La Dolce Vita: Romantic Suspense (Battaglia Mafia Series Book 7)

by Sienna Mynx

"Are you fucking kidding?" Marietta laughed.

  "Fucking!" Gianni shouted. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

  The women froze. They looked to Gianni who grinned at them.

  "Just ignore him, he won't say it again if we don't acknowledge it," Marietta whispered.

  "Watch your mouth. I've told you a hundred times," Mirabella said.

  "Sorry." Marietta gave her a sheepish grin. Gianni turned back to the cabinets he was digging through and brought out another pot.

  "No. I'm not kidding," Mirabella continued. "Giovanni and Domi think I have PTSD."

  "Did you tell them they are fuck--ah crazy? Wait? Do you think you have it?"

  Mirabella smiled. "I don't have it."

  "How can you be so sure?" Marietta asked.

  "Clyde, our cousin, he had it. He did two tours in Vietnam. Even when I was a little girl I could see how the war had damaged him. I heard Granddaddy talking about the days when he came back. The screams, the violent attacks he did on his wife. They said that when he first came home, only Bessie-Mae could calm him down. And when she died it got worst. Once, Grandpa said it took six men from the church to hold him down when he lost control. And then the catatonic state he went into lasted so long they committed him for some time. There was a lot of medication and therapy to put Clyde back together again. He's still... different than most men. Minnie, however, keeps him straight."

  "Well if you don't think you have it why see this doctor?"

  "Because it's the only way Gio will let me see a doctor like this. I had a therapist in New York. I believe in therapy. Our husbands? Not so much."

  "Yeah," Marietta nodded. "It's not their thing."

  Mirabella smiled. "Ever think of seeing a therapist?"

  "Me? Fuc-- a no! I'm fine. I don't need a doctor," Marietta tossed her chin up in a prideful shrug.

  "Sometimes we go through things that are so hard and painful that we bury them deep inside," Mirabella pointed to her heart. "But we feel it here. Like a wound that never heals. I started to see a therapist when I first moved to New York because I arrived there with nothing and no one. I had lost my grandfather, and my ex-boyfriend was a complete psychopathic jackass..."

  "Like Giovanni?" Marietta grinned.

  Mirabella shot her the middle finger.

  Marietta laughed.

  "I was running from the mistakes I made in Apple Grove."

  "What about all that family we got there? Didn't they try to help you?" Marietta asked.

  Mirabella shook her head with heavy sadness. "Talking to someone professional helped me deal with my emotions. Fabiana was the one to make me see that being sad was just being in pain. She told me that if I wanted to be happy, then just decide to be happy." Mirabella smiled through fresh tears.

  "That's right because Fabiana was a saint," Marietta mumbled.

  "No, Marietta. She was flawed, she was human, and one of the most special friends I've ever had when nobody in the world believed in me. She accepted people for who they were. And she knew I had problems because she had some of her own. I got through it. I believe that talking to this therapist about Kei will help me too."

  "Okay," Marietta shrugged. "If you say so."

  "Maybe you can think about doing the same. You know? Seeing someone, to talk about your feelings about the baby and Lorenzo..."

  "Girl, please stop. I told you already. I ain't seeing no damn loony tunes, doctor," Marietta got up from her seat and picked up Gianni who was banging pots against the floor. She put the toddler on her hip. "I'm probably the sanest person in this entire family. Seriously. If you want to talk to someone you can speak to me because I've seen it all, baby. Nothing shocks me. Ain't no reason why we should let some nosey ass doctor into our family business."

  "After everything, your adoptive parents put you through. All the tough things you had to do to survive when you ran away. Are you saying that when you close your eyes at night, you don't relive those mistakes, that pain?" Mirabella asked.

  Marietta stared her in the eye. "No. I'm not saying that. I got a lot of shit in my head I don't talk about."

  "Head!" Gianni said.

  Marietta sighed. "Sorry, girl, my mouth. What I'm saying is the difference between you and me is I know if the past didn't break me the future can't."

  "Okay. Okay." Mirabella said with defeat.

  "I got your back either way." Marietta spun around, and Gianni giggled with laughter. She then swayed side to side, and he bucked in her arms with excitement. It made Mirabella smile to see her so happy and beautiful. She carried her pregnancy much better than Mirabella did. Maybe her concerns that Marietta suffered the same bi-polar complex that was strong in their grand-aunt were unfounded. Still, she secretly worried.

  "Okay, that's enough you two. You're pregnant, remember?" Mirabella said. Marietta kissed and tickled her nephew before she set him down on his feet.

  Gianni ran over to his mother with his arms stretched. Mirabella stood before she reached and pulled him up into her arms. Mirabella touched her sister's baby bump. "Whoa, look at my little nugget, the kid is gaining weight every day."

  Marietta’s face lit up with pride. She let her sister rub her belly. "The doctor said it's not twins, but I swear I feel like I'm carrying a basketball team. Lorenzo thinks it's a boy. I want a girl."

  "A girl?" Mirabella asked.

  "Yep. Who would want sons with fathers like these?" Marietta chuckled.

  Mirabella didn't.

  "Oh shit. I'm sorry."

  "Shit head!" Gianni giggled. Mirabella rolled her eyes.

  Marietta put her hand to her mouth. "It was a stupid joke. I love the twins. I'm sorry."

  "It's okay," Mirabella waved off the comment. "I know what you meant. I think about it sometimes."

  "You do?" Marietta pressed.

  "The way Gino imitates Giovanni. The way the men all act like the twins are going to be gladiators when they grow up. I guess I can see what his mother went through when she tried to shield him from this life."

  "Giovanni ever talk about what he wants for their future? Lorenzo talks about these imaginary sons he thinks he is going to have. Man, shoot. One and done is what I say. But let him tell it he is going to have an army." Marietta frowned.

  "Giovanni wants what's best for them. That's what he says," Mirabella replied.

  "But does he want them in la Camorra?" Marietta pressed.

  Mirabella was unsure of what her husband’s true desires were. "He's not a verbal man like that when we talk about the future... he just says he wants his kids happy."

  "Lorenzo wants to take Armando's throne. He has the dream of being the King of Sicily and running the Mafiosi. And Giovanni will continue to be the capo di tutti capi over the Camorra clans. He wants them to be equals."

  "Armando would beg to differ," Mirabella said.

  "It could happen, though, think about it. Together we own more than Armando does of our dad's company. And we are... his sisters. If something were to happen to Armando--"

  "Stop it," Mirabella said. "He's our brother. Or have you forgotten how hard you worked to get me to acknowledge that fact?"

  "I know. I know. My thing is, Lorenzo and Giovanni can't exist this way. I mean Lorenzo is destined for more too. And if he and Giovanni part ways..." she said.

  "Wait, wait, wait... what do you mean part ways?" Mirabella asked. "What do you mean? You and Lorenzo thinking about moving to Sicily?"

  "What if they have a disagreement or something? You never know with those two men. Maybe, well maybe instead of them going to war with each other this would be a solution. Lorenzo and I move to Sicily and run things, and Giovanni runs things here in Italy."

  "What are we talking about?" Mirabella asked. Gianni giggled, and she forgot about her little parrot on her hip. "Is this Lorenzo talking? Something wrong between him and Giovanni that I need to know?"

  "Girl, no, it's me rambling. Must be the hormones. I'm a little paranoid about the future with this crumb snatcher clawing to get out o
f my womb."

  Mirabella shook her head. "The things that come out of your mouth always surprise me." Mirabella hugged her sister once more.

  "Let's check in with Ana and see if she has a treat for you, baby," she said and kissed Gianni.

  "Mira," Marietta stopped her.

  "Yes?" she answered.

  "I have to ask. Have you heard anything about Isabella? Giovanni is cutting Lorenzo out in his search for her. But I know he's looking. Is he close to finding her?" Marietta asked.

  Mirabella shook her head no. "If he is, he wouldn't tell me."

  "But we're wives. We hear and see things that they think we don't. What do you know?"

  "Nothing!" Mirabella snapped. "I don't spy on Giovanni. And you shouldn't spy on Lorenzo. There's a reason why we don't know everything our husbands do. It protects us, and our children."

  "That's crazy. If you knew more of Kei and Giovanni's war he might not have been able to kidnap you!"

  Mirabella felt the blow of her sister's words to her heart. In a flash, Marietta could strike faster than a rattlesnake, and her venom hurt deeply. Marietta started to stumble through an explanation for her harsh words, but Mirabella waved the apology off. "Kei Hyogo was an obsessive, controlling freak long before Giovanni came into the picture. And I knew it."

  “Sorry,” Marietta mumbled.

  “Let it go. Giovanni will find her, and she'll pay for everything she's done."

  Marietta gave her a weak smile. "Yeah. I hope so. The bitch deserves it."

  "Deserves it!" Gianni exclaimed and nodded for his mama and aunt. The women laughed and started out of the kitchen.

  Chapter Nine

  The Plan

  Villa Rosso - Sorrento Italy

  The day was almost done. It irked Giovanni that he had to waste most of it waiting on Lorenzo to return from his sailing adventure. The only bright spot of his day was the extra time spent with his bambini and his wife. Bella was a talker. And most times he preferred to listen, even if she were rambling or complaining about something he found insignificant. However, last night and this morning was different. They held each other, and he reflected on how precious and fragile the life he'd created with her was. Dominic had given him hope with this PTSD talk. And Bella slept peacefully in his arms for the first time in weeks. Maybe the worst was near the end.

  Suddenly he had faith.

  The talk of wanting another child surprised him. Each time he tried to discuss it in the past she ended the conversation. He may have faith, but he knew his wife had lost hers. Again he worried. He was reminded of the man he was before she entered his life. The dark solitude he dwelled in where he didn't need the comfort of a woman's affections. It was always physical with the ladies before his wife. He could never go back to those lost days and find fulfillment. Mirabella was his balance. The kind of balance his father didn't appreciate in Giovanni's mother. He swore on his life when he said his vows to her; he'd be a different man.

  Now he practiced at being a selfless person.

  It was the reason he made sure his capus were careful not to pursue the women in his family. If Bella was his weakness, then the love of a real woman would certainly be theirs. He would rather not have the complication of their love affairs so close to his family. He needed killers, attack dogs, men who didn't have anything to lose. That's why he chose men who had no fathers to rely on like Carlo, who were orphaned and without a family like Renaldo, who could bring pain without even clenching a fist like Nico. This is how you held on to power when everyone around you wanted to take it from you.

  Giovanni reached for the phone. He called the house and asked for his wife. He waited patiently for her to answer.

  “Hello?” Mirabella answered.

  “Where would you like to go this evening?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “Surprise me.”

  “Are you dressed?”

  “Not quite. Feeding your children and then I will have to give them a bath. When will you be ready for me?”

  He looked at his watch. “Two hours and I’m coming to collect my wife.”

  “I’ll be ready. Love you.”

  He hung up. The men all arrived.

  "Where's Carlo?" Giovanni asked. He glanced to his cousin who slowly removed his sunglasses. "And before you lie to me, consider that this is not a question, but a one-time request for an answer."

  Nico closed the door after he held it open for Umberto to join them.

  Lorenzo tucked his sunglasses into his shirt pocket. He sat down in the chair nearest the window and crossed his leg. "Why am I always considered a liar before I even speak?"

  "Do you want me to answer truthfully or should I become the liar, too?"

  The men all shared a laugh except for Lorenzo. Dominic chuckled as he headed toward Giovanni's desk. There he picked up the phone and sat behind the Don's desk to make a call. Giovanni chose to sit near the large window where his cigar box and lighters rested on the coffee table. Everyone waited for Lorenzo's sly comeback. Instead of responding Lorenzo plucked a cigar and lit it.

  The clan bosses' power structure had changed. Giovanni remained the boss of all bosses, but territory divisions and business deals within the legal world of the Italian parliament had put a leash on every man in the clan. Lorenzo was still underboss. He was what a clan boss like Giovanni would consider his left hand. Though Giovanni reigned in Lorenzo's power after the arrests of his men and the kidnapping of his wife, he still valued Lorenzo's methods. Dominic remained consigliere, and his top capus were now Nico, Renaldo, Carlo, and Umberto who had recently been promoted. As for the foot soldiers, they were down half the men they had after the war with the Triad. Giovanni had stopped accepting new recruits to high-ranking positions. He was closing in his organization for a new singular purpose. And every man under the gun needed to be focused. It was why Carlo's disappearance for the past month had agitated him. He heard the whispered rumors among the men about this trip to America. Carlo was unstable after the death of his brother. They'd all seen the change in him, so he allowed a temporary break to clear his head. It proved a mistake because the first thing he did was hop on a plane for America.

  "I asked you a question," Giovanni said. He plucked a cigar and joined Lorenzo in a smoke.

  "Is it crucial that we discuss this now?" Lorenzo exhaled a long stream of smoke up toward the ceiling. He uncrossed his legs and slumped down in the chair.

  The room went silent. Only the mumbled conversation of Dominic with the person he spoke to on the phone could be heard.

  "It's the American woman. Shae," Lorenzo said. "He had a thing for her. Now that's over."

  "Isn't it always a thing for an American woman?" Giovanni scoffed. "What is it with you men and American women? Aren’t there enough women in Italy to satisfy you?"

  "I love my Cecilia, boss, and she's not American," Nico stretched out his massive arms with a big satisfied grin.

  "I like American women, just don't see them often," said Umberto. "Maybe I should go to America next. Bring me back one."

  "Mannaggia! It has shit to do with American women!" Lorenzo sat upright. "Carlo went to visit her for a little pussy and to clear his head, a vacation that you approved, Gio, after all, the shit he'd been through. When he was there the woman Shae told him of her problems. He offered to help. He made things worse. It's over. The relationship and the situation. Carlo is headed back home from the United States. And his head is clear."

  "When does he return?" Nico asked.

  "He should have already been here," Umberto volunteered. "I spoke to him a few days ago, he didn’t sound good. Like he had been drinking. He was talking strange too…”

  “He’s always drinking,” Lorenzo said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "He's fine."

  Umberto shrugged. “He said he was boarding a plane, but I don't think it was to come here."

  Giovanni frowned. He glanced over to Dominic. "Check into it. I want him home."

  Dominic nodded.

&nb
sp; "He has had time to deal with the death of Ciro. His head is straight. I assure you," Lorenzo said. "Can I speak freely?"

  "Don't you always?" Giovanni asked.

  Lorenzo sat forward. "I know you had your reasons. I know this. We all do. And if I weren't in a cage after that motherfucker stole away Mirabella, I would have been at your side with a machete in hand. Not because you're my Don, but because you are my brother. Know this, Gio. It's the truth. I have to be honest about the other truth. What you did. What you had to do matters more now than who Carlo fucks in America."

  The facts were redundant. He was well aware of consequences. The men, except for Dominic, remained silent and listened.

  "You killed Father Nicosia. Everyone knows it. A fucking priest, Gio."

  "Excommunicated," Giovanni said.

  "He was a priest!" Lorenzo dropped his head and shook it as he made the sign of the cross over his chest. "Our territories are divided. We give the clan bosses more power than they deserve, and everyone exploits it. Santo is dead. Domi killed Santo? Your consigliere had to shoot the man I should have put a bullet in." Lorenzo spat. Dominic glanced up and then returned to his conversation. "And worst of all, the Mafiosi should be crushed under our boots now, Giovanni, instead Armando gloats over our Donna's rescue. I heard he showed up at Catalina's birthday party. So, he just walks around our clan like he owns the place? The clan bosses don't know the women are related to him, but if he keeps doing this they will. You've stopped the collections from him as repayment. What happens to our family when the truth comes out about our wives?"

  "Che cosa è questo? If you have a point to make then say it," Giovanni replied.

  "It's not a point. It's a plea. The biggest one I can make. I'll get on my fucking knees if I have to, but you need to hear me. We need to strike back and reclaim what is ours. We need to be the men they fear, not the ones they negotiate with. Your strength is our legacy. The bloody legacy earned thanks to the destruction of the Calderones and Mottolas, and now the Triad. What is the future if we don't spill Mancini blood in the name of the brotherhood?"

  "The future is whatever the boss says it is," Umberto replied.