.”
Giovanni wiped his hand down his face. “You aren’t to leave here again. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes I understand.”
His head turned and his focus was centered on the desk in the room. Eventually he looked back at her again. “After the bomb went off in your penthouse, when the world thought you were dead, what did Kei do to help you?”
Mira moistened her lips, her mouth and throat went dry. She didn’t want Giovanni focused on Kei again. Whomever the Asian man was, he didn’t have anything to do with Kei. She smiled up at him to soften his heart. “He helped me. I told you.”
“How, Bella?”
“Kei has friends. Powerful friends. He brought the F.B.I. to me. They…” Mira bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to tell him that the American government drilled her for hours on her relationship with him, what she knew of his world. The same people showed her pictures of his life, dead men tied to claims of murder.