by Mynx, Sienna
Giovanni smirked. “Is that so?”
“You were right to close Isabella’s. We didn’t know that the Albanians had young girls, or if it was Francesco who soiled our business. The family and our honor were jeopardized because of it. You were right cousin and I was wrong. But there’s something you don’t know.” Lorenzo swallowed. He thought of Fabiana’s words to him. Last night he confessed. He told her of how his jealousy got him to drinking in Genoa one night, the night he stumbled into Giuseppe’s club and bitterly told his tale of being rejected by the Don. When he learned that Don Tomosino had no intention of letting Giovanni go, but would bring him back and make him next in the line to lead Battaglia. That night he and Giuseppe commiserated over how they loathed their fathers. And whether it was a joke or boastful bragging, they suggested taking a shot at each other’s Don to free them. Lorenzo didn’t mean it. But Giuseppe hired some Russians to do the job. The bastard set it into motion, and Lorenzo could do nothing to stop it. He confessed this shame to Fabiana and she held him, took his burden and swore to help him through it. Now he had to remember her advice. To not falter, not waver from his truth, but to do anything to keep the nasty details from his cousin.
“Continue.” Giovanni said. “What is it I don’t know?”
“The real threat that I’ve kept from you is the Nigerians. They’ve started moving drugs along the Amalfi, and Giuseppe helped them. He tricked me.”
Giovanni tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.
“I was trying to gain some advantage in Genoa. I had agreed to let Giuseppe import through my line of the coast.”
The Amalfi was hard to move in and out of without being stopped by patrols. Giovanni never had this problem because of the people on his payroll. This gave Lorenzo the freedom to take liberties that he shouldn’t have. A coil of rage tightened his lungs, and Giovanni breathed slow and easy to remain calm and hear the tale. He nodded to Nico, and his enforcer stepped directly behind Lorenzo.
His cousin wiped his jaw, his gaze unsteady as it switched from Giovanni to Flavio, then to Dominic. “Rare antiquities that were being put in the market. Giuseppe wanted to deal with the Nigerians to handle it. Players we don’t know. I believed him, at first. Then I checked a shipment myself. A small bust broke and inside was drugs. When I confronted the worm, he admitted to bringing in drugs. I was outraged. We argued, he insulted Papa, you, and our family. So I killed him.”
“Albanians, Russians, Nigerians, what the fuck is this Gio, the UN of thieves? Why are all these outsiders circling? And why, Lorenzo, did you not think to tell any of this?” Flavio asked.
“I had it under control.”
“You figured.” Giovanni nodded. “You decided for all of us.”
“I made a mistake. I tried to rectify it, Giovanni.”
He rose from his chair. He stood before the gun and Lorenzo. Every man in the room tensed. Lorenzo’s voice broke the stand-off. “I am guilty, but is it worth my life Giovanni? What do you need from me, cousin, for me to gain your forgiveness?”
“It is not worth your life.” Giovanni half smiled. “I couldn’t do that to Catalina. But you have lost all privileges. Including the house in Bellagio. Dominic is now my left hand.”
“Giovanni!” Lorenzo barked. “That is not just!”
His lips curled into an angry snarl. “It is the only justice today for what you have done!” he yelled.
“And? That’s it? I’m an errand boy?”
“You’re alive. Show some gratitude.” Flavio warned.
Lorenzo turned to respond, but Nico delivered a hard punch to his spine. Unexpectedly, Lorenzo's knees buckled, and he dropped on all fours. Renaldo grabbed Lorenzo’s hair and yanked it up as Nico stepped in front of him and started to pound his fists into his face until blood spewed from his nostrils and mouth. Semi-conscious Lorenzo fell over to the floor, and all four men began to kick him in the chest, back, even to the face. Giovanni glanced up to Dominic who had fear in his eyes. He nodded that the beating could cease. Dominic yelled for the men to stop and shoved them several feet away from Lorenzo. He went to his knees, checking on him. Giovanni walked back to his desk and sat behind him.
“Clean him up. Don’t let Catalina see him that way.”
They carried him out. As angry as he was with him, he loved him still. Killing him at the end of this would be the hardest thing he would have to do. Yet the lessons learned from his father and his uncles made him a man capable of it. Lorenzo knew this. They were all on borrowed time.
Chapter Twelve
Shopping had only taken a little over an hour. They were back to find the villa buzzing with activity. There appeared to be more men now than before they left, and Mira could sense the tension between all of them stomping around the grounds. Catalina was given an update from her staff in Italian, and she spoke to Fabiana in Italian. Mira tried not to take it personal, but it irked her. She was then led to the third level. Mira was shocked to see a lot of her equipment from the boutique had been brought in.
“How is this possible?” Mira asked.
Fabiana smiled. “I told you I’d make it work. Lorenzo pulled some strings.”
Mira found her kits and felt like she could breathe again. Suddenly the heaviness on her heart lifted. As Fabiana gave some instructions on where to set up her cutting tables, Mira drifted to the window. It faced the back of the estate. Giovanni was below. He was near the pool pacing with the man he introduced her to earlier. Frowning, she moved closer to the window observing his body language. Something was wrong with the way he kept smoothing his hair back. He was angry again.
“Mira, where do you want this?” Fabiana asked.
She turned from the window and tilted her head to the left looking at the table “Over there in the corner,” she said then turned back in time to see Giovanni heading to the cottage they called rosso.
“Come here, sweetie.” Mira said walking over to her portfolio that they’d delivered. She tore a clean sheet of paper free and found a sharpened pencil in the side pockets. Clara, Fabiana, and Catalina all stood riveted as Mira sketched the idea of the dress before them. In under ten minutes she had the concept completed. Catalina clapped with delight.
Clara paled.
“It’s perfect. Can you do it in time? Can you?”
Mira tried to match her excitement, but images of Mira and Dominic kept flashing to the front of her mind. She nodded that she could.
“No. No. No. No!” Clara said. “The cleavage is wrong. And it fits too snug below the waist. It won’t do.”
“I want this dress! This one!” Catalina protested.
“Time out!” Fabiana said. She took the woman by the elbow, and they spoke in Italian. Their voices rose and Clara moved her arms animatedly, gesturing at Fabiana. The old woman reached her limit and stormed out.
“What did you say to her?” Mira asked.
“Don’t worry. You work on the dress, and I’ll handle the matchmaker from hell.”
Catalina grinned. “Thank you both, so much.”
Mira forced a smile. “This is your wedding, what you want, so we will make it perfect.”
Catalina nodded. “Yes. It’s what I want.”
Giovanni entered Villa Rosso with Dominic and Flavio following. “The Minettis will be here tomorrow. We will not have this unrest around the wedding.”
Dominic nodded. “I’ve already reached out to Angelo along with the other families to offer our assistance. Fish says the Calderone’s are divided. The old man is convinced it’s the Nigerians, but Angelo keeps questioning Lo’s involvement. And with the old man on his back, Angelo is calling the shots. ”
“I want this contained until after the wedding and our delivery from the Irish. We need this week.” Giovanni said, and the men nodded in agreement. Giovanni knew his cousin was reeling now. He’d cut off his balls. He should be on his knees thanking him for not taking his head as well.
Dominic headed for the door. He stopped. “I think you dec
ided fairly Gio. Lo is a brother, our brother. He deserves this chance.” He opened the door and left.
“Well it’s been an eventful morning. I need to make some calls.” Flavio rose from his chair.
“Wait.” Giovanni said.
He turned and looked over his shoulder, “Yes?”
“Mira Ellison. She’s staying here.”
“I see.” Flavio’s brow arched. “I hear you arranged to have her things moved in.”
Giovanni’s gaze lifted. “She’s important to me. I want her treated with respect.”
“How important?”
“Important.”
“She’s American. Black American. She doesn’t belong here, Gio.”
“But she is here.” Giovanni said flatly. “And I say she belongs.”
“Does she know who you are?”
“She knows enough.”
“And?”
Giovanni didn’t answer.
Flavio nodded. “We will talk more on this later.”
“No, we won’t.” Giovanni stood. “I won’t discuss her with you or anyone, and you won’t interfere with our… friendship. It’s non-negotiable. Are we clear?”
Flavio nodded. “Of course.”
Catalina sat on the stool next to Mira, watching as she ran the fabric through her sewing machine, reattaching the seams. She taught Catalina different ways to work with silks and satins. The young woman was a quick study. In return, Mira got some of the Italian lessons she’d been wanting.
“Who taught you how to sew?” Catalina asked.
“My grandmother.” Mira answered.
“Really, I never knew my grandmother.” Catalina returned the smile.
“What about your mother?”
“Oh, Mama sewed too. She made me dresses, but I never took the time to learn. I wish I had.” She said in a sad voice.
Mira looked over at her, “You miss her?”
“She was supposed to be here for this… I’m getting married and neither of my parents will be here to see it.”
“They’re here, just not in the way you would want.”
Catalina smiled. “You think so?”
“I do.”
Fabiana rose from her perch on a stool. “It’s getting late. I’m going to go find Lorenzo.” She smiled.
Catalina stood to stop her. “Tomorrow is my serenade. Make sure you are up for it.”
The girls looked at Catalina confused. Fabiana voiced the question first. “What serenade sweetie?”
Catalina beamed. “Franco and his family are coming. It’s a tradition that we will do. A surprise for Giovanni. Franco serenades me as his new bride. It will be right outside my window on the west side of the villa, around 7 in the morning. I’d like you to be there.”
“He comes here and sings to you?” Mira asked.
“Yes, part of the tradition is that we do not speak before the wedding. This is his way of communicating his love for me.”
“Damn, that’s hot!” Fabiana laughed, “I like it!”
Catalina nodded in agreement. “It’s really sexy. He comes here with his brothers and relatives, serenading me with either a violinist or someone on guitar outside my window. After the serenade my brother, as my guardian, is supposed to offer a ceremonial dinner to Franco’s family, thanking and welcoming them. Signora Clara has arranged the breakfast feast, but I wanted you two to be in the room with me when he comes, if that’s okay,” she grinned at Mira.
“I’m honored.” Mira looked to Fabiana, and both women blinked their surprise.
Catalina touched Fabiana’s arm. “You too, you have to be there.”
“I will set my alarm clock, sugar. I’m right there.”
“What other traditions will you be practicing?” Mira asked, continuing with her stitching of the fabric.
Catalina’s face beamed with excitement. Mira again had to wonder if the scene she saw between her and Dominic was real. The girl didn’t look torn over the wedding. She was bubbling with excitement.
“In America your custom is for the bride to have four things, something old, something blue, something borrowed, something new… right?”
“That’s right.” Fabiana answered.
“Those are customs borrowed from us Sicilians.”
“They are?” Mira asked surprised.
“Si.”
“So you have the same traditional things required.” Fabiana said smiling.
“I do, but ours have meaning.”
“What type of meaning?” Mira asked.
“I get five, not four. The first is something old which symbolizes the life I will leave behind. Giovanni gave me the pearls that Papa presented to Mama when I was born. They belonged to my nonna.”
“I bet they’re beautiful.” Mira said.
Catalina nodded. “They will look so nice with the bodice of the dress you’re designing. Absolutely perfect.”
Fabiana went to the chair across from them sitting back down. “What’s next?”
“There is something new which symbolizes the new life I will have. I was thinking of my wedding band; it's all diamonds. I decided it will be the new. Franco has the solitaire on him that matches it.”
“That’ll work.” Mira nodded. Turning to find the fabric pieces she cut earlier. “Go on.”
Catalina scooped her locks behind her ear and smiled. “Then there is something borrowed which represents the people dear to me who will be at my side as I move from my old life into my new one.”
“I have my pearl earrings with me, I’ll let you wear them.” Fabiana winked.
“Would you?” Catalina asked her eyes growing wide with excitement.
“Of course, they will work perfectly with your nonna’s necklace.”
Catalina clapped excited over the gesture, and the girls laughed as her excitement spilled over to them. Mira had never been this close to planning a wedding, and she was falling in love with Catalina and her enthusiasm. “There’s something blue! In ancient Roman times blue was the color of purity, and it was also the color of wedding gowns.”
“Women married in blue gowns?” Mira asked.
Catalina nodded. “Oh yes! It was a great honor, but a pagan custom. With Catholicism, tradition changed the gown into white as virginal, so the royal colors of blue and yellow were dropped from tradition. Which is why the bride still holds onto something blue for good luck. You Americans adopt our customs and don’t even know it,” she boasted.
Mira counted. “Well that’s four, the same things we American brides have to have. What’s the fifth?”
Catalina walked away and turned to face them smiling sweetly. “Something she has received as a gift from her papa. In this case, it will be Giovanni. It’s to remind me of the people that love me when I leave home with my husband. Giovanni hasn’t told me what it is, but I know you can find out.”
Mira put up both hands. “No way. Your brother is as old fashioned of a man as I have ever met; there is no way I'll spy for you. He’ll kill me.”
“I can’t figure out what it is! Please!”
Fabiana looked at Mira “We girls got to stick together. You can find out Mira.”
“Fabiana!”
“Aww, it’s not such a big deal. Really, I won’t say anything, and I promise to be surprised.” Catalina chided.
“Not going to do it.”
Catalina poked out her bottom lip. “Fine.”
“How about a compromise.” Mira said placing down the sheers. “I confirm that he has it and whether it’s big or small, so you will have a general idea.”
Fabiana smiled at Catalina. “That sounds fair. What do you think?”
Catalina cheered. “Perfecto!”
After sunset and her fingers were cramped, Mira too gave up and found her way to her room. She showered alone. She was dressing for bed when she heard the inside door open. She peeked out to see Giovanni arrive. She watched him go over to the bed and drop down on the edge exhausted, putting his head in his hands. He didn’t e
ven look up to see her watching.
“Tough day at the office, honey?”
He looked up at her and smiled weakly. “Cute.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Kneeling in front of him she parted his legs so she could ease in between them and look up into his face. “Maybe I can help?”
He lifted his face from his palms. Their eyes met. A small smile curled the corner of his mouth. “You are helping, by being here.” Giovanni sat upright. Bringing her from the floor to his lap, he kissed the inside of her neck. “I’m sorry your store is closed.”
“I have plenty of stores.” Mira smiled. “Besides, it’s only a setback. We might need a different building.”
“You accept things very easily, Mira, without question. That’s why I’m so fond of you.”
“Fond?” She brushed her lips over his. “Only fond of me?”
“I’m falling in love with you.” He said.
Mira drew away. “Love?”
“A man knows his heart, and I know I have never desired, trusted, wanted a woman more than you.” He stroked the side of her face. “Tell me that isn’t love.”
Mira escaped his lap. She nervously shook her head. “That’s too fast. I, we, that’s too fast.”
“For what? For you to accept us as a couple? For you to trust me?”
Mira paced. She and Kei had been together a year before she even said the word. How the hell could two weeks turn into love? It’s the country, the romance, the sex. All of it had her head in clouds, but she wasn’t reckless. She loved her newfound independence, her freedom to do and be whoever she wanted. She didn’t come to Italy for love. When she looked back to him her entire being seized with the emotions she discovered in his arms. “Let me ask you a question, Giovanni.”
He nodded.
“What is expected of… a woman, your woman, a woman in your life?”
“Expected?” he frowned.
“Let’s not pretend here. I sure as hell can’t. You are a complicated man with a complicated life. What happens to a woman you fall in love with?”
He rose. “What’s expected of any love? It grows.”