by Mynx, Sienna
Rocco and Zia Carlotta left Mira to stand at Giovanni’s side. Her gaze drifted across the room, and she saw Fabiana in a corner talking to Lorenzo. The swelling to Lorenzo’s jaw and eye was ghastly. How he managed to smile at Fabiana and the other guests with all the bruising was beyond her.
“Bella, Prego. Have something to eat. I’ll come find you.” Giovanni kissed her hand and walked off.
Alone. She glanced around and found herself again being stared at from every corner of the room. She walked toward the buffet. Fruit, pastries, and sliced meats and cheese were arranged in a colorful display. All she wanted was coffee.
“Looks great doesn’t it?” A soft voice drifted through to the left of her.
Mira looked over to the woman she’d noticed earlier sipping on cappuccino. Gabriella had a thick accent but spoke English well enough.
“Yes, it does.”
They remained next to each other in shared uncomfortable silence. “The place is decorated beautifully. I’ve never actually been inside Melanzana. You know how Giovanni is about bringing women here.”
“Actually, I don’t. I’ve stayed here for the past week, by his request of course.”
“Ah yes!” Gabriella exclaimed. “He brought you here to design the wedding dress. I heard all about it.”
Mira cut her eyes and didn’t bother responding. She knew Gabriella was fishing for something, and she had no intention of giving it to her.
“Are you enjoying your stay in Italia?” she pressed. “How long are you here? In Italia I mean.”
“For as long as he likes.” Mira smirked. “Excuse me.”
“Of course.”
Mira walked straight for Fabiana and Lorenzo.
“Hi!” Fabiana said.
“Lorenzo. How are you?”
He chuckled. “I’ve had better days.”
Fabiana touched his arm. “He’s much better than he looks.”
“What happened?”
Lorenzo sipped his juice and placed it back on the table. “I fell. Clumsy in this big ole place in the dark.” Mira glanced to Fabiana who pleaded with her eyes to drop it. She looked away. Giovanni was with Catalina now. He had her in his arms laughing. She considered Catalina’s secret. Her fear that Giovanni would kill his surrogate brother if their affair was ever revealed seemed like a real danger.
Catalina held his hand. They walked across the lawn toward the garden path. Two tents were erected for the family but most crowded the terrace. He glanced once more to Mira who sat at a table with Fabiana and Lorenzo. He had the boys teach Lorenzo a lesson but forgot to remind them not to make it so damn obvious by pounding on his face. The Minettis were present. He could see Franco with his brothers laughing and talking. Franco wasn’t allowed to speak to his bride, so they were kept separated, heavily monitored by Signora Clara, but Giovanni could see Catalina and Franco exchanging shy smiles and glancing to each other often. His father had chosen well. Franco would be a good husband for his sister.
“How are you Catalina?” Giovanni asked her during the stroll.
“A little nervous.” She rested her head in the crook of his arm, sliding her arm around his waist.
“I want to talk to you.” Giovanni began. He stopped and turned her to face him. “You know I love you. La mia principessa.”
“I love you too, Giovanni. You have taken such good care of me since Mama and Papa died. I’m happy.”
The love he had for her consumed him. She was his mother’s daughter. Had her beauty, and spirit. She made his ache for his sweet Mama lessen each day. He could never let her go, and he spoiled her rotten to ensure her love for him remained unchanged. “Are you sure you’re ready for this step?”
Catalina nodded. “I trust you Giovanni, I understand why Papa wanted me to marry Franco. He’s nice and I like him. This is what I want.” She rose on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
Giovanni stared at her in amazement. His kid sister was a woman now. He saw it in her eyes and heard it in her voice. She was barely a teen when they lost their parents. Other than Zia, Catalina had no women in the family really willing to take her in and teach her tradition and their ways. Yet she bloomed into the belladonna that she was supposed to be, and he couldn’t’ be more happy. He had at least got one thing right, protecting and preserving her innocence, keeping her untouched from his world.
“Do you know that Mama and Papa would be so proud of you?” He touched her cheek.
“Yes, I do, and Papa would be proud of you too, Giovanni. You have taken care of us all, and I know it mustn’t have been easy. Now it's time for you to take care of yourself. After I’m gone, I want you to start a family of your own. You love her, don’t you?” she asked.
Giovanni looked past her to the dining area and thought of Mira. Looking back into his sister’s eyes, “I believe I do.”
“She’s great. A little pushy, but I think she’s great.” Catalina chuckled.
“Enough about me. Today is your day. It’s time I give you your wedding gift,” he said. “I’ve also spoken to Franco, and he has accepted on your behalf.”
Catalina grinned. “What is it?”
“My gift to you and him is your own villa here in Sorrento, plus your dowry will provide for him to expand his father’s bottling business in Napoli. You won’t be going to Palermo.”
Catalina leapt at him, and he caught her in his arms. She hugged his neck tightly. “Grazie amore di I esso!”
Giovanni lowered her to the ground. “I couldn’t let you go to Palermo if you wanted so desperately to stay.” He kissed her on her cheeks. Yes, he indeed did this for selfish reasons. His anxiety lessened at the thought of keeping his sweet Catalina near, so he could protect her always.
“I am so happy!” she wept. “Does Lorenzo know? Did you tell him?”
“He knows.”
“I must see him. I love you both so much!”
Before he could stop her she bolted for the terrace. Giovanni walked behind her. She found Lorenzo seated with the ladies and plopped into his lap. Hugging and squealing, it took a moment before she noticed how he winced, and the bruises on his face. Giovanni approached as she removed Lorenzo’s sunglasses from his face. “Who did this?” Catalina shouted.
“It’s nothing.” Lorenzo said.
Catalina rose from his lap. She whirled on her brother with her bottom lip trembling. A hush fell over those gathered. “Did you see what they’ve done to him? Do you see? You punish who ever hurt him, Giovanni. You punish them good!” she said angrily.
“That’s enough, Catalina.” Zia marched over and took her by the hand. She shot Lorenzo and Giovanni a withering glare before dragging a weeping Catalina away.
“Drama Queen! That’s what we called her as a bambina,” Lorenzo chuckled and the men all laughed. Mira stared at Giovanni, and he made a point to not return her stare. Lorenzo rose.
Lorenzo kissed Fabiana. Without a word he walked off the terrace and Giovanni followed, as they circled the building they fell in step with each other. It was his cousin who spoke first.
“How can we get past this?”
“I don’t trust you.” Giovanni said. “I haven’t heard one single reason from you why I should.”
“I’m your blood, your brother.”
“You’re a fucking stain. The only reason why you’re still breathing is out of respect for our fathers. Don’t push me Lo, because I’m not stupid. It makes no sense that you would become Giuseppe’s pawn against my wishes. He either has something on you or you’re guilty of more than you confessed. I struggle with how to not cut your lying tongue from your mouth with every breath you take.” Giovanni stopped. They were far enough from earshot.
“I fucked this up royally. I’m done with the lies Gio. I’m standing here exposed. I respect you, the family, the honor we share. Enemies are circling. Angelo Calderone wants blood, and the Nigerians aren’t going to sit back and be bystanders. You need to trust me again. I will earn it. But don’t cut off
my balls. I am the last of your blood. La vostra famiglia. Flavio is not! He will never love you like I do, protect you as I would. You can’t shut me out. Not when we are destined for war.”
Shaking his head sadly in response to Giovanni’s silence he looked away, “It can’t come to this.”
“It has. After the wedding I want you out of my sight. Domi will work with you to see my plans through. But you and I, our brotherhood, it’s done.”
Lorenzo smirked. “So I report to Domi? He’s finally got to be at your side.”
“He’s more loyal than you’ve ever been. I can trust Domi. He may be the only man I can trust.”
“I have one request. I created this mess, and the men will not respect you if you just banish me. They will question your leadership. Let me get into the ranks with them and take out Calderone.”
He nodded in agreement.
Lorenzo turned and walked away. Giovanni released a deep burdened sigh and headed in the opposite direction.
****
The breakfast went off with much celebration, and Giovanni gave a toast welcoming the Minettis into the family, assuring them that this union will make them all stronger. He saw little of his Bella. When he inquired he was told by Zia that she was upstairs working on the dress for the wedding. Soon the gathering of men drew him away. For the next three days he spent the morning and evenings dealing with family matters, and no time with her. When he arrived at night, he’d stand near the bed and watch her sleep in the dark. He would watch the way she exhaled her sweet breath and her chest rose and fell, to the delicate expansion of her small nostrils when she inhaled. Beauty, unmatched by any woman he’d ever dared to share his heart with.
In the mornings Flavio would be at his side reminding him of his responsibilities. He wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Tonight his return had him aching to see her, talk to her. He only now understood how dependent he’d become on her.
Giovanni was disappointed to find her gone from the room they shared. For a brief moment panic settled in his gut, and he feared she’d left him and returned to her life. After all, he couldn’t possibly think closing her store and moving her things upstairs would bind her to him. She could wake and walk away from him, and he’d be powerless to prevent it. To his relief, she hadn’t done so. His men informed him that she worked on the dress still. He headed to the third level in search of her.
And it was true. She had turned that boarded off section of his home into a little design factory. Fabric rolls, shears, sewing machines and other instruments he couldn’t name were all inside. Giovanni found her standing in front of the dress mannequin. It wore the most beautiful of gowns. He watched silently as she continued with hand stitches to the beaded bodice at the front of the dress. She had only one lamp on next to her, casting her in what looked like candle light. At her feet were cut pieces of cloth and a bag of beads she plucked from.
Tonight she’d chosen a red spaghetti strap slip dress that stopped mid-thigh, and was made out of a stretch material which flattered her figure. Gone were the wrap around dresses he loved. Still this one was just as sexy to him.
The sewing needle dropped. She bent at the waist to pick it up and the skirt rose, revealing more of her thighs, and her ass became a rounded sculpture of perfection.
“Amore mio.”
Words he thought he said in his head were actually spoken aloud. Mira shot up right with a startled cry and looked behind her. “You’re back?”
“I’m back.”
“Three days, and I barely see you. Now you’re back?”
He felt a pang of regret. “Forgive me.”
She narrowed her eyes on him, and he entered with a sly smile. “Is that Catalina’s wedding gown?” he asked approvingly.
Her anger melted on her soft features and the light of love he found in her eyes gleamed like amber colored jewels. In fact he could see her swell with pride as she stepped aside so he could see the dress in all its glory. His bella was talented, far more talented than he ever gave her credit for. The dress was stunning. “Do you like it?” Mira asked.
“Bellissima,”
Mira turned to the table next to him and picked up the veil. “I know you may not approve of the low neckline but I did make the veil long enough according to your customs to block her from view. I even cut it the edges as instructed for good luck, per Signora Clara,” she smiled.
“I appreciate it, Bella.” He accepted the veil from her hand, moved closer to her, and placed it back over to her left on the table.
Mira tried to gauge if he was drunk, upset, or anything else to account for the reason she hadn’t seen or spoken much to him in the past two days. He directed his blue eyes back to hers. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He reached and touched her neck then allowed his fingers to trace the curve as it connected to her shoulder, stopping at the thin strap of the dress holding her bosom up. He eased a finger under the strap and lowered it. Mira looked to her shoulder to see it slip off then back to his eyes. She said nothing but her heartbeat quickened from the look of wild, unbridled lust in his blue eyes. “I hated not seeing you these past few days.” He admitted.
“Me too.” She confessed.
He took a step toward her.
“Did you miss me?” he asked softly.
“Of course. Our time together isn’t long. Before you disappeared I wanted to talk to tell you my news.”
“Tell me now.”
“I have to return to New York, then possibly Milan. After the wedding.”
He put his finger to her lips silencing her. “That’s not the news I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that you decided on us, to be mine.” Using his other hand he hooked another finger to the other strap, drawing it off her shoulder and her right breast was exposed to the nipple. Giovanni’s brow arched. He assisted in peeling the fabric downward over the swell of her breast. She didn’t wear underwear. She had showered, put on the dress and come upstairs to finish her work.
“Cara, you are never far from my thoughts. Forgive me for disappearing, I wanted to be here. Don’t leave to punish me.”
“I’m not. It’s business, can’t you understand that?”
He lowered his face to her neck, running his tongue over her vein that delicately pulsed underneath her silky skin, and she tilted her head back welcoming him. Sliding his hand down her backside, he cupped her buttocks pushing her into him. Mira wrapped her right leg around his waist, feeling his strong muscular thigh press in on her achy core.
“I need to be inside you.” His hands gripped her hips. She lowered her leg and tugged, yanking the dress down her curves, causing it to drift down to her feet. Again their eyes met. He advanced on her until she walked back and bumped up against the cool glass of the seal of the window. A slight shiver crept over her skin. Mira realized she was nude, and ever so vulnerable to him. She was angry dammit. He had disappeared for days and she missed him terribly. All she was left with was the highly emotional Catalina, and Fabiana who had become secretive and distracted. The wedding planning had been a stressful ordeal with her and Fabiana fumbling over offending one person of the Battaglia family then the other. And he barely blinked at her announcement of leaving. Did he not believe her, or just not care?
His forehead dropped on hers and his hands rubbed up and down her hips before lifting her to the windowsill, and only part of her rested on the edge. The kiss was soft and gentle. On command her thighs parted, and her hand sought the buckle to his belt. His lips caressed hers, her chin, her neck and then her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. With her back pressed to the window she could barely get his zipper down. Her actions and his became a bit desperate, and she freed him into her shaky hands, stroking his engorged length.
“Put me inside of you.” He said in a gruff, almost desperate voice, but she kept stroking. Giovanni’s head dropped back from pure pleasure. The tendons and muscles in his neck became profound and his jaw rigid with restraint. Again his cock felt like velve
t over steel in her hands. She guided him to her core. Giovanni forced her legs up with both arms, and they hooked around at odd angles before he delivered a powerful thrust and entered her.
Mira steadied her breathing, listening as his became more ragged. He pushed his way deeper with thrusts strong and sure, while his piercing blue eyes once again focused on her before he parted her legs even wider and lowered them to admire their coupling. “Yes.” she exclaimed, thrust after thrust, her head smacking the windowpane. She writhed against him. He remained fully dressed with his pants still drawn up. She clawed at his shoulders and her nails scraped down the silk threads of his shirt. Her thighs began to quiver and she could feel the tickle of his silky pubic hairs against her clit, drawing out the orgasm she wanted to hold back on. He showed her no mercy, rotating his hips and screwing her to the bitter end. He sucked at her neck so hard she winced. “Don’t! Don’t…leave a mark.” She pleaded. She couldn’t be paraded around his family with the love bites on display. It was hard enough to not take the constant stares and whispers when she entered a room personally.
Ignoring her he pushed both her thighs back until her knees almost touched the windowpane and pounded his own needs into her. The intensity of his lovemaking had her fearing they’d burst through the glass as it rattled from his forceful demands, pinning her against it. Her cries for mercy increased and so did his grunting, and ragged breathing in her ear, before he covered her mouth with a deep kiss, his tongue lashing across hers. He went on for so long she marveled at his strength and self-control. His sweat dampened body had his shirt sticking to him and his face glistening with moisture.
Again his head dropped back, and together they both shuddered hard, teetering on the verge of an explosive climax. Just when she thought she could stand no more Mira felt the rush of his seed as he erupted inside of her, flowing and coating her womb with his love. He let go of her thighs, which she lowered gratefully. He withdrew and the separation tore at her heart. How much more of this could she stand? She eased off the window and avoided the satisfaction in his smirk. She found her dress and slipped it on immediately, ignoring the sticky drip of their mingled sex wetting her inner thighs.