Bella Mafia

by Sienna Mynx

  Sera blushed.

  “I’m better,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’m going to help Mirabella and Marietta. I’ll find a way. It just won’t be the way you think.”

  “What does that mean?” Sera asked.

  “That diagnosis she asked you for. The one that proves that Marietta is mentally unstable. It proves Mirabella’s thinking straight.”

  Sera frowned. “How?”

  “If Mirabella commits Marietta to a psychiatric ward, she does two things. First, she saves her life and the life of that baby, because shooting a boss like Giovanni demands both their lives.”

  “And the second thing?”

  “Don’t worry about the second thing. That one is far more personal.”

  “I think we are beyond secrets now, Domi. What is the second thing she accomplishes?”

  “She lures Lorenzo out of hiding, so I can kill him.”

  Sera’s eyes stretched.

  “Good night, Doctor,” he said. “I expect you to start meeting with Marietta as soon as possible to give us that diagnosis.”

  Whatever her emotional conflict was she didn’t express it before he left. And Dominic didn’t force it.

  Mirabella shot up in bed. She was fresh from a nightmare. The room was dark. She scrambled out of bed and found her robe. She then hurried to her children’s room. They slept soundlessly. Still she feared something was wrong.

  “Giovanni?”

  Mirabella left her room. Leo had gone to bed. She knew he was just down the hall. She was grateful that no one was in the hall to see her in such a state. She needed space. She walked as fast as she could and ascended the stairs to the top floor. She reached her husband’s room half expecting to find him awake. If he were awake it would be the best thing ever! She smiled and opened the door.

  Marietta stood at the foot of Giovanni’s bed with a gun. Her sister looked over to her with tears in her eyes.“Look at what you made me do!” she said and pulled the trigger.

  Mirabella shot up in bed. The scream had wedged in her throat. Her mouth gaped open. She grabbed her chest because it hurt so badly from the tightness. Her face was covered in makeup. She still wore the dress she had on earlier in the day. Mirabella raced to the bathroom and went to the toilet. She tried to vomit but nothing came up. And then the phone rang near her bed. She got off the floor and checked the time. It wasn’t midnight yet, but still very late for a call directly to her bedroom. So few people had the number.

  When she returned to the bedside and answered she heard her voice squeak when she spoke. “Pronto?”

  “Did I wake you?” a man asked.

  “Tacchini?” she panted, still reeling from the nightmare. She touched her heart and felt it’s beating increase erratically. Was this what a stroke felt like?

  “Yes. You sound as if you were sleep.”

  “How did you get... this... my number?”

  “Giovanni gave it to me in case of an emergency. He said it was to your bedroom.”

  “So what is the emergency?”

  Tacchini chuckled.

  “I’m in no mood for this. What do you want?”

  “Straight to the point.”

  Mirabella hung up. She put her hands to her face. It was only a dream. Damn it. She couldn’t start slipping now. Not now. She was close to getting her plan in place. To helping her husband.

  The phone rang.

  “What?” she snapped when she answered.

  “We had arrests. A raid in Secondigliano. Several of Licciardi’s men, and a few of yours were picked up. Now the entire area is under siege by the polizia.”

  “Call Domi, he’ll deal with it,” she said and decided to hang up.

  “We need to deal with it, Donna. You and I.”

  “What can I do?” she sighed. “I’m tired of this.”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked alarmed.

  “I can’t talk to you right now. I need a minute to get my head... to be...” she sighed.

  “That’s why you have me. Let me help. Activate our gem. It’s time we bring her in. She can get us information on the investigation with the arrests. There’s an opportunity now to pin this on Licciardi. A small window. We must take it.”

  “Pin what?”

  “He’s trafficking again. Working with the N’drangheta and the Triad. Your men were taken in too. We need to point the dagger at Licciardi. Racchi will be easy to take down afterwards.”

  “What about my meeting with Arielle?”

  “It’s been arranged. If we position this right, the Camorristi will be their own destruction.”

  Mirabella sighed. “She’s here.”

  “At your home? Adara?”

  “Yes, her and Carlo had a...” Mirabella stopped herself from telling too much. “She’s staying with me. I can speak with her tomorrow.”

  “I need to see you,” he said.

  “I’m not coming back to Naples. It’s not safe for me.”

  “I’ll come to you. Neutral territory. Before and after you speak to her you will need me. I have a home, a private one in Massa Lubrense. Have you ever visited?”

  “No,” Mirabella said and sat back against the pillows.

  “It’s called Land of Sirens, Sirenusion. It’s said that the coast at night is haunted by the dead sailors lured to their deaths by mermaids.”

  Mirabella smiled. “Mermaids? Are you serious?”

  “I am. Mermaids in the sea would tempt them by singing. I am surprised you have never seen this place. My home is in the cliffs, from my terrace you can experience the beauty of the sea, and at night, a night like this, you can see the glistening jeweled tails of the mermaids swimming in and out of the waves under the moon.”

  “Sounds beautiful.”

  “And you sound tired. Do you ever do anything for yourself? Leave that ivory tower of yours?”

  “There are several Amalfi towns I have not visited. And my home is not a prison. It’s my home.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why have you not visited the Amalfi?”

  “We discussed this, I told you...”

  “It was your choice. I understand you believe that. But if you were honest you would know this was not a choice for you. A woman as beautiful and strong as you shouldn’t be kept locked away.”

  Mirabella closed her eyes and relaxed. His voice was deep and calming. Like Giovanni’s. She needed to hear Giovanni’s voice. Secretly she pretended. She wanted him to talk more. Tell her stories of mermaids and Roman warriors drowning in the sea. Or some other story that she could drift on.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Mmmm,” she sighed.

  “Maybe you need to get out of there. Just for a day. A minute away will you do some good. Give you time to recharge your battery. Heal yourself.”

  “I... yes,” she said.

  “Good,” Tacchini said. “I look forward to it. Sleep well, Mirabella.”

  “G’night, Piero,” she said and hung up. Mirabella wasn’t sure why she agreed. Part of her knew if she didn’t get out of Melanzana, and away from all the drama, something in her mind would snap. She needed a break. She needed a release.

  She settled into a shallow sleep. Her thoughts kept surfacing, and eventually she was awake again. She looked at the phone and almost called Don Tacchini. To hear him talk in that Italian accented voice that sounded so much like her husband’s. But she knew that would be a dangerous mistake. Frustrated, she turned over and reached for the dresser drawer next to her bed. She opened it and looked inside. Several large key rings were there. Mirabella reached for one. She removed it and stared at it. One of the keys was shaped funny, like an antique. It was the key to the mysterious storage room on the third floor. Mirabella put it back and closed the drawer.

  She found her robe and left her room. The house slept. She was able to reach Giovanni’s room without incident. Once inside she closed the door. Her husband lay still on the bed. Mirab
ella walked over to the bed and touched his foot. Nothing moved. She squeezed his big toe as hard as she could and still nothing. He didn’t even flinch. With tears in her eyes she started to undress. She left her gown and robe on the floor. She went over to his side of the bed and eased under the covers. She scooted as close to his body as she could. Once she laid her head on his chest her eyes closed and sleep came.

  The door shut to abruptly. Kyra eyes opened. Renaldo kicked off his shoes. She turned over and squinted in the dark. He took off his clothes and folded each item neatly. He then walked in naked to the bathroom. Kyra eased out of bed. She put pillows around her baby girl even though she was certain the now five-week old couldn’t roll over or off the bed.

  The shower turned on.

  Kyra removed her nightgown and went quickly to join him. When she entered the small bathroom she expected to find him in the shower. He wasn’t. He stood at the sink with his head bowed and hands gripping.

  “Something wrong?” he asked her.

  “No,” she replied.

  “Give me a minute.”

  “No,” she replied.

  The silent response from him was stifling. She ached to have him say something. Anything more. To see her husband in pain was a rare occurrence. He hid his emotions well. And then he lifted his face and she saw his face in the reflection of the mirror. Someone had hit him. The bruise hadn’t fully surfaced but she could tell by the swelling it was a terrible blow.

  “Renaldo?” she said and touched his back.

  “I’m fine cara,” he said.

  “I know what happened today. With Marietta. Everyone has heard the news.”

  Renaldo turned from the sink. The bathroom was so small and he was so tall she had to back up. The cold tile surface pressed into her back made her inhale sharply. That and the intense look of her husband. She reached up and gently touched his swollen jaw.

  Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “I’m here for you sweetheart. We’re here.”

  The tension coiled up in his muscular chest and shoulders seem to lessen. Stubble darkened Renaldo’s jaw. Even with the gum-ball swelling to his left jaw his face was a sculpted work of perfection. Some days she couldn’t believe someone so beautiful belonged to her. And his mouth was so sexy with his cruel wicked lips that gave orders and threats, but only spoke words of tenderness and love to her.

  “What do the doctors say?” he asked and she knew his torment. It had been five weeks since her daughters birth. The doctors advised another week before she could take care of him properly.

  “Not yet, sweetheart, Soon, next week I’m yours. I promise.”

  Renaldo dropped his head on the tile wall above her. She kissed his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I can take care of you. Let me,” she said.

  He lifted his head and looked down at her again. His cold facade snapped back into place. “No. Go to bed. I’ll shower and join you soon.”

  “But...”

  “I’m okay Kyra.”

  Hurt but understanding as always, she let him go and left the bathroom. She returned to bed and readjusted the pillows. Renaldo tended to her every need, but he was a hard man to comfort when he locked down his emotions from her. If there was any flaw in her marriage it was guarded suffering that he refused to share.

  Once he told her about life in the orphanage and the abuse he suffered. He shared how he became tough inside and physically for survival. That toughness would never go away.

  She eased into bed and waited. The shower turned off and he came out of the bathroom towel drying his hair. She stared at his beautiful body and cursed her own. Sex was something he never turned away from even in his darkest moments. And she missed being touched by him.

  Renaldo returned the towel to the bathroom before finding a pair of boxers to slip on. He eased into bed. He picked up their tiny daughter and lay her against his bare chest and then opened his arm to Kyra. She scooted over to him and snuggled into his strong warmth.

  “You did the right thing Renaldo,” she said. “Mirabella needed to know.”

  “Ti amo, cara,” he whispered.

  “I love you too sweetheart.” She lifted her head and kissed her baby girl. “I love our family.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  New Memories

  Sorrento, Italy

  Catalina woke at a late hour. Time no longer mattered. Her body was on autopilot to start her routine. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. She ran her comb through her tangles and found a rubber band to slick her locks down into a ponytail. And then she found a plain yellow tank top, but noticed it revealed her bandaged wrists. So she pulled on a long sleeve button down white shirt which she tied to the front, and slipped on her blue jean skirt.

  For two straight days, she dressed without thought of herself, of her family, and certainly not Dominic. However, today was different. She no longer felt the crippling grief and loss for her family. Her heart had gone numb to it all. Catalina sat in the room staring out the window. Another’s absence struck her. Where had Armando gone? Since her incident with cutting herself she hadn’t seen him. He didn’t come to her for sex. He didn’t share her bed. He’d disappeared. And she barely noticed.

  There was a knock at the door. Bionca entered. She wheeled in a food cart with a special delivery of breakfast. Catalina watched as the young woman went through her own routine of meal prepping for her.

  “Bionca?” she rasped.

  “Sì, signorina?”

  “Have you... have you seen Don Mancini?”

  Bionca glanced up. She lowered her gaze immediately. “Sì, signorina, I saw him this morning.”

  “So he is here?”

  “He is meeting with your cousin Lorenzo today.”

  “Oh?” Catalina said. “Has he asked about me?”

  “No, signorina,” Bionca said. “Should I tell him you want to see him?”

  “No, thank you, Bionca.”

  “Is there anything else signorina?”

  Catalina glanced to the food and fresh pot of coffee. “That will be all.”

  Bionca gave her a curt nod and left. Catalina’s gaze returned to the window. After a long contemplative moment, she abandoned her daily routine. Instead of tears, hand wringing, and cutting herself she undressed and went back to bed.

  ***

  “Well?” Lorenzo asked.

  “I had my doubts. I admit it. But you were right. Giovanni was side-dealing with Don Gambetta. My men intercepted the boat last night. We got enough weapons to start a world war.”

  “The guns are intended for the Armenians. Gambetta’s fishing ships help get them to Spain, and from there our contacts take them in.”

  Armando smiled. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think it would be this easy.”

  “Without my help it wouldn’t be,” Lorenzo said.

  Armando cut his gaze over to Lorenzo. Even seated in a wheelchair with a beaten leg, he possessed an air of arrogance that made him distrustful.

  Lorenzo continued, “Like I told you, I can stop the war. Gambetta is Giovanni’s strongest ally with the other Dons of Sicily. He’s the one Giovanni is using to take your territory, and stop your business deals. He’s the snake in the garden. My guess is the families don’t know that Gambetta is getting rich and cutting them out. What you have now, is not just a weapon to use against Gambetta, it’s the golden ticket to win Sicilia. It’s Giovanni’s golden ticket.”

  “And you just handed this over to me?”

  “Fuck no. I want something in return.”

  “Then it’s time we discuss terms.”

  “I want my family back. Not just my wife. I want Battaglia, even if Giovanni wakes up the damage is done. The Camorristi won’t trust him again. They need a stronger leader. That’s me. That’s why Marietta went home. I will run the Camorristi, and you will run Sicily. That is the bargain.”

  Armando had to admit Lorenzo was good at seducing that power-hungry beast that lived within him. Don Gambetta was des
perate now to find out what has happened to his guns.

  “I’ll take it from here. You can go,” Armando cut his gaze over to Ignacio who should be the consigliere giving him the insight. Instead he was just his sidekick and yes man with Lorenzo in the room. He needed a cunning ruler like Lorenzo at his side.

  “If the guns do not arrive, our contacts will alert the Armenians and they will assume two things. Either the family has stopped business because we are weakening. Or, the Gambetta's are trying to retake claim to Giovanni’s shipment for their own means. The Armenians don’t like to be fucked with. Gambetta and my family will be in trouble.”

  “And you expect what?” Armando asked.

  “Under Giovanni the Armenians were friendly, that relationship was controlled. But I was the one that went to Armenia and secured alliances. They respect me.”

  Armando scoffed.

  Lorenzo ignored his doubtful dismissal and continued. “The pennies Giovanni dropped to buy guns and send them into Spain through Gambetta is nothing compared to the candy Giovanni gets from the Armenians. “If you shut down Gambetta and you own Sicily—that’s the deal. No split with the old relics. You define the Mafiosi with me. I’ll handle the business with the Armenians going forward. But you will make the law in Sicily.”

  “How generous of you. Allowing me to make the rules,” Armando smiled. “I’m not stupid. All the Gambettas have to do is say that I stole what belongs to the Armenians and send them after me while you limp home before Giovanni wakes up.”

  “That’s the beauty of our working together. You have something I need, and I have something useful to you. Even trade, no swindle. Call a meeting. Bring evidence. Show the Dons proof of Gambetta and Giovanni’s treachery before the Armenians demand answers from the Gambettas. With Giovanni on his back, the Gambettas have so many suspects for hijacking his shipment he won’t look your way. Did you make sure you kept one of Gambetta’s men alive?”

  Armando nodded.

  “Good. Prep him for his confession,” Lorenzo said.

  It was a bloody good plan. He’d lose not only men in his own tribe to the war, but he’d gain a reputation that would surpass his father’s legacy. That was the sweetness to the deal, and Lorenzo knew it.