by Sienna Mynx
“Che cosa?”
“Exactly. Not sure what that girl is thinking. I’ve spent time with her but no time seems to be enough. And I’m so tired lately.” Mirabella reached down and picked up the puppy who was licking at her toes. She held the small dog and rubbed behind her ears to soothe her. Giovanni ate and digested the news without comment. His children needed their father. He needed Marietta’s baby to be born so he could finish this war with Lorenzo and return the balance in their lives.
“Do you need me to speak to Belinda?” he asked.
“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”
“I do worry. Eve is impressionable. I don’t want a bad influence around her.”
She chuckled.
“What’s funny? I’m serious.”
“There are plenty of influences in our life that aren’t necessarily ideal for children.”
“Matches! She could hurt herself or her brothers.”
“I know. I know. I just... never mind. I’ll handle it. My little project with Belinda isn’t working. I resisted sending her home. Now it’s time.”
“Too late.”
“What do you mean too late?”
Giovanni sat back. He cleaned the food from his teeth with his tongue and then took another drink. He stared at his wife. “You know what I mean Bella.”
“I’m sending her to America.”
“And I said it’s not safe.”
“America isn’t safe? How the hell does this extend to America? Can’t you control this war and keep it here in—”
“Lorenzo got to Wolfie.” Giovanni slammed his fist down on the table causing all cutlery to jump an inch from the surface. “He carved him up. First he’s missing an eye then they took his tongue and then his fucking balls before they slit him open.” He gestured with a finger across his throat. “And it happened in your precious America! Happy now? Have I explained it clear enough for you?”
Mirabella was stunned into silence. Giovanni didn’t know where his temper surfaced from. He was past the point of guessing. It was simply hard to keep the violence at bay. He was the violence. He was the rage. And every now and then Mirabella pushed him to confess it. He was sick of the duality of his life. There were times he did envy Lorenzo. For Lo, like it or love it, he denied nothing about himself. What was a killer with a heart? A dead man if he didn’t chose a side. And in this war with his cousin the side had been chosen for him. Mirabella shook her head in either shock or pity.
“Is family nothing to Lorenzo now?”
“Was it ever?”
“Between the two of you? At one time, yes. He was the man who found me in Switzerland, remember?”
Giovanni waved the memory off.
“He was there for you in the past. There were limits to this. A code of honor.”
“You saying I should remember the good days?”
“Stop yelling at me.”
“Lorenzo is going to pay for this. On my life, he will pay.” He kicked the chair next to him from under the table.
“What you do to him affects us all.”
“Bella? He’s in Sicily now thinking he’s won. Being treated like a king. He has Catalina, and he’s dealing my guns out of America with the Armenians. If I said it once I swear you and the rest of them will make me say it a hundred times. ‘I’.” He slammed his fist down. “Am.” He slammed his fist down. “Going to make him pay!” he shouted.
“Intenzione di ucciderlo. So, don’t ever, ever show me sympathy for my enemies. And if that’s too hard for you—” Giovanni swiped the dinner he was enjoying form the table. “—call in Leo take this shit and get the fuck out!”
Her eyes stretched in shock. He was too far gone to be done with the argument. “That’s the end of it. Until some more bullshit blows my way. Belinda stays. Everybody stays until I say it’s over. Everybody!”
Mirabella got up from the table. She put the puppy down and walked out of the dining room.
“Fuck!” Giovanni shoved the table and it slid several inches away. “Coglione! Sei un fottuto idiota!” he cursed himself. On the eve of the holiest day, he felt nothing but his rage.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
l'amore - The Love
Valle d’Itria, Puglia - Italy
THE DINNER SHE HAD prepared for him was ruined. He’d crossed the line. It happens in a marriage. Tonight, however, was the worst timing. When he found her she was dressing, having already packed up her things to leave.
“Bella?”
“I’m going home.”
“Please don’t go.”
“Too late. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be next to you. I sure as hell will not spend Christmas Eve away from my babies taking your abuse.”
“Abuse? I never abuse you!”
“What do you think that was? Cursing at me? For what? Asking you a question? Trying to understand? You know what Gio, this is your problem. Forgive me for thinking I could help with the burden. You’ll be doing this long after I’m gone. So why should I bother.”
“Gone? Where are you going?” he asked with a deep scowl.
“I dunno. But if this is our life I can’t stand it. I won’t. I gave it all up to you, my company, my family, my identity. And you act like you’re entitled to more. There is no more. This is it! This is my limit.”
“There is no limit between us. You are my wife.”
“Try me.”
Giovanni glared at her. He tried to reel in his anger, but he forgot how. All left of him now was brute force.
“I don’t need to try you Bella. This is it. You are mine. End of story.”
“You made promises to me too. And you’re changing. You’re mean, you’re angry, and I don’t like who you are anymore.”
“I’m entitled to be angry with my wife! I can’t always be smiles and fucking laughs with you. I have to be me.”
She sighed.
“If I want to distance—”
“You can’t have it.”
“You can’t control me Gio!”
“Watch me.”
“Jesus Christ. Why? Why are you like this now? Am I fool for believing we could come out of this sane? Am I?”
“No.”
“Then tell me something that won’t push me away. Anything. Tomosino couldn’t control Eve until he broke her. Is that what you want? To break me.”
“Stop with the dramatics,” Giovanni groaned.
“I’ll go. If this continues, I’ll take the kids and go.”
Giovanni smirked.
Mirabella stood her ground. Her gaze never wavered or faltered. She held his. A cold wave of fear began to move through him. If she ran from him she would be his mother, and he would be his father. Nothing on this planet would keep him from her and his children. Nothing.
“He’s not my brother. Did you know that?” Giovanni said.
“What?”
“He’s not my brother. Zia and Rocco are fucking liars. I’m the only son to Tomosino. Me!”
“What does that have to do—”
“It’s not true. All of you want me to believe it is to save him. To cast me as second choice, to make him the abandoned one. It’s a fucking lie!”
“Is that what this is? What the anger is? You think we chose the lie over you?”
He narrowed his eyes on her. Why did he always have to dig into her pity to recover her heart. He hated the weakness she believed about him. But he was corrupt enough to use it against her. He’d do anything to make her his and keep her faith in him. Even if he knew in his heart he didn’t deserve it.
“Did you? Rocco says it and all of it sudden it’s law. Rocco is the King of lies. Lorenzo could never be my brother. He could never be!”
“Okay sweetheart. If you say it’s a lie...”
“My father wanted a son more than he wanted anything. It ruled his pride. He kept my mother a prisoner to have me. To raise me. If Lorenzo was his, I would have never been conceived. And if I were I would be nothing next to him! Nothing
. That's the truth.”
She walked over and hugged him. He wanted to push her away but the stronger love he had for her caused him to pull her close. “I know the rest of the story. I’ve heard the story a hundred times. It took the death of your father and mother to give you the strength to fight for what should be yours. And yes. Lorenzo and I both destroyed the Camorra after years of you building it for your father. The way he wanted to rule it before he died. I’m sorry baby for believing in them and not you. If you say he isn’t your brother, then we’ll prove it.” She let go of him and cupped his face. “Stop being angry, it’s me. I’m scared this war between you two will cost us everything. I can’t lose you. Not again. Okay?”
He nodded.
She pressed her lips to his. And then she hugged him even tighter.
“Lorenzo is a fraud too you know?” she began. “All of this vengeance and brotherhood is bullshit, Gio. The war, the history of it all is bullshit. You’re not enough Sicilian, he’s not enough Sicilian. You can’t call the cops and have him arrested for killing Armando, for any of his crimes. He can’t call the police, and have you arrested for taking his wife and child. Bullshit. Vows, and oaths, and secrecy, and blood... none of it based on heritage and legacy. All of it is for pride and ego. You know what scares me now? Do you? You don’t talk about leaving this behind, about legitimizing the family. Not anymore. You’re all in again, Gio. That is what is killing you. We defeat our enemies and we bring you out. That’s the plan. It has to be. Because I’m not going to lose you to them.”
Giovanni didn’t bother to defend himself. He didn’t bother to answer. He squeezed her to him. “Take it back.”
“Take what back?” she asked.
“That you will run from me. That you would take my kids and hide from me.”
“Gio I only meant—”
“Take it back.”
“I’m not leaving,” she said. She kissed him. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. I can’t run from you. I tried that before. I vowed never to do it again.”
He never apologized. He was never taught humility, though his mother often tried. But he was deeply sorry, and he’d say it over and over again before sunrise to convince her. He pulled her down to sit on his lap. He buried his face against her breast and put his hand to her belly. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. He nuzzled his face between her breasts. He couldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t let her go. She’d punish him, but he’d punished her plenty in the past for her mistakes. He’d take it without complaint if she forgave him.
He squeezed her gently and deeply inhaled her sweet fragrance. Didn’t she know how the feel of her in his arms healed him? He rubbed his face between her breasts. Together they comforted each other on the bed. And Giovanni for the next few hours found peace in her arms. And then he made love to her.
“YOU HAVE TO LEAVE SOON,” he said and looked at his watch to confirm the time.
“It’s Christmas tomorrow.”
“Bella... if I can be there, if there is any way that I can, I will try.”
“That’s enough for me,” she said and looked up to kiss his chin. “You can’t blame me for loving you so much I want you with me for Christmas.”
“I can never blame you. Ever.” He pulled her up him to kiss her again. She talked about his men. The weaknesses she saw and the strengths. She talked about his plan to kill Lorenzo and make Marietta watch. And then she surprised him with an alternative. One that he’d never consider from anyone. One that could work with all the pieces he’s moved on the board. Without knowing about the Russians and the Puglia's she gave him revenge and a way to protect their bond. Because she was right. He didn’t want her life to be bullets and blood. The threat of her running from him cleared his head.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“It could work. But I’m not sure what the Generale will do.”
“Arrest you.”
“What?” he frowned.
“It’ll happen. I met him Gio. One day he’ll come. And when he does we have to be ready. What we do now can make sure that we are.”
Giovanni chuckled. “We live by Omertá.”
“We live by love, Gio. Our love. Don’t trust Omertá. Trust me. One day we will have to be ready. Protect us for that moment. Not just this.”
“I promise,” he kissed her. She grinned for him. He hadn’t seen a smile that broad from her in a long time. She gave him a tight hug.
“I have to go.” She escaped the covers before he could prevent her. He put his arms behind his head and watched her. She went to the bathroom first and cleaned herself up. And then to her bag to get out a pair of maternity jeans and button-down shirt. He watched her pack everything away except what she wanted to leave for him. And then she came back to the bed. Not to be with him. She came back to reach under one of the pillows and bring out a gun, her gun.
“Sorry. I forgot to move it when we... you know,” she gave him a sheepish grin. “You distracted me.”
He winked.
Mirabella tucked her gun in the back of her pants like she’d seen him do often. It made him chuckle.
“What? You think I don’t know how to use it?”
He put his hands up in surrender. “I never said that.”
The phone rang. Giovanni reached for it. It was a mobile phone he carried with him now. Only those closest to him had the number.
Mirabella swept her hair up in her hands. She’d forgotten her brush. The time with him in the shower had made her hair puff and frizz. She did the best she could to smooth it over. She used a hair band to put it into a thick ponytail. She watched him as he had a brief conversation with a caller. He hung up smiling.
“Good news?”
“I’m feeling the Christmas spirit.”
“You are?”
Giovanni nodded. “I’m granting your sister her Christmas wish.”
Mirabella stopped smiling. She stared at him confused.
“She wants to talk to Lorenzo. I think it would be good for her and the pregnancy if she spoke to him.”
“When I said you should try a different way I didn’t mean... what if she tells him where she is, or something? Before we’re ready?”
“It’ll be fine.” He tossed the covers aside and got out of the bed. She resisted asking more questions. He walked over and cupped her face. He kissed her lips. You are the best gift I could have this year. I’m the Godfather. I want the family to have a good Christmas.”
“Our anniversary is in two weeks.”
“And I will do everything to make sure I don’t miss it.”
“And Eve’s birthday is at the end of January.”
“Bella...” he groaned.
She hugged him tight. “I love you.”
“Prove it.”
“Gio! No.”
“Just a little bit Bella, It’s Christmas!” He picked her up and squeezed her ass. She laughed and let him carry her back to bed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Better then Enemy You Loathe
Albergheria - Palermo, Sicily
“NICKO? I’M HOME!” BIONCA set down the bags she carried in and removed her sweater. She closed the door to their apartment. In the late evenings before she arrived home her husband Nicolas picked up the kids from her mother’s after leaving his job at the fishing factory and got them ready for bed. She of course made sure to bring her family some of the food she slaved over at Mancini’s to warm their bellies before bedtime. The worst part of her working for the Mancini’s now was her own baby. The bambina was now five months old and her breasts ached constantly to feed her daughter.
Bionca paused. The inside of her apartment was silent. Too silent. With three kids under the age of six she had never known it to be so quiet before bedtime.
“Nicko?” she said. “Are you here?”
No one answered.
It was Christmas Eve. She had Christmas day off. Nicko had left work early to get the presents for the kids and they were going to decorate the tree. He had
to be home. She wondered if he’d given the kids a nap and fallen asleep as well. She set down her purse and picked up the bags of food and walked past the small living room area to turn the hall toward the kitchen.
Bionca dropped the grocery after a gasp of fright. Seated at the small kitchen table was her husband still in his work boots with her three-year-old son, Nicoli on his lap. Her six-year-old daughter Ella sat next to him in a chair. Across from him was her hateful and evil cousin Umberto. He looked at her with no expression on his face. And another man sat at the table. Those gathered were not terrifying. It was those standing that made her heart beat faster. Three men with guns stood in the kitchen. The fourth one paced while feeding her baby from a bottle. The man was Dominic Battaglia.
“Join us Bionca,” The consigliere said.
Nicko lifted his gaze to her. He looked worried. And from what she knew of Dominic Battaglia they should be. Her daughter, Ella got out of her chair and rushed over to hug Bionca’s knees. Bionca couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Fear sat on her chest heavier than a two-ton stone. It pressed down harder and harder constricting everything.
There were several reasons she needed to be alarmed. The Battaglia’s were banned from Palermo. Everyone knew that if a Battaglia was spotted outside of Bagheria to alert the Mancini’s. And this was Mancini territory. The second reason for concern was her cousin Umberto. He was cast out from her family after stabbing his brother and nearly killing him. To make matters worse he hooked up with Carlo Battaglia and offered his alliance to Giovanni. Umberto betrayed a hundred years of shared legacy with the Mancini’s by leaving and joining with Giovanni Battaglia. He broke his mother’s heart and caused the death of his father because of the betrayal. Umberto was a selfish bastardo and should be spat upon on sight.
“What’s her name?” Dominic smiled.
“Baby,” said her three-year-old from his father’s lap.
Bionca found her voice. “Her name is Mary.”
“Aaah... Mary, that is lovely.” Dominic paused from his pacing and rocking of the child. He stared at her. “Have a seat, Bionca. You and I should chat.”