by Sienna Mynx
They traveled into the night at a slow trot. The clip of the horse hooves over the earth beneath them, and the warm breeze made the journey peaceful. She relaxed and almost forgot about the story of the twins who founded Rome. Until Giovanni began again with his story.
"Amulius discovered the truth about Rhea's pregnancy and was furious. He thought the twins would grow up and one day challenge him for the throne. To save their lives from the jealous king, the babies were put into a little basket and sent down the Tibris river."
"Is this a sad story? I want a love story," she sighed.
"Well, it's the only story I know right now. Let me finish."
"Reminds me of Moses, the baby in the basket part..."
He sighed.
"Okay, go on, sweetheart. I'm listening."
"The basket ran aground. It was discovered by a she-wolf."
"Stop right there," she said and sat upright. "I won't listen to a story of twin baby boys being eaten by a wolf!"
"Porca miseria! Woman. Can you please be quiet long enough for me to finish the tale?" he pleaded.
She crossed her arms with mock anger. He pretended not to notice. "The she-wolf found the babies and immediately protected then. She made them suckle from her breasts and hid them from danger while a woodpecker went out and found food that the babies could eat. A group of shepherds came across the babies and the wolf one day. One of the shepherds convinced the she-wolf to let him have the boys. He swore he would always protect them from harm. The bargain was made. And the shepherd raised the boys as his sons."
"None of this happened," she said.
"Were you there?"
"No."
"Then you can't say it never happened."
"Fine. So, let's say it did happen. Let's say a wolf didn't eat two babes in the woods and let them suckle her breasts. Let's say the wolf didn't eat the woodpecker and instead let it go find food. Exactly how was a wolf able to bargain with a shepherd and turn the babies over to him for protection? Was this some magical wolf?"
Giovanni’s jaw clenched. He was serious about the story. She kissed his shoulder. "Did the boys learn who they were after they were rescued?"
He nodded.
"How?"
He didn't answer.
"Go on. You know you want to tell me," she teased.
"You sure you want to know? It doesn't sound like you enjoy this story."
"I want to know the ending. I'll listen. I promise."
"When they were older they got into arguments with the shepherds of the king. Remus was arrested. Romulus raised a small army of rebellious local shepherds, and in the battle to free his brother his true identity was revealed. Amulius was killed. Remus was freed. The people celebrated."
"That's it? What about Rome?"
"The people wanted to crown the twins both as kings for defeating the evil Amulius. But Romulus and Remus decided to give the throne back to their grandfather who had lost so much because of his brother's treachery."
"And Rome?" Mirabella asked.
"The boys, who were now men, wanted their cities to rule over near where the she-wolf had found them. They fought about it constantly until they built and claimed their territories. Romulus built a wall around his city. Remus did not. He found it ridiculous, and then he became envious of his brother's tenacity, and the accomplishments of his brother in general. He made fun of the wall. He mocked his brother Romulus over and over. And one day Remus jumped over the wall to prove how ineffective it was. Romulus was bitter over the insult and angered by his brother's constant taunts. He killed Remus. To kill a man you either consider your brother or knew was your brother changes you. It changed him. He had to face the world alone. And he did so by founding the city of Rome, and building a government strong enough to keep hold of the empirical rule with balance and governance. Something he and his brother lacked being born and cast away the way they were."
"Wow. Two brothers at war with each other? Does sound like Cain and Abel."
After all of her teasing of him and half-listening, she hadn't truly understood the message he was trying to convey. But deep in this story, there was something Giovanni wanted to say.
"Why tell me this story?" she asked.
"You asked me to tell you a story," he said.
"But why this one? About the brothers? About the jealousy of brothers? Is it because of Rocco and Tomosino?"
He didn't answer.
"What is it? Talk to me, sweetheart, not in riddles. Just talk to me. You're different. I know I'm different and things have been hard the past few weeks for us. But something is bothering you, and you're keeping it all inside. Is it Lorenzo? Domi? What?"
"Today.... the boys had a disagreement. It was over a toy," he said.
"Yes, I came in, and they were crying."
"The argument had ended long before Mama arrived," Giovanni said with a wry smile. "I watched them fight. Disagree, struggle to force their will on each other. And then Gianni fell." Giovanni looked over to his wife. He stared at her and not the road. "He fell on his back and started to cry. He wasn't hurt, but he was in pain. He had lost to Gino. And at that moment they weren't equals anymore. And Gianni didn't know how to deal with being second best. What boy wants to be second? We all grow up wanting to be first. Especially to our fathers." Giovanni shook his head. Mirabella held her tongue. "And then Gino did something that made me proud. That gave me hope for my sons."
"What did he do?" Mirabella asked. She was tense all over.
"He went to his brother and helped Gianni sit up. He gave him the toy. The fight was over. Gino didn't feel like he lost. He felt like he protected his brother's feelings. He sat next to Gianni and played with him. He made a choice. It was an instinct for him. An instinct my father didn't have with Rocco. An instinct I've tried to share with Lorenzo and Domi, but I've failed."
"You have not failed. Lorenzo and Domi are your brothers. They trust and believe in you."
"But I don't trust and they know it," he said and his gaze returned to the road. The statement stunned her. It took her some time, but she had learned the rules of their life. Trust was a huge thing for her husband. If he lost it in the men he loved like brothers, he was lost.
"Because of me? Because of my kidnapping and this Isabella woman? You stopped trusting them?"
"My sons," he said and sighed again. "They are my flesh. Possibly my only sons. And everything I leave to them will be divided, shared. Maybe not equally." He forced the horses to slow and stop as they crested over the hilltop. They were next to the skeleton of a dead tree. It's long gnarled branches were twisted upward as if in a death cry. They faced the moon. The storm clouds had moved on. She saw a hint of stars surfacing against the night sky.
"Lorenzo and I were brought up as brothers. From the crib. But I had an advantage. Still, it was only half of an advantage because of my mother and illegitimacy. And he reminded me of that regularly."
"That's the past."
"The past is the future if we don't understand it, Bella."
"I don't understand. Lorenzo is happy, content. Marietta says so."
"That's not what I mean. His need to be more than just the nephew, my need to prove that I am more than just the bastard, is always between us. Even if we don't say so. I don't want that bitter competition to come between my sons."
"They won't grow up to be you and Lorenzo. And they sure as hell won't grow up to be Romulus and Remus. They are energetic little boys in nappies." She grabbed his chin and turned his face to look at her. "And they will be compassionate, determined, stubborn, iron-willed, men in your image for one reason, sweetheart. Because they have you, their hero, as a father." She kissed him. He drew her over onto his lap. She didn't straddle him. The dress she wore made it difficult without hiking it up to her waist. She sat sideways on his lap. The wagon shifted, and she feared for a second the horses would start down the hill, and they both would be thrown off. But the animals remained calm. Her husband, on the other hand, did not. His
kiss was as fiery with passion as it had ever been.
Giovanni eased his hand under her dress and between her shut thighs his fingers reached far enough to stroke her kitty. She grabbed his wrist to keep him from slipping his finger into her.
"Slow down. Are we... ah, going to, uhm? Are we alone out here?"
"Just you and me, Bella," he kissed under her chin, and his lips brushed down the column of her neck.
"You sure?" she asked. The night sounds of hooting birds and crickets carried around her through the wind. And there were shadows, too many to count. The moon only gave a silvery cast of luminance over the land and trees. She pushed out of his arms and sat next to him. It was silly to be scared. But the isolation she lived her life under wasn't forced. Not really. It was imposed from years of not being able to trust the world with Fabiana. Out in the open, she felt their vulnerability and didn't like it.
"What's wrong?" he asked and ran his hand down her arm. "Cold?"
"No, it's just... I dunno. I think it's beautiful. But I kind of want to go back. Should we head back soon?"
He chuckled. He turned and jumped down from the coach seat and walked around the back of the wagon. She heard him making noise there and looked back. Not once since they left in the wagon did she think to look to the back of the wagon. Her heart fluttered at what she found. He had lined it with blankets and pillows. There was a basket of food and wine. He even had oil lanterns. She watched with mild amusement as he lit one then the other.
"You did this? For me?" Mirabella scooted off the seat and dropped down on her feet. She walked around the wagon, dusting her hands. "Oh my goodness! Look at this. I love it!"
Her husband beamed with pride. “When was the last time we did something for us? Just us?" he asked.
"I dunno. Tuesday? You washed my back in the shower, and I washed yours."
He laughed. "It's not what I mean.” He swept her up into his arms. He kissed her brow and then heaved her up so he could sit her on the back of the wagon. It was then that her hand brushed something. She glanced over to her left and saw the black cloth case. It was his guitar.
"You brought it?" she asked. "You brought it to Chianti? Why?"
"For us, for tonight," he said and heaved himself onto the back of the wagon. Mirabella scooted back on her hands and rump, to the pillows. At the end of the wagon, on either side, two tall, iron, raised hooks were mounted. She watched as he lit oil lanterns and secured them on each hook. They no longer needed the moon. The candlelight glow was as bright as a campfire. The lights swayed against the push of the breeze, but the flames trapped inside the glass shield did not extinguish. Mirabella could feel happiness spread in her heart. Italy was one of the most romantic places in the world. She discovered this by falling in love here. Tonight all she felt was that happiness and calm she found with him when they pushed drama from their lives.
Tonight would be special. Giovanni looked over to her, and he winked. She blew him a kiss. She couldn't wait.
Chapter Seventeen
Amore Mio – My Love
Firenze, Italy
"You're shivering," Dominic said.
"No, I'm not," Catalina said. She rubbed warmth into her arms. Dominic turned up the heat in the car, and it gushed from the vents. She glanced to the radio. The dashboard was all lights. However, she could only focus on the time. She prayed Marietta was up. She had to talk to her.
"Are you sure you're okay? You were quiet on the flight home." Dominic asked.
Rosetta sat in the back seat. Catalina could see her staring in the side view mirror. She had to get her act together and fast. It was hard. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. Most of all she wanted to kill Lorenzo for betraying them all so badly. But what she needed to do was far more important than what she wanted.
"Catalina?" Dominic asked.
"Huh?" she answered.
"What is it?" Dominic asked. Damn him. Dominic could always tell when she was hiding something or lying to him.
"I was thinking of how sad Madre was whenever we came here to Chianti. She was only truly happy in Sorrento."
"Not true. Later in life, she loved Mondello. That's why Giovanni buried her there."
"No. Giovanni buried her there because he knew she wanted to be close to father. And he couldn't even give her that. Whatever. Is Lorenzo home? I mean in Chianti?" Catalina asked.
"I think so. I know Giovanni is. He's pissed with me because I didn't tell him I had to leave for Sicily."
"Dominic?" Rosetta chirped in. "I heard Raffaele say that Papa was being taken to an ospedale in Roma. He said that the family was moving out of Sicily. Everyone was coming to Sorrento now."
Catalina glanced over to Dominic to gauge his response. He nodded. But he gave no other explanation. That was the most infuriating part of being a woman born into this family. The secrets. Now their damn secrets would tear them apart. It made her sick with grief and fear.
She pushed in the CD sticking out of the radio player. DJ Quik came on rapping so fast he might as well have been speaking an aien language. Catalina turned up the volume. Dominic didn't complain. And she knew Rosetta would be prevented from asking another stupid question. She finally had peace.
Catalina looked back out of her window. Dominic's hand rested on her thigh. At first, she wanted to knock his touch away. She wasn't sure why, but she was angry at him, too. She was angry at everyone. However, a touch from Dominic calmed her. She put her hand on top of his and squeezed it.
He bobbed his head and rapped the raunchy lyrics.
She loved him. She felt it all the way to her soul. Suddenly she knew the answer. She would do as he would. As any of them would. She'd do whatever necessary to protect their family.
He glanced over at her and winked.
She mouthed the words: "Anch'io ti amo."
***
"Where are we?" Adara mumbled.
Of course, Carlo didn't answer. He got out of the car. Umberto eased out next. Adara had no choice but to wait on the men. She couldn't hear what they discussed. But from what she could tell Carlo gave the orders, and Umberto followed them. Soon after it began, the conversation ended. Carlo walked away. Umberto sat on the edge of the car. Adara rolled down her window and looked out of it as best she could. Carlo approached a phone booth and went inside.
"Mannaggia!" she mumbled. She glanced down to the door latch and saw it was unlocked. She could run. But where to? She could fight them, but without her gun, she could only take one of them down. On this desolate stretch of highway, they could kill and bury her before a single car drove by. She was trapped. The only thing left for her to do was to wait.
Carlo returned from making his call. He and Umberto had words and then Umberto walked away. Carlo went around to her side of the vehicle and opened the door.
"Get out!" he demanded.
She did as he told her. But she was prevented from stepping any further. He crowded her with his height and might. He held on to the door and leaned in. They were face to face when he spoke again. “I work for Giovanni Battaglia, do you know who he is?"
"I know he is," she said.
"He doesn't deal in whores, prostitution, women like you," Carlo said.
"I know that too," she said. "He's a stand-up guy." She snarked. Carlo seemed amused. There was a way he licked his bottom lip and continued to stare into her eyes. There was such rage and control in his stare she felt hypnotized into submission from one look.
"I do like whores, prostitutes, women like you," Carlo smiled.
Adara did not.
"Do you know what that means, Adara?" he asked.
She shook her head no.
"It means your life is spared. The boss said I could have you."
"I'm not his to give," she said defiantly.
He lifted her chin. "Your life is his. The moment you crossed into his world without permission your life belonged to him. Now it belongs to me."
"What do you want?" she asked him.
"We'll
figure that out. Get in the front seat," he said and stepped back. Adara glanced to the old abandoned petrol station. Umberto had sat on the cinder block near where the petrol pumps once were and lit another cigarette without a care in the world. The idiot.
"What about him?" she asked. "He tosses that match in the wrong direction he will blow this place up."
Carlo glanced back to his partner. "Someone will come for him. Fuck him. Get in."
Adara couldn't believe the turn of the night. Though she wasn't out of danger, she had just gotten an invitation to go further than any agent. She smiled at him. His smile wasn't as sincere. Adara stepped out from the open car door and took the seat in the front passenger side. Carlo slammed the door shut. He yelled his goodbye to the man named Umberto and got behind the wheel. Before she could ask a single question, they sped off into the night.
***
"Who was that?" Marietta asked. She had answered the phone and thought the voice sounded like Carlo’s. He wasn't his usual friendly self. After their brief encounter in the wine cellar, he did what he could to avoid her before he left in a blaze of dust with Umberto.
"That was Carlo. He finished a job for Giovanni. Wanted to know what to do about... a situation."
"Oh," she said and eased in under his arm. She threw her leg over his and pressed her face to his chest. He was so tall even when in bed. She loved that about him.
"I'm so tired." She yawned. She stroked his sweaty chest. Lorenzo eased down the mattress and turned over on his side to face her. He kissed her brow.
"Has the baby moved again?" he asked. "Does it move when it hears my voice?"
"The baby gets excited every time she hears your voice," Marietta smiled.
"What does the child feel like? Inside of you?" he asked.
"A tickle. I guess. I can't explain."
"Oh," he said and turned over to his back. "How big is the bambino now?"
"I think it's about the size of a lemon now," she said.
"A lemon? Does it have its hands and feet? Does it have eyes?" he asked.
She chuckled. "Lorenzo? It's a baby, not an alien. I guess it has those things. It's like you, just really tiny. Needs to grow inside me."
