by Sienna Mynx
“Octavio Leone was never my father,” Marietta said dryly.
“He was shot in the back of the head leaving Smithy’s bar, and his body dumped behind it. You know it. The old dive off Crescent street.”
“Yeah I know it,” Marietta mumbled.
“The police still can’t figure out who was responsible. I checked. Your mom, ah, your adoptive mother has moved to New York with her sister. It’s all so fucked up. Random.”
“I don’t care about either one of them. Dead or alive.” Marietta said.
“Sorry for bringing it up, girl.”
“You will have a great time. Italy and the Campania is the most romantic place in the world.” Marietta smiled.
“Romance huh? Well I can believe that, if all of the men look like Mr. Sexy up there. Does he speak English? Pass me my translation book!”
Marietta laughed. “You so damn crazy! I’m going to love having you here!”
**
There were times when Catalina found it hard to recall all of Mirabella’s wishes from notes and previous phone conversations. On the eve of Mirabella’s return, the biggest test of Catalina’s career was at hand. Self-doubt and fear crept in. She had difficulties now making the simplest decisions. She had to get it together.
“Yes, Catalina. We can definitely do this for you. I’ll see to it personally. But may I suggest we go with the pre-season selections you and Marietta chose for the opening? It was something Mirabella mentioned on her phone call. I think it may be an expectation.”
“Mmm, I’m not sure,” Catalina’s gaze lifted from the sketches before her in time to see Dominic and his men arriving. She stood upright and straightened her skirt. “Clara and Mateo, I need a moment please.”
“Sí, signora,” her assistants nodded and gathered the plans they brought in for her review. Dominic held the door for them to pass through. He had to know of Armando’s visit. Would he be angry? Would he be disappointed in her? Either way she was nervous and a little afraid. The ruling emotion was guilt. And even now she couldn’t quite determine what she was guilty of.
“Ciao, my love,” Catalina said. “I am so happy you’re finally here!”
“Why was Armando Mancini here?” he asked.
The question stopped her approach. Catalina glanced to the men who were behind him. They glared at her. The damn bastards couldn’t wait to give her up. “You just got here and that’s the first thing you have to say to me?” she asked. She walked over and put her arms around his neck. “Ciao, mio amore… let’s greet properly.”
The last of her words were smothered under the press of his lips. She glanced over his shoulder at his men and they turned and walked out. She rose on her toes to welcome him with her tongue. His breath was warm against her mouth. And the feel of his body pressed against hers was what she craved. His kiss felt tender, forgiving. It delivered the sweet remembrance of the promises they made to one another. No girl on the planet deserved to be as lucky. When their lips parted he cradled her face in his hands and looked at her with so much love she blushed. “How’s my girl?” he asked her.
“Bennisimo. I’m so glad you’re back.”
“I was only gone a few days,” he chuckled.
“So you didn’t miss me?” she asked.
“Of course I did,” he kissed her once more. He released her face to wrap her up in his arms. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her ass.
Catalina shivered. She was so horny she had a mind to take him to the bathroom and reunite properly. “I know, but still, I need you.” It was the truth. She took good care of Dominic Battaglia, her future husband. Whenever he could plant himself in Milano between business trips, she made sure to be the dutiful fiancée. And the pressure eased on her for a wedding date. However, Catalina was far from naïve. She knew after two years of delaying the inevitable she couldn’t hold his desire to wed off much longer.
“Now. I want an explanation. You requested a meeting with Armando Mancini. Why?” he asked.
Catalina let go of him. She looked up into his eyes. “I didn’t.”
“What do you mean you didn’t? You told the men you invited him here,” Dominic said.
She stepped back. “I didn’t, Domi. He just showed up.”
“Mannaggia!” Dominic paced away.
“It really wasn’t bad, Domi. He wanted to ask that I speak with Mirabella. He asked for a favor.”
“Who is he to ask a favor of you?”
“He told me that Marietta invited him to the party in Bellagio,” she said. Dominic stared at her. She continued. “He wanted me to speak to Mirabella to see if it was okay with her. He didn’t want to come and make it a problem with the family. Especially on their birthday.”
“If this is truly what he wanted then he should speak to Gio about the impropriety. He knows this. He’s fucking with me by coming here to see you.”
“You? It had nothing to do with you?”
“Really?” Dominic lowered his brows. “Are you telling me it had everything to do with his wanting to see you?” Her sweet lover tensed. Dominic didn’t rise to anger quickly. But she’d learned with Franco that if a man got in between them and hurt her in any way he wouldn’t hesitate. Armando Mancini was a Don. He shouldn’t be challenged over some petty jealousy.
“No. No of course not. Oh Domi, stop. It wasn’t that sinister. He’s trying to find a way to make this work with our families. He hasn’t gone public about the twins. He keeps the family secret. Giovanni may have told the men in the family, but the press and the world still don’t know that Mirabella is a Mancini. Isn’t it wise for us to come together and manage the risk of how the truth comes to light? Armando coming to the party is a good start.”
Dominic waved off her logic. “Fuck him. Che palle!”
Catalina waited. She watched Dominic pace in front of her. There was no need to try to reason with him when he was like this. She let him decide on what to do next. He stopped pacing and looked over at her. “How much longer here? I want to take you to lunch. I want to spend some time with you.”
Catalina nodded in agreement. “I’ll go with you now. No problem. Wait!”
“What is it now?” he asked.
“What time does everyone arrive? I need to make sure everything is ready for them.”
“They won’t be here until late in the afternoon. You’re mine now,” he smiled.
“Andiamo!” She kissed him. “Then let’s skip lunch. Take me home so I can welcome you properly.” She squeezed his groin. He chuckled and nodded in agreement.
**
A hand pressed against her lower back. Mirabella wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and continued to slice through the tenderloin. She’d warm and sauté the meat, then make fresh panini’s for lunch.
“What is it, sweetie?” she asked.
The touch was that of a man’s. No man in or out of this family ever touched her but Giovanni. When he didn’t answer she glanced back. He stared into her eyes. She put down the butcher knife and turned to face him. He took her by the hand. Without a word he walked her away from her tasks. Zia glanced up. She was cutting fruit for the salad and chatting with Ana the cook who sat at the table rolling pasta with her hands. They both ignored the Don’s mission to steal away his wife. He walked her into the hall and to the first room they came to that offered privacy. It was a guest room on the lower level. The moment she entered she was pushed up against the door and it closed.
“I have meetings today,” he said with a soft groan of regret. He brushed his lips over hers. He kissed her cheek. Mirabella held to his side.
“I know. I was working on lunch. I’ll send some sandwiches for you and the men.” She touched the side of his face. “Make sure you eat. Please. We’ve got a busy day with our traveling out to Milano.”
“About last night?” he said. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you, Bella,” he shared with her. His hand rubbed up her thigh. She wore blue leggings and a long, loos
e-fitted, white button down shirt. He started to push loose each of the buttons.
“Gio, I can’t, not right now. We both have so much to do before we leave,” she reasoned. When his lips brushed her neck she fell silent. He lifted her by the hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he turned and carried her to the bed.
“I’ll be quick, Bella. Just a taste and I’ll let you go.” He and she went down on the bed together.
She grabbed his face. “We should have taken a shower together. That would have worked. I’ll have to shower all over again.”
“Shhhh…” He kissed away her protests. “I want to fuck you right here, right now, say yes.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
He pulled down her leggings until they were snatched from her ankles. She helped by rolling her panties off her hips and down her legs, kicking them off her feet. He drew his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He undid his trousers and let them drop. His erection had nearly punched through the front of his boxers. Mirabella tingled with excitement.
Giovanni dropped on her before she could remove her shirt. It didn’t matter. All she craved in the moment was him. It was always like this between them after they’d been separated. Marietta and Catalina didn’t believe her when she said she made love to her husband every night. No exceptions.
There was no woman on the planet that excited him like his wife. Each time he fucked her it felt as sweet as the first. He thrust into her. Mirabella gave a thin soft moan. She gripped his arms to steady herself as she simultaneously pushed her pelvis down on his thrust so she could take him in deeper. They were on the edge of the bed. He eased up on her and brought her left leg up and over to press it down on her right. She gripped the sheets as he thrust into her again. And even though she was pinned into position she was ready. He rocked his cock into her and her tight little cunt lips tugged and clenched to draw him even further.
“Yes!” she cried out in joy. It was easy to turn her over so that she was on her stomach as he slipped out of her. She crawled on the bed on all floors. He staggered, a bit dazed by the pleasure. But he came behind his wife, gripped her by both hips, and plunged into her again. He gave her sharp thrusts that churned within her silky walls. Giovanni’s balls tightened. He gritted his teeth. Every sensation felt amazing. And the sounds they made when fucking fanned the flame of his wild obsession to posses her. Wet slaps sounded at his belly and thighs as he slammed into her pussy over and over. He started to tease and play with her clitoris while fucking her with targeted strikes. Mirabella’s entire body shivered and short breath pleas for mercy filled the room.
Her back dipped.
Her pussy convulsed around his dick, squeezing him with strong rhythmic pulses that made a chump out of him. He broke. “Shit!” he cried out and dropped on her. His weight drove them flat to the bed. He kept rising and falling in and out of her pussy until every ounce of his seed was spent.
“Bella, Bella, Bella,” is all he kept repeating.
He lifted off her for fear of causing her discomfort. She rolled to her side and held herself. He spooned with her and held her to him. They both lay on their side, trying to capture their breaths.
“Gio, you’ll be late for your meeting,” came her soft, sweet, caring voice.
He closed his eyes and smiled. “Fuck the meeting. Run away with me. I’ll get the jet and we can be in France tonight. Just me and you. Somewhere alone, forever,” he breathed.
She laughed. “And our children?”
“Oh? Yeah, bring them too,” he panted.
She turned over and hugged him. He held her close to his heart. “Sounds like you are in love with your wife,” she said.
“I am. I love you, Bella. Ti amo,” he kissed her brow.
“Clean up and go to your meeting. I need to finish lunch.”
“Wait! Let Zia do it,” he tried to pin her down. She eased from under him. She smiled and he groaned over the loss of her. He watched as she put on her lace panties. He thought to ask to keep them, but it might distract him if he sat in his meeting sniffing them all evening.
She pulled up her leggings. She blew him a kiss and was gone. Giovanni touched his deflated dick. He lifted his head to look at it. If he could get it to rise again he’d kidnap her to another room and do it all over again. Nothing happened. He slapped it and it fell limply over to his thigh. “Fuck!” he groaned.
**
“Is he here?” Giovanni asked. He rolled his cigar between his thumb and pointer finger. The ash lengthened but didn’t flake away. His mind once again conjured images of his wife masturbating for him. He smiled.
“He just arrived. Carlo and Nico will bring him in.” Lorenzo frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“Funny?” Giovanni asked.
“You’re smiling,” Lorenzo said.
“Nothing. Nothing,” he took a drag from his cigar.
Lorenzo took a seat across from Giovanni in the other chair. The sitting room in Villa Rosso was Bella’s idea. She did a little decorating and remodeling. Despite his initial protests, he liked the improvements over the musty office where he usually conducted his business affairs. Here in this extension to his villa, were large leather sofa chairs and an air filtering system for his cigars. The tall windows on either side let natural light in and gave him an obstructed view of Melanzana where his wife and bambini slept. If he stood and went to the other side of the room he could see the land and horses he kept. It soothed him and put his visitors at ease.
“Gio? About this fighter in Bergamo.”
“I want to see him. It might be a good investment, Lorenzo.” He looked up and he could read his cousin’s disapproval. Giovanni sighed. “What is your objection?”
“I think you and I agree that we need legitimate affairs, it’s wise that we don’t let our attentions divide too quickly. Too much exposure may not be wise now. We already have the press at our door.”
Giovanni chuckled and exhaled tobacco smoke. “I have no intention of forgetting what we have planned for the triangle. Boxer or no boxer, I won’t be divided on the direction of this family again. I have you to thank for that.”
Lorenzo smiled. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
“We always have. The bullshit is behind us. I lost my way. Forgot what was important. You kept me from losing the Camorra and the respect my father found here in the Campania.”
“I’m your brother.”
“No,” Giovanni shook his head. “You’re more than a brother. You’re my best friend. I punished you for your rebellion in the past. But I see now I was to blame for some of it. You deserve respect.”
Lorenzo smiled broadly. Giovanni shook his head and took another long drag from his cigar. He spoke through his exhale.
“You will be heard, on everything. I trust you enough, Lo, to give you back your voice.”
“Grazie,” Lorenzo replied.
“As for Mancini.”
“I’m working on it, Gio. I think there is more to consider than just a truce. Think of it. The women are blood to Mancini. If you were to take him down, after all these years, it would be within your right.”
Giovanni sighed. “I don’t trust him. But the war between us as kids is over. I’m not interested in moving in on the Sicilians.”
“Aren’t you?” Lorenzo pressed. “Have you not been trying to prove yourself to the Sicilians since you were a kid? It’s me you’re talking to, Gio. Mirabella is Don Mancini’s daughter. She and Marietta are the key—”
“That’s enough!” Giovanni said. “My wife is no key to your fucking ambition. Watch your fucking mouth!”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
Giovanni leveled a warning finger on him. “I’ll give you some rope on this, Lo, but bring it to an end. Bring me something other than this bullshit talk of taking down the Mafiosi. Do it soon or I’ll end it for us both.”
“I can handle it,” Lorenzo said.
Giovanni ran his hand over his face and let go of hi
s anger. He had no time to be riled over this. He needed a clear head to deal with Santo and his business matters.
“How is Mirabella? Is she excited over the fashion show? Marietta can’t stop talking about it.” Lorenzo asked.
“I suppose. It will happen. Enough said.” He flicked his ash into the crystal ashtray. “I will say she was happy to see me when I came home,” he boasted. Another surge of love shuddered through his heart. Lorenzo chuckled in agreement. Apparently he had his own homecoming. There was a knock at the door. Lorenzo got up and walked over to open it. In walked Carlo and behind him Santo, Nico entered last and covered the door. Giovanni set his cigar in the ashtray and stood.
Santo had changed. He’d gotten thin. He had dark circles under his eyes and pasty skin from a poor diet. He looked older than them all. The Neapolitan prisons were hard on a man. And Santo had now served two terms in the name of the Battaglia family. Giovanni hadn’t seen him in over two years. It wasn’t wise for a man of Giovanni’s reputation to visit the prisons for a man who the authorities believed betrayed the Camorra.
“Ciao amico mio, bentornato!” Giovanni said. Santo walked over and the two embraced and exchanged cheek kisses. He grabbed Santo by the face. “Let me get a good look at you. Ah? You see this?” he asked the room. “This is the look of a survivor.” Giovanni kissed Santo on the left and then the right cheek ceremoniously once more. “Come, and sit!”
“Grazie, Gio. I apologize I didn’t return sooner. As I said my brother is ill.”
Giovanni put up his hand to dismiss the insult. “You’ve been gone for two years. I understand your family matters needed to be attended to.”
The two sat down. The only other person to sit across from them in a chair was Lorenzo. Carlo and Nico stepped back but kept an eye on Santo. Until Giovanni cleared Santo, his absence made him a threat. He’d have to prove to Giovanni that his return came with the loyalty he professed before he left.
