by Mynx, Sienna
She closed the door behind her. How long had he been sitting alone, waiting? She stared at him a moment. He devastated her with how handsome he was in his dark suit and tie. She and Mira joked that they should send the Battaglia men down the runway for her men’s line. Dominic wasn’t as tall as Giovanni and Lorenzo but he was by far sexier than any male model she’d seen.
“Ciao, Domi,” she said with a smile. The day had been grueling and she missed him terribly.
“Why don’t you use your own office, Catalina?” Dominic asked. He sat forward and clasped his hands on the tall desk he sat behind. He glanced left to right at the file folders and portfolios. “This is Mira’s office.” His gaze then lifted to hers.
“I do use mine. At times. But this one’s bigger. I can hold meetings and stuff in here.”
“And stuff? What stuff?” Dominic stared at her. She always felt nervous when he had that look. It was far worse than her brother’s. Giovanni spoiled her. He rarely saw through her deception, until recently. However, since she was a kid Dominic knew when she was lying. She liked playing boss. And from Mira’s office that is exactly how everyone treated her.
“Okay. The truth is I’m the boss around here. Even Carole listens to me. I thought I should conduct business in the boss’s office, for appearances. Mira won’t be back in that chair,” she pointed to the chair Dominic sat in. “For two to three years. And you and I know it.”
Dominic continued to stare at her.
Catalina smoothed her hands down her hips and tossed her hair from her shoulder. She approached him with an imposed air of confidence. “I know what this is about.” She walked around the desk. “You think this… all of this… it’s getting out of hand. We haven’t seen each other in over a week, baby.”
Dominic sat back in his chair. Catalina turned it sideways so he faced her. She leaned forward with her hands gripping both sides. “Everything I do for this company is out of love for the famiglia. This is our business too. Right?” She didn’t bother to wait for an answer. She continued. “And I’ve got good news. I’ve finished early. We can leave whenever you’re ready. I can’t wait to get to Mondello.”
A hint of a smile touched his face. Guilt filled her when she thought of her neglect. But she also battled such overwhelming excitement over her projects at Fabiana’s. She’d been sketching her own designs. She was going to show them to Mira. She eased on to his lap and crossed her legs so they dropped in a very ladylike manner in her skirt over the right arm. Dominic initiated the kiss. It was a slow meticulous roll of his tongue over hers. Sweet yet uninhibited, she responded and controlled their passion while demanding more.
“Mmm,” she released him. “I have missed you, honey. What time does our flight leave?”
“We won’t be taking a flight. We’ll catch the train to Rome then take the train and ferry to Sicily.”
“What?” Catalina frowned. “That’ll take over twelve hours.”
“I got us a private car in first class.” Dominic smiled. “It’ll be romantic.”
“Domi, that’s such a waste of our time, besides I have—”
He put a finger to her mouth. “I want you alone. We need to talk before we see Giovanni. I intend to ask him for his blessing.”
Her eyes stretched. Her heart leapt at the mere mention. “You plan to ask him to let us marry? Are you serious? So soon? He said we have to wait a full year.”
“I have his confidence again. Besides, I want a wife, a mother of my children. Our future.”
Catalina pressed her lips together. Yes, she wanted to be his wife. Since she was twelve years old she’d dreamt of it. But things had changed for her. So much had happened since their trip to America. Teddy said she was as talented as Mira and as business savvy as Fabiana. She was trying to convince him to return to Milano to work with her on some new ideas she had. And downstairs the press and people of Milano were in a frenzy over her fashion show.
“Maybe we shouldn’t push Giovanni, Domi. Things are good between you and him. He’s letting me work here and he’s been really good about us living together in Napoli.”
“So?” Dominic frowned. “You think I want to live in sin?”
“Sin?” Catalina nearly laughed. She knew better. “We sinned a long time ago, Domi. I just think we should take things slow.”
“Do you want to be my wife?” he asked, and she caught an edge of concern in his tone.
Catalina touched his cheek. She kissed his lips. “Of course, sweetheart.”
“Then it’s settled. We will go to Giovanni and tell him the time has come.”
“But, Domi…”
“No more discussion, Catalina. We will go to him and get his approval.”
She sighed. “Why the hell do we have to go by train?”
“You know we can’t have sex at Villa Mare Blu, a private train car is what we need,” he smiled.
“Oh please,” she rolled her eyes. “Are you saying we’re going to stay in Sicilia for months and not have sex?”
“We cannot. It’s Giovanni’s rule. Now let’s go,” he patted her leg. “We have a train to catch.”
Catalina eased off his lap and stood. She fixed her dress. “I have to close up around here.”
“You said you were ready, all mine?” Dominic asked.
“Yes sweetheart, but if I’m going to be out of reach for over twelve hours on the biggest day of Fabiana’s I need to put things in order. Right?”
Dominic drew back his sleeve. “You have an hour.”
Catalina suppressed the urge to demand more time. Instead she blew him a kiss. “That’s all I need.” She walked out of the office and looked back through the glass door. Dominic paced. She sighed sadly. Disappointed.
3.
“Our sons are a good omen. Did you know twins built Rome? Their names were Romulus and Remus,” Giovanni said.
“That’s a myth.”
“Myth! It’s a legend, Bella. I’ve told the story to Eve,” Giovanni said.
“Oh I’ve heard the story. Twins who were suckled by a she-wolf? Please!” Mira said under a light chuckle. “I think I believe the tale of Romulus and Remus more than she does. Try the old lady and the shoe, or Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater. She likes that one.”
Giovanni scoffed. “Nonsense. Eve loves my fables.” He touched his daughter’s foot.
“Aha! See! It’s a myth!” Mira laughed. “You just admitted it.”
He smiled. “Naughty Mama doesn’t know that Papa’s fables are always rooted in truth,” he said to his sleeping daughter. “Look at her, Bella. She’s a good bambina. She’s Papa’s girl. Easy to please as long as she has her little suckie thing.”
“Pacifier.” Mira corrected him once more.
Giovanni rubbed his finger across Eve’s cheek. “Mia piccola lucciola,” he said. Calling her his little firefly in a tone of adoration that was so sweet. She was truly a child made from love. Mira had watched for months as the bond of love between father and daughter strengthened. For Eve the sun rose and set on the broad shoulders of Papa. And Giovanni basked in his daughter’s attention, softened when she walked into a room on bowed legs. Woke her on nights he arrived home late and took her into his office to sit with him when he met with his men, something Mira only recently learned of.
“Do you think we can convince her to release the little plug she sucks on for good?”
Mira laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”
“But isn’t she too old?” Giovanni asked. “I think it stunts her. She should be talking more.”
Mira looked down at her daughter with concern. “You may be right. I’ve never been around babies before Eve. I only gave her the thing because she cried so much when she was born. It helped her sleep. Now she won’t let it go.”
“Then we need to take it from her.” Giovanni said.
“Let’s take it one day at a time,” Mira advised.
She cradled Eve against her. When she held her this close she felt a warm glow of happi
ness flow through her. On the plane the seating to the back was reserved for their entourage, Rosetta, Cecilia, Leo, Nico, and Renaldo. The front seating allowed for her to recline and gaze out of the window at the scattered clouds. Giovanni remained close. If she needed water he was the first to pour her a glass. Before she knew she was hungry he offered her a slice of kiwi, or the sweetest grapes she’d ever tasted. He whispered in her ear how pretty she was yesterday and today. Her husband found ways to touch her even with Eve sleeping against her breast.
This is what it felt like to be his love—she was spoiled because of her husband’s devotion. Mira’s head turned slightly in an effort to see him. She liked the physical changes in her husband too. He had started boxing more down in his secret room. His body was fit and his muscular form chiseled nicely under the fine dark threads of his tailored suit. He had grown some facial hair, a mustache goatee that made his mouth all the more tempting to her, especially when he gave her those half smiles when he was pleased. His thick dark hair was tapered neatly to his collar. He was a massive, self-confident presence that constantly drew the attention of others, men and women. And he smelled lovely. A manly scent hung over him. It spoke of power and control. She blushed over being caught staring. He only responded by kissing her cheek and ear once more.
Mira closed her eyes and relaxed. He was happy. She was happy. From the moment they boarded the plane he made the most wonderful promises to her. Their return to Sicily was as important to him as the day they exchanged their vows.
“Do you know what I think?” Giovanni asked. “I think our boys will be the greatest of all the men in my family and yours, I feel it don’t you?”
She pop-kissed him in response. He drew her back in with a more seductive kiss, and when he released her she felt her heart lodged in her throat. “Cara mia,” he said softly. “Mother of my gladiators,” he chuckled. “What would I have ever done if I never found you?”
“We found each other. And I’m more than the mother of your children. I’m your soul mate, and you’re mine. We’re destiny.”
“Destino,” he nodded.
Mira averted her gaze back to the window with a deep sigh. When he treated her so adoringly she felt foolish. Two days ago they had an awful fight. It started from nothing. That morning she had awoken with the deepest feeling of depression. It followed her throughout the day. While in her sewing room, opening a box of fabric samples sent by Carole and Catalina, she broke down in a screaming fit when she uncovered the poor quality of the material. Her rage was so intense and destructive to anything within her reach the staff notified his men and they sent for Giovanni to return from Napoli. He stormed through the doors of Melanzana and yelled at everyone to leave her to him when he found her pacing and crying in her room. He called her moody and irrational. She called him a bully and uncaring about her isolation. The argument ended with him forcing her to bed.
The doctor said she was hormonal and the depression was to be expected. But she knew Giovanni hid the truth of her issues. No matter what reasons he and the doctor fed her about her condition, the spotting of blood could not be normal. She never had blood when she wiped while carrying Eve. And even worse she feared her inability to control her emotions. The arguments between her and Giovanni were always away from the eyes and ears of the family, but left them both drained and disillusioned. She didn’t understand why their life, her role as a mother and Donna to this family all of a sudden became insufferable on one day, and then the very next day a dream come true. She prayed Sicily, and his dedication to being at her side for the last trimester would alleviate her anxiety. She feared nothing would.
“Why are you quiet? What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Can’t I own my thoughts privately?” she answered.
“Of course, Bella. I only asked because I love it when you share those thoughts with me,” he teased.
She didn’t bother to smile. Like the wind her mood shifted and again she felt a bitter resentment rise in her. “It’s Sicily. You talk as if the place is better than Disney World.”
Giovanni’s brow creased.
“I’m excited,” she quickly added. “It’s our little adventure and I need a change of pace. Still the timing is so close to my delivery date feels rushed.”
“It’s well planned. Trust me, Bella. Everything I do for you and our family is planned.”
The clouds cleared and she could see the island of Sicily. She was curious about his life as a boy and why Mondello, which was only a few miles outside of Palermo, was so important to him. “I still have questions.”
“Ask them.”
“Why? Why should I? You’re not going to answer them,” she sighed.
“Try me,” he said.
She glanced over at him. He arched his brows. “Try me, Bella.”
“Did you, Lorenzo, and Domi spend a lot of time here? Or were you mostly raised in Italy?”
A gust of laughter escaped him. As if he expected her to ask him the code of the Mafia. He was always on guard with the secrecy of his lifestyle. It became possible for him to hide many details about his past. “Yes, and yes, Bella,” he answered. He kissed her cheek and just under her jawline. He took Eve’s hand with his fingers and lifted it to press a gentle kiss to her tiny knuckles. Their daughter sucked a little harder on her pacifier but didn’t wake.
“Domi’s adopted. Right?” she continued. “I’ve always wanted to know his story. Like where did he come from?”
“He was hatched from an egg,” Giovanni chuckled.
“Is he the son of a family member?” she ignored his joke. “Or did your mother convince your father to adopt? Which would be strange.”
“Why?” he asked. She could hear a bit of impatience in his tone but she chose to ignore it as well.
“You said your father rejected his first wife because she couldn’t have kids. He took your mother when she was young and kept her because she carried you. I saw the way the men acted when you announced we were having sons. If you are this happy to have your legacy I would think your father was even more traditional regarding the children he accepted as his own.”
Giovanni scratched his brow. Mira felt his emotional retreat. When he struggled with intolerance his mood swing would be abrupt. She didn’t want to ruin the pleasant moment they’d shared. But the more he held back the more she wanted to know his secrets. Being overprotective of her was one thing, but locking out parts of his heart and the secrets to why he was the man he was couldn’t go on. “Tell me, baby. Can’t I know about who Domi is to you? Where he came from? Your parents’ adopting him is strange isn’t it?” Mira pressed.
“No,” he replied.
“Okay. Well how about the timing? Your mother had Catalina. But in between there’s Domi? The age gap between you means your father adopted Domi right after you returned from Ireland. Right? I did the math. You and Eve were back from Ireland after being gone for two years. And then he adopts a son while she is pregnant with Catalina? He had the family he wanted. Why adopt another child?”
“Bella, let it go,” Giovanni sighed.
“Oh good grief what’s the big secret? You told me you would answer my questions. Answer them.” She demanded.
“Why does it have to be a secret? If I don’t want to talk about it then I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” Giovanni sat back in his chair.
“Not good enough. I’ve had a history lesson on all your business associates. Zia said I needed to make sure I understood these ‘clans’ that are a part of your organization. But what about when it comes to Domi, Lorenzo, Carlo, Nico, Renaldo?”
“Let it go,” Giovanni sighed.
“Leo, and Carmine—” she continued. “By the way we haven’t seen Carmine in months? What happened there?”
“Carmine quit. I told you that,” Giovanni grunted.
Mira rolled her gaze away from him. If they are the Mafia she doubted any man could up and ‘quit’. But they weren’t the Mafia. The Battaglias were somet
hing far worse according to the news reporters hawking her for an interview since her wedding. The meaning, history, and dirty dealings of the Camorra in southern Italy remained a mystery to her. She decided to let the Carmine disappearance go. Especially after a woman on her staff told her that Carmine had been killed and buried in a private memorial service that her husband attended. Secrets. Lies. They were a stain on her marriage and she pretended not to notice.
“All I’m saying is I’ve gotten an explanation of who these men are and I see how close you are to your inner circle. Ignorance isn’t always bliss, Giovanni.” She lowered her voice. “You can’t put a gun in my hand one day and say beware of the boogie man and then deny he exists the next.”
Her husband looked over at her. He then cast his gaze past her to the window as if considering her argument. “Domi’s not the boogie man.”
“You know what I mean,” she said.
“I do. He’s my brother. His biological father worked for a family acquaintance of Patri’s in Sicily,” he said. His voice was almost mournful. But she saw no sign of emotion on his face. She adjusted Eve in her arms and waited. If he wanted to tell her then he’d do so at his own pace.
“When Micheli Esposito died he left Domi an orphan. A scared little kid with no family, no compassion, he was in a bad state.” She could hear the tightness in Giovanni’s voice. She touched his hand to get him through it. “It’s not so strange, Bella, that my father would want to help a kid like Domi. My father wasn’t all evil. He had compassion in him.”
“I never said—”
“My father always wanted sons. And Domi is his son.” Giovanni insisted.
“I only meant—”
“I know your meaning!” Giovanni said, and his voice pitched high. Mira removed her hand from his. He expelled another deep breath. “Forgive me. I don’t like thinking about those days of how we found Domi. How close Domi came to not existing.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mira said softly. “Your wounds are so deep, Giovanni. I’m your wife. I want to share your burden.”
“You can’t.”