by Sienna Mynx
It was the kind of passion that convinced him he would never take another woman to bed. He pulled his shirt over his head as his pants dropped to his knees. She knelt to help him step out of them and his shoes.
"This means everyone will know you're married to a Mancini," she glanced up at him as she led him to the bed.
"Yes. All those fuckers who mock Gio and me for marrying you and your sister because you're black will have to eat their words when they find out you're Sicilian."
"Half-Sicilian. And I consider myself black American, one hundred percent," she teased him.
"Sicilian blood is in your veins. Consider yourself what you want, but that is a fact. You are my destiny," he said joining her on the bed. "And the bullets in my gun are your brother's future."
She chuckled. "So, you're a tough guy?"
"You bet your sweet pussy I am," he winked.
Marietta always had a fascination with his cock. Her hand sought it often when he slept. She tugged or pulled on it whenever she pleased, and he didn't mind. Especially since she had to jack him off a few times when the sex between them became less frequent.
She licked her lips and held on as she slid down his body. She rubbed the side of her face across his erection. She opened her mouth and used her tongue, not her hands, to coax his length between her lips. His groin tightened into a pretzel knot. He cupped the back of her head. Her curls were silky and soft. His fingers sank into their lush thickness. He thrust his hips to spear his cock down her throat. And his beautiful wife swallowed instead of choked.
There was a gentle suction of his dick. A painful tease to punish him for his aggression. He knew she could do much more, and she would do much more. Lorenzo groaned in his throat and pulled her hair to command her to swallow more. She did not. She sucked and licked him at her pace.
"Mmm, yes, later for this!" he groaned and pulled her off him. He swore he heard her laugh. She wanted to play. Now he was so riled up there would be no turning back. He slid his hands beneath her fat butt cheeks, and then parted them as she hooked her legs around the back of his thighs. Swirling his hips, he screwed into her in slow, shallow circles that had him gritting his teeth because she was so wet and hot inside. The urge to slam all seven inches of dick inside gripped him, but he suppressed it.
He loved her nice and smooth. Like a husband should.
Her breath hitched.
Her lips parted in that lovely way they did when she struggled to take in pleasure and air at the same time. He thrust in deeper and reached that sweet spot that made her inner thighs tremble.
"Ride me, cara, make it good for me bambina," he said.
She nodded her obedience. He rolled to his back and helped her sit up. She must have climaxed from his deep plunges because the pussy was so wet. She shivered and panted hard. He had slipped out of her during the position change. She reached and gripped his dick to hold it still. He winced but didn't complain. She guided him to her entrance and slid down his shaft like a pro.
He gripped her hips, mindful not to hold on too tight. The walls of her sex cinched tightly around his erection, and she glided up and down on him with her hands flat against his chest. Lorenzo closed his eyes and enjoyed the way she moved her hips and ass like a belly dancer. Bouncing, rolling and then thrusting back and forth before doing the ritual over and over again. She dug her nails into his chest, and he gripped her hips tighter than a vice. He squeezed his eyes so tightly he saw stars as he pitched over into the climatic explosion building in his groin. He roared too loudly when he came. She put her hand over his mouth to silence him and they both shared a laugh. He was too shaken to object. He just shuddered deep and suffered through shocking spasms in his dick and groin. She dropped on him, and her long curls immediately covered his face. He inhaled her scent and smiled. This was his life. He loved his life. He loved her. For the first time in a long time, he had it all.
***
"Knock, knock," Marietta said.
Catalina looked up from her packing and zipped her bag shut. "Come in."
"Oh good I caught you before dinner. Packed?" Marietta asked. "Is this all you're taking?"
"Yep!" Catalina said. "I'm not staying long. Two days. Visit Francesca and then Zia Josefina and Zio Vito."
"And Rosetta?" Marietta sat on the bed.
Catalina began to curse in Italian tossing her makeup into her little zipper bag. Marietta laughed. She loved it when Catalina was fired up. "We're headed to Florence in the morning to meet this doctor. I should go to Sicily and then Paris with you. Especially since Lorenzo said he's going to pay Armando a visit."
"He is?" Catalina asked.
"Business," Marietta waved it off.
"You and Armando still close?" Catalina cut her gaze over to Marietta as she continued to fold clothes.
"We were never close. I just... well he's still my brother, so there's that," Marietta said.
"You make no sense. Just a few months ago you were ranting in everyone's ear about him being your brother. About us all accepting it. Now that's changed?"
"Yes," Marietta said. "Mira was kidnapped. Lorenzo cheated on me..."
Catalina looked at her with concern.
Marietta sighed. "Lorenzo and I had problems, you know that because I wasn't focused on our family. The one we are making. It's my priority now. He's a good husband, now."
"He didn't cheat, Marietta."
"Were you there?" Marietta asked. Catalina shook her head no. "Then don't tell me what he didn't do. A man don't sleep with whores for comfort. Trust me. I know."
"Does he deny the cheating?" Catalina asked.
"He doesn't dare mention any of it. When I do mention it, I get roses or another diamond bracelet. He's lucky I don't cut his dick off," Marietta huffed.
"Ah? Whatever you say." Catalina turned to the dresser and began to finger pick through her bra and panties drawer. Marietta walked around the room inspecting some of Catalina’s things. She did so without speaking. After a moment Catalina turned her attention back to her.
"Something wrong?"
"You heard the stories about this woman Isabella? Lorenzo's long lost sister," Marietta said.
"Yes, she's why that man from China came here and took Mira," Catalina said.
"Can I tell you something else? Something I've never told Mira or anyone? Something between you and me."
Catalina stared at her for a moment. Then she nodded.
"You must promise me that you will never share this with anyone. Not until Lorenzo and I figure things out." Marietta walked over and took Catalina's hand. "Promise me."
"I promise, what is it?"
"I've heard of her before. Isabella. I knew of her before. Not that she was Lorenzo's sister. But... she is the reason he and I fell in love."
"What?" Catalina frowned.
Marietta let her hand go. "When I came to Italy I was looking for my father. My real dad. I thought he was Italian. I got an anonymous letter from a woman named Isabella telling me that Lorenzo could help me find out about my mother."
Catalina’s eyes stretched. Marietta crossed her arms over her breasts. "I didn't know the woman Isabella, or Lorenzo at the time. I had seen him but didn't know him. This woman pushed us to meet. Orchestrated it in some way. She's been watching Mirabella and me for a long time. Plotting against Lorenzo and Giovanni, hell the entire family."
"Then we must tell Gio!" Catalina exclaimed.
"No. No. No. No. No! He barely trusts me as it is. We tell him how I met Lo, and it'll just divide them further. No. I'm telling you this because we need to stand united on protecting Mirabella and the family ourselves. If you find out anything about Isabella, anything in Sicily or Paris, or anywhere, tell me first."
"No," Catalina shook her head.
"Listen to me. The men are going to find her and kill her. I don't doubt it. But she's a slippery snake. Her sole purpose is to use lies and manipulations to divide us. We women have a different responsibility than the men. We aren't hot hea
ded or quick to react..."
Catalina scoffed. "You're not hot headed?"
"Okay, I have a temper. Who doesn't? But I'm pregnant, and my husband is vulnerable. Giovanni discovers he is keeping this from him and he... he won't trust him anymore. What we have to do is work together to make sure we keep Giovanni and Lorenzo from becoming enemies. That's what Isabella wants, Catalina."
"Why not tell Mirabella?" Catalina asked.
"We will. I'm going to Chianti with her. We'll find out what's wrong with her and then I'll tell her. Okay?"
Catalina smiled. "You do love her. Don't you?"
"I love all of you," Marietta hugged Catalina. The two women eventually separated, and Catalina touched Marietta's tiny belly. She rubbed it.
"I can't wait until the wee one comes and joins the clan. Will you find out what you're having soon?" she asked.
"No. We're going to wait until birth," Marietta smiled. "My idea. If it's a girl, Lo will be disappointed. Might as well wait to know."
"No, he won't. Marietta, he loves the baby no matter what it is. The things you say sometimes."
Marietta shrugged. "If you say so."
"Thank you for telling me. And don't you worry." Catalina pulled up her dress hem and extended her leg. She revealed the gun tucked into a leather strap on her thigh that reached high up like a garter belt. “If that puttana dares to come near any of us, I'll put a bullet between her eyes."
Marietta laughed. "Did you make that?"
"I'll make you one," Catalina whispered.
They hugged again, laughing and talking at once. Marietta felt a sense of calm. She had Catalina on her side, and Mirabella too. Now she'd pray that Lorenzo knew what he was doing and found that viper bitch before Giovanni did.
***
Mirabella was running late. She'd changed twice. Giovanni wanted to do something fun. When they were first married, they would sneak away for a drive into the countryside. Ravello, one of the most romantic and beautiful small towns in Italy and not far. He bought her a villa that was perched on a steep slope that reached closer to the sky than the sea. She and Giovanni had spent one night there full of wine, and loving each other until sunset. She couldn't wait.
“Where is it?” she mumbled. She dug in her makeup bag for her lip gloss. It was the plum shade to match the halter top she wore. Giovanni loved the top because of the way it lifted her breasts and made them look a size or two larger. It stopped above her navel. She put her hair in a ponytail, and with her smooth bangs she looked ten years younger. The tight jeans hugging her hips helped. He wouldn’t be able to resist.
Mirabella smiled.
Her fingers latched on a tube, and she drew it out. It was a scarlet red tube she hadn't worn in months. In fact, the last time she remembered putting on a similar shade of lipstick was when she and Giovanni went to see Ciro’s boxing match in Napoli. Her hand gripped the tube. Giovanni laughed after the sex in the limo when he saw his lips were stained red from kissing her. It took her several long minutes to clean his face. She remembered. And then another memory surfaced. One she never recalled. She was on the boat. Kei was undressing her. She felt something cold on her face, a wet cloth. He told her he hated when she covered her face with so much makeup.
Mirabella lifted her gaze to the mirror. Standing behind her was Kei.
“Miss me?” he smiled.
She screamed.
Giovanni bounded up the stairs and headed down the hall toward his room. He had waited for her on the terrace with the family. She was taking an unusually long time. And then he remembered his threat to come collect her if she made him wait too long. He smiled. She was probably soaking in a perfumed bath to tease him.
When he entered the room, he saw it was empty. There were clothes thrown over the bed. She must have spent time changing and deciding on what to wear. It didn't matter to him. The moment they arrived in Ravello, he intended to undress her.
He glanced at the bathroom door. It was partially open.
"Bella? I wanted to leave before it got too late. Are you ready?"
She didn’t answer.
“Bella?” he asked again.
When no answer came, Giovanni went to the door. He pushed it open. He didn't see her in the shower or by the tub. Confused he almost turned and left, but he heard something. The whimpering of a child. He glanced down. Mirabella had scooted under the sink. She held her knees and pressed her face to them. She shivered hard and whimpered.
“Bella!” Giovanni went to her. “It’s me, what... what is it?”
“He’s here, he’s here, he’s going to kill me, he’s gonna do it...” she stammered.
“No. No, sweetheart. No one is here. Bella, please. Look at me.”
She shook her head no. She held her knees close to her chest. He couldn’t pry her arms apart. Giovanni sat on the floor. He rubbed her head. He’d seen her like this before, after a nightmare. But never during the day. Never this way.
“Bella? He can’t hurt you. Not anymore. I’m here. Look at me,” he said softly.
“I’m crazy,” she wept. “If he’s not here in this house then I’m crazy. What am I going to do?”
“Non posso vivere senza di te,” he said.
Slowly her head lifted from her knees. She looked at him with the most beautiful pair of sorrow filled eyes. He could see all of her pain and suffering in those eyes.
“I can’t live without you either,” she said.
“Ti penso ogni giorno, Bella--I think about you every day, Bella. What you’ve been through. How strong you are to be alive and here with me. Fight a little longer tesoro mio to face your demon. And I promise you. I swear it on our children. Sei la donna dei miei sogni. I will find a way to defeat the monsters that haunt you until there is not even the memory left.”
“I love you, Gio,” she reached for him. He hugged her as best he could and pulled her from under the sink. She held on to him and cried. He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to cry as well. How could he defeat the monster in her head? He wasn’t sure. But he was determined to try.
Chapter Ten
Blind Faith
Roma, Italy
Renaldo didn't smoke. It was a disgusting habit. But most Italians and Sicilians did. He leaned against the car and glared at two men sharing a cigarette under a streetlamp. They glanced his way. It must have been something in his unwavering stare that communicated his message. Go the fuck away. I don't want to smell your fucking vapors. Soon after, the men turned and started off down the sidewalk. He turned his gaze back to the police station. It was late. And he'd been waiting for three hours since he arrived. Cars, buses, trucks and Vespas all sped down the narrow two-lane road that separated him from the station. He didn't dare cross. Not for fear of the traffic, but for his golden rule. He, like most men he knew, hated the polizia.
He checked the timepiece on his wrist before his gaze lifted once more. Carlo came down the steps. He carried two luggage pieces as if he were leaving a hostel. Renaldo shook his head and got back behind the wheel. Dominic had found out that Carlo was detained in Roma. He'd been locked up for three days with no access to a phone. Renaldo was called to pick him up after Giovanni had his attorneys get him released.
His friend went to the back of his car and threw his luggage in the boot, before he walked around the front of the car to get in on the passenger side. He slammed the car door with a hard bam.
"Che cavalo!" Renaldo asked him what the fuck was wrong with him.
"Testa di cazzo!" Carlo side punched the car door as he cursed fiercely under his breath. Renaldo shook his head and pulled away from the corner.
"The fucking polizia has crawled up my ass again. Three fucking days of harassment, and I could do nothing but bend over and take it."
"This happens when you travel. It happens to me when I fly back into the country from Africa," Renaldo said.
"Bullshit! It does not happen to Giovanni's men; it didn't until that fucking inspector came to town." Carlo noted. Ren
aldo had to agree. Things felt very different with the Carabinieri since the massacre in Naples.
"What did he want this time?" Renaldo asked.
"How the fuck would I know?" Carlo snarled. His face was contorted with rage. "He doesn't face me. He sends in his slaves to try to flex muscle and crack knuckles while he watches behind the glass. He brings up old shit that he can't prove, and then makes up lies about how they are on to us and will defeat Gio. It was a squeeze."
Carlo dropped the passenger seat back and closed his eyes.
"We're headed to Chianti," Renaldo told him.
"Why?" Carlo asked, but Renaldo knew he could care less.
"Giovanni wants to see you. Us. I got the call earlier from Lorenzo. Big things are going down in Chianti."
"Nothing fucking ever goes down there. Wait. Wait?" Carlo looked over at Renaldo. "Isabella? Have they located the cunt?"
To hear her name made the bullet wounds scarring his chest burn. It felt like the puttana held a fire poker to each scar and pressed it in. Renaldo rubbed the phantom pain with his gloved hand and kept driving with the other.
"Fucking bitch," Renaldo seethed. "I've spent weeks from my wife and son looking for her. No one has seen her. She's here, she's there, she's no fucking where."
"I'll help you find her," Carlo grumbled.
He noticed Carlo had removed his sunglasses. Though it was dark outside, when angry or inebriated, Carlo was known to keep his sunglasses on. His friend didn't seem right. Renaldo caught him rubbing his brow.
