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

by Sienna Mynx

The love she felt for Dominic could cure her of almost anything. She kissed him. It was nice and sweet. He dropped his forehead on hers. "Don't ever worry me like this again. Ever."

  "I won't. I swear."

  "Let's go home," he said. "Now."

  He put his arm around her neck and started to walk her back toward the path. She went without resistance. Only once did she look back to the grave and the surrounding forest. And from somewhere in the woods, Armando watched.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A Tale of Two Sons

  Chianti, Italy

  The wet heat from the rag against her face soothed her. Mirabella wiped off the makeup she'd worn during the day. She turned off the tap and reached for another hand towel to blot her skin. The hour was late, but she wasn't sure of the time. So many people went in and out of the villa. It took forever for her and Cecilia to get the children to settle down. Her babies were to excited to sleep. Now she was exhausted. Once done with her grooming routine, she turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom. The moment she stepped into the hall a man's large hands grabbed her. In one dizzying move, she was swept off her feet and thrown over the stranger’s shoulder. Stunned she didn't scream. Not at first. In all her nightmares none of them felt this real.

  Emotion clogged her throat. And then her attacker smacked her on the rump and chuckled. Mirabella howled with fury now able to name the perpetrator.

  "Giovanni!" she yelped.

  "You're coming with me."

  "Put me down. Are you insane?" she asked.

  He didn't comply. The worst of it was his carrying her down the stairs. She flopped on his back like a sack of laundry. She punched and pinched him in a feeble attempt to make him stop. The blood in her body rushed to her head. At the beginning of their marriage, they play fought. And she liked it. When she gave birth to his sons, he turned his attention of rough housing to his progeny. And since her kidnapping he treated her like some delicate flower. Now he was wild and unpredictable? Her husband bit her on the thigh to remind her to behave. The bite hurt, a little, enough for her to stop resisting. And when they stopped on the landing she waited for him to release her.

  “Will you be a good girl?” he asked.

  “Put me down, Gio,” she said.

  “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

  “Put me down!”

  He pulled her off his shoulder to set her down on her feet. She punched him in the chest the moment her feet were on the ground. She knew it didn't hurt him, but he folded and clutched his chest as if it did.

  She hid her smile. Mirabella could never stay mad at him for long.

  "Don't ever do that again. You could have given me a heart attack." She huffed. Her hair was all over her face. She brushed it down with her hands, but was stopped when Giovanni grabbed her wrists and yanked her toward him. Captured by him she looked up at him as if she were mad.

  "Come away with me?" he asked.

  She didn't know how to respond. The question was simple enough, but it held a deeper meaning.

  "Vuoi venire con me--do you want to come with me, Bella?"

  "Where are we going?” she asked and crossed her arms.

  He smiled, slightly. "I have a surprise for you tonight."

  "No. Not tonight, Giovanni. It's late. I just put the kids to bed, and I'm tired. I was hoping to read my book."

  "Book?" His nose wrinkled, and he let go of her wrists. "Bella, you surprise me. You’d rather read a book than run away with me?"

  "Run away? Out here? To where, the fields?"

  "You'll like this surprise. I promise. Read a fucking book when I'm dead. Come away with me now."

  She threw up her hands in defeat. He pulled her by the hand and walked her through the house, out the side door, and into the night. Several men gathered around a car listening to the radio. They all nodded or waved at Giovanni. He ignored them. He marched through the grass, and she had to half run, half walk, to keep up. Above her lightning flashed inside the dark clouds. The heady scent of rain wafted up in the air. The strange thing was they were headed toward the road.

  He pointed. Mirabella looked to the side of the villa. There were two bicycles propped up against the wall.

  “What are those for?”

  “For us, we need to ride off the property to get to our surprise.”

  “On bikes!” she gasped. “In the middle of the night?”

  He stepped toward her. He stood so close she had to step back to look up into his eyes.

  "Remember the time when you would get on a bike just because I asked you to? When you would go anywhere with me in the middle of the night because I asked."

  She smiled. “I remember that time.”

  “Can that be tonight, cara?” he asked and traced his thumb along the side of her face. She glanced to the bike. In Italy, particularly in Chianti, she saw women and men riding bikes along the roads. She had never done it with Giovanni. She felt a tingle of excitement over the request. Mirabella wore a long ‘cami’ maxi-sundress. It was part of her Spring collection this year. It had thin straps, a subtle A-line silhouette against her curvy figure, with a deep V-neck that showed the swell of her breasts. The fabric was light, but the dress was not something she'd choose for biking.

  Still, she saw such desire in her husband’s eyes when he looked at her; she didn't want to change. She smiled. The dress covered her feet. She drew up the hem and hiked the dress up to her thighs. She tied the stretchy fabric into a knot at the right side of her thigh.

  “Let’s do this!” she clapped her hands together. She walked over to the bike with the basket. She pulled it off the other bike. It had a bell to it. Both bikes had a single lamplight to the front of the handlebars. The tires looked like they were okay for a night ride. “Well? Are we going to do this or what?”

  Giovanni smiled. He went to the other bike. He got on, flicked on the lamplight, and started to pedal away. Mirabella sat on the seat and did as he did. She put her foot to the pedal and began to steer her way to the road. After a few hard pedals, she caught up to Giovanni. The men who lingered by their cars watched them. Giovanni slowed and waited for her to ride at his side. Together they started up the road, and off the land.

  Mirabella glanced up to the moon. It appeared and vanished like the flashes of a strobe light as the trees drew closer to the road, and their long branches stretched for the sky. Still, she could see. Mirabella held tight to the handlebars. Her bike stumbled along the dirt road. She wobbled a bit as the wheels bumped rocks and lumpy mounds of earth and stone. Before them, the trees rescinded and the plains of many green hills could be seen in the distance. The moon reappeared. It was crescent, larger than normal, and bright against the dark shifting clouds in the sky.

  Giovanni had got ahead of her again. She rode harder and faster. Soon she was at his side again.

  Mirabella loved the speed.

  “Wanna race?" she asked then went for it. She leaned into the bike and rode harder and faster. She glanced back to see Giovanni gaining on her by the second. Chianti at night was paradise. The absence of cars and city sound, transported her to a different time in the world. And of course, she had Giovanni to explore with.

  “Bella! Slow down.”

  “It’s fun!” she squealed and started to pedal faster.

  "Bella! Be careful, the road slopes up ahead!" he called out to her. But she heard him too late. Her bike pitched forward, and she nearly lost control. Mirabella screamed and swerved to the left and used her hand brakes to stop. It was too late. She was pitched forward and she and the bike flipped. She landed hard on her side.

  "Bella!"

  Giovanni must have flown off his bike. He was at her side within seconds.

  "Owe," she said.

  "I told you to slow down," he said and swept her up into his arms.

  "Gio!" She fought him. "Put me down. I'm fine."

  "You're bleeding," he said.

  When she was helped to stand she saw she scraped her arm and knee. Small
trickles of blood. Her husband eyes stretched as if she were cut and dying. She smiled. "It's a little boo-boo. Kiss it." She turned her arm around for him. He frowned. "Kiss it."

  He kissed her arm.

  "Now see. All better."

  “Are you alright?” he panted.

  She laughed. "Did you see that? Did you? I ultimately kept control. You saw it didn't you!"

  He shook his head with a smile. He stood her bike up for her to climb back on. “Yes. I saw, cara.”

  “Woohoo!” she yelled and put up her fists like a prize boxer.

  “Calm down. It was just a rock you hit. You didn’t climb a mountain,” he chuckled.

  “Whatever, I bet you would have landed on your ass too!”

  He shook his head smiling. “Can we continue without the racing? We’re almost there.”

  “Party pooper,” she said and began to pedal again. Giovanni rode at her side. The night was warm and sweet. The pleasant smell of ripe grapes across fields of sweet grass was inviting. She looked over to Giovanni and then back out to the road. The further they traveled the more adventurous she felt.

  "So, you just came up with this?" she asked.

  "Been thinking of this all day," he smiled.

  "I see. If you wanted to be alone with me, all you had to do was say so."

  "Too many people in the villa, outside of the villa, everywhere."

  Mirabella agreed. She missed Melanzana; at least their home was big enough to disappear into if they wanted.

  "It must have been wonderful to come here as a child, huh?" she asked.

  "At times it was. Especially when I was younger. But when I got older I wasn't allowed to visit here as much."

  "Why?"

  "My father and Rocco had a disagreement. He was banished here permanently."

  "Banished? Was it business or personal?"

  Giovanni seemed to consider the question. It was clear to her he knew the answer, but she could tell he wouldn't share it. "A matter of trust between them."

  "Your father was a complicated man. It's sad that he would push his brother away instead of dealing with the problem," she said. "I guess history repeats itself."

  He glanced over at her choice of words.

  She didn't feel the need to hold back her words. Not with him and not on a night ride. "You pushed Rocco out of the family because of the kidnapping. It's been stressful for us all. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. Kei had been planning to kidnap me for years. He did this. He paid for it."

  "Not enough," Giovanni grunted and slowed to a crawl on his cycling. It caused her to reduce speed as well. Together they strolled on their bikes on the empty country road. "Rocco and I have an understanding."

  “Have you forgiven him?” she asked.

  “I have, he’s welcome to come to Sorrento as he pleases.”

  “Grazie, husband,” she said.

  “Prego,” he said with a sly smile.

  “There! Ahead. See it?” he pointed.

  She glanced to the wagon and horse. It waited in the road for them. A real horse drawn wagon.

  “Is that for us?”

  “It’s part one of our surprise.”

  Two men waited by a truck next to the wagon. She couldn't see their faces but didn't feel threatened by their appearance. They were men who worked for her husband.

  “Now I’ll race you!” he said and sped off.

  “Oh you are going to pay for that!” she yelled after him. She pedaled as fast as her legs would work. She caught up with him at the wagon. She could barely capture her breath. Giovanni dropped his bike and came over to help her off hers. She didn’t need any help, but the moment she got off the bike she untied her dress at the side.

  He took her hand and left the bikes on the road. Not once did he acknowledge the men waiting by the truck. Instead, he walked her over to the left side of the wagon and helped her climb up. He went around to the horse and stroked his nose. Mirabella heard the distant sound of thunder. She glanced up to the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in fast. A dewy wind washed over her. She could smell the promise of rain.

  "We're riding in this thing?" she asked. "To where? It looks like it might rain."

  Giovanni came around and climbed up and sat on the bench seat next to her. He picked up the reins to the horse and gave them a shake. She looked back to the men near the truck. One tipped his hat to her. Both men walked over to the side doors. They got behind the wheel and started the truck but didn’t follow. There were many hills along the road. But a night ride into the darkness with a storm approaching felt a little weird.

  "Do you think it will rain?" she asked again.

  "Possibly. A little rain won't hurt us will it?" he chuckled.

  "After all these years of marriage, you still don't understand a black woman and her hair."

  "Yes! I get the hair. Can't get it wet in the shower, forget about a swim, the hair must be in a scarf. I understand..."

  "It's okay to break the hair rules if I'm prepared to fix my hair the next day. But I'm meeting the therapist tomorrow. Right? I don't want my hair to be a fuzzy ball of tangles."

  "Enough with the complaining," he clucked his tongue and shook out the reins to the horses.

  "Tell me a story," she said.

  "What kind of story?" he looked over to her.

  “It’s what you do, right, you’re Sicilian. You should have plenty of stories.”

  "Ha! American's tell far more stories." Giovanni said.

  "Nope. Not even close. When I first moved here I would hear a different story from Zia and you every other week. You had a story for everything. From the origin of rain to why the sun sets in the east."

  “Va bene, what kind of story would you like to hear?” he asked.

  "The history of Chianti. Make it romantic."

  "Hmmm, I don't know the history of Chianti. I grew up in Sicily, remember?"

  "Yes, I remember. But you spent plenty of time here in Italy. There must be a story you can tell me?" she pouted.

  He tilted his head left as if thinking it over. "I can tell you about Roma," he said.

  "Oh yes! Tell me about Rome," she said. She eased her hand over his chest. "And make it sexy!"

  Giovanni laughed. He had one of those deep throat gusts of laughter that so few that knew him ever heard. Chuckles and smiles were seldom, but laughter was nearly absent. Except for his children and her.

  "Go on, I'm listening," she said and eased her hand down to the silky hairs that curled up and out of the brim of his boxers. He cut her a sideways glance when her hand slipped into his boxers, and she touched his erection. She was growing increasingly more excited by the minute over this little night time country ride, but even more by the hard length of his man meat.

  "Let's see. The story of Rome. It was founded April 21st, 753 BCE," he began.

  She faked a deep yawn. She removed her hand from out of his zipper after she squeezed his dick. "Boring. I think I'll take a nap."

  He chuckled. "May I finish, Bella? Put your hand back on my dick and I will make it interesting."

  She smiled and eased her hand back into the front of his pants. She dropped her head on him and slowly stroked three fingers along the hard veined ridges of his erection.

  "There is a legend of how Rome was built. A very important one."

  "Okay?"

  "Rome was founded by twins named Romulus and Remus. It was founded by Romulus, but that part of the story is for later."

  "Twins?" Mirabella smiled.

  "Twins are a blessing. You and your sister were a blessing. Our sons are a blessing. Something remarkable happens when a woman can carry two souls in her womb at once. Did you feel that when you were pregnant?" he asked.

  She stopped molesting him. She sat back and considered the question. She was happy when she carried her sons. Much happier than she was with Eve. But that was because she had the love of her life, and all her dreams had materialized. When she gave it deeper thought, she had to accep
t there was more to it.

  "Bella?" he asked, waiting for an answer.

  "Oh, sorry. Yes. I felt something special with each pregnancy. It's the most wonderful feeling to have your love growing inside of me. Now the delivery? That's a different story," she laughed.

  He nodded in agreement.

  "So, the story starts with these twins Romulus and Remus?" she asked.

  "No. The story begins with a king," he began.

  "Doesn't it always," Mirabella said. "Will there be dragons too?"

  He chuckled. He kept the horses steady on their chosen path while her head rested against him. "King Numitor had a jealous brother who was called Amulius. His brother thirsted for power. It drove him near madness. And finally, when his envy became too great, brother loyalty was cast aside. Amulius stole the throne from King Numitor. And he didn't stop there. He killed the King's male heirs. He also forced his only daughter Rhea into a sworn oath of chastity."

  "Sounds like a charming guy," Mirabella said.

  "Jealousy between brothers is the root of evil in la famiglia."

  "Not our family," she said.

  "That's right, Bella. But sibling rivalry is common. All the way back to the Bible it speaks of it with Cain and Abel. No?"

  "Yes. I agree. Wars, kingdoms, and many lives have been lost because of envy and pride. If Amulius killed the male heirs of Numitor how did the twins survive?"

  "Rhea, the surviving daughter of the King, agreed to become a vestal virgin. But soon after taking the vow of chastity she became pregnant. There is plenty of debate over who the father was. Some think he was the God of Mars and others believe the father was Hercules."

  "Hercules? Really? Wasn't he mortal?"

  "Half mortal half God."

  "Like you?" Mirabella teased.

  "I'm no god," he sighed.

  "Really? Tell that to the men who worship and fear you, to your children, to your sister!" she chuckled. "You may not be God, but you are the all mighty powerful in their lives."

  "Is that a problem? For you? For them?" he glanced over at her.

  She smiled. "Nope. Because I know parts of you, they don't. I know you're a man who strives to do the right thing even if you have to do many bad things along the way. To me, you're not a God. You're just my husband."