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

by Sienna Mynx

  "They are identical, ain't they?" Minnie asked of Gino. Gianni who ran from her to Mirabella.

  "Yes, they are. Identical," Mirabella chuckled.

  Minnie clasped her hands together. "Tomorrow we are having a cookout at your grandfather’s church. You know Clyde Jr. is the pastor now. Everybody is coming."

  It didn't surprise Mirabella. Minnie was well respected in the town and the only one that Mirabella often spoke to. She relayed the news of the celebrity from Apple Grove who never came home. But, who also put a factory here to employ the people, and pretty much owned half of the town.

  "Let's get the luggage," Clyde said to the men. Giovanni followed. Lorenzo and Marietta finished their conversation, and he let her go. She returned to Mirabella with a deep blush to her cheeks. She wiped away her tears. Minnie reached for Gianni, but he held on tight to Mirabella's neck. She knew that Giovanni said she should try not to spoil him so much, but it was hard. She pulled Gianni from her.

  "This is your auntie, and she just wants to give you a hug. Can you do that for Mommy?" she asked him in Italian. "I'll give you candy."

  Gianni looked at the grinning Minnie, who had her hands up, reaching for him. At first, Mirabella didn't think he would. But something in Minnie's warm smile won him over. Gianni reached for her. Minnie celebrated by spinning around and kissing on him. It spooked Gianni, and he squealed for his mother again. But Minnie turned and went to the front porch steps.

  "I'm in love," Minnie chuckled. "C'mon then, let's get you settled inside. I went to the grocery, so there is a little bit of everything. No one stays here. Me and my baby girl Ellie cleaned the place and put in fresh linen. But no one stays here. We keep it just as you said."

  "What does she mean by that? How does she keep it?" Marietta whispered.

  "The way I left it," Mirabella answered softly.

  "So you don't rent the place out? It's pretty big," Marietta said.

  "No. I don't." Mirabella replied. "Thank you, Minnie, for going through the trouble."

  When they followed Minnie up the steps, Eve was first to take off running down the wooden porch. She jumped on the glider and rocked back and forth.

  "No bother. We have missed you so much. So happy you came!"

  Mirabella knew that wasn't true. Half the town hated her, and the other half was too young to remember her and didn't care. She believed Minnie missed her, and Clyde cared. But that was it. Minnie opened the door. Marietta went inside and the kids next. Mirabella didn't move. She couldn't move. It was as if someone had nailed her feet to the porch. Marietta glanced back at her with a worried smile. Mirabella closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And for the first time since her grandfather's funeral she walked back into the past.

  ***

  François chose Le Taillevent for dinner. He walked them through the restaurant as if he owned it, proud as a peacock. Très chic, très hip, très sexy! It's what they often said about François. The man was the epitome of fashion and represented Mirabella's design house since Montague was escorted out. Possessing a very classic handsomeness, he wore a dark velvet blazer, with a crisp white shirt open at the collar, for a polka-dot, royal blue and white ascot neck tie. His hair was black as coal, and smoothed from his face with the kind of mousse that made it look polished. Several diners paused to look at François as he passed. He paid them no mind. But he had their full attention. His nails were painted, and his pinkie nails had silver dagger tips. He carried in his arms a small dog that nipped and glared at everyone they passed.

  Rosetta was the second to prance and flaunt her beauty and status. She walked behind François with her chin up and her hair swaying. She wore the designer sunglasses Catalina gave her and peered at everyone from over the top. She paused for Catalina to catch up and whispered in her ear.

  "They’re staring at us. They know who we are."

  It was true. This time of year brought out the spectators. And since Milano, Catalina's face had been featured on the cover of several magazines. But she didn't care. She'd spent most of her brain energy trying to concentrate on work and seeing through what Mirabella asked of them. And the rest of her mental energy praying Armando didn't just walk up to her at the most inappropriate time.

  Every feeling of anxiety or stress drained when Catalina looked up to see a special person waiting for them. Seated at an all-white cloth table, with gold plated silverware, was Jamie.

  She was beautiful. Her hair was dark at the roots but magenta red at the tips and curly. Her brown skin was flawless, with makeup so precise she'd put any supermodel in their business to shame. She waved her hand and wiggled her pink nails at them and stood. Catalina smiled. She glanced to Rosetta who stared on with wide-stretched eyes. She had told Rosetta that Jamie used to be a man and what she looked like. She wanted Rosetta to carry herself with class and not embarrass her if by some chance she found out. Now she wished she hadn't. One look at Jamie and you didn't see a man in a dress. No. You saw a fierce, confident woman in charge of her life. Jamie wore a slimming black dress with large, vibrant, colorful flowers pinned to the swoop neck collar, which reached low enough to reveal her double Ds. And she had on boots that stretched up to her thighs and made her go from a solid six-foot-two to six-foot-seven.

  "Catalina!" Jamie pulled her into a hug. Catalina hugged her back. "And who is this baby doll?"

  "She's my cousin Rosetta," Catalina said. "Rosetta this is Jamie. She and Kyra run the shoe division of Mirabella's."

  "Bonjour," Rosetta said with a shy smile.

  "My, aren't you cute. Honey, she looks just like you, Catalina. You sure you aren't twins?" Jamie chuckled. "It runs in the family."

  "I'm positive," Catalina said and took a seat. They all sat at the round table. Two waiters served them. Jamie had already chosen the bottle of wine, and glasses were poured.

  "So how was your flight?" Jamie asked.

  "Long, why weren't you at the meeting? We have set up offices in the Four Seasons." Catalina put up her hand to stop the pour of wine. She sipped her water instead. She hadn't eaten, and she needed some nourishment.

  "Kyra isn't doing too well."

  "What?" Catalina asked.

  "Physically she will be okay, but she was pretty much driving me crazy with changes, hon. Now Renaldo's with her so I can breathe again. I needed to redo some of the changes she requested for the shoe line. It ain't easy."

  Catalina nodded. She glanced over to Rosetta who kept staring at Jamie. She kicked her under the table. Rosetta lowered her gaze and tried to seem at ease.

  "How is Mirabella?" Jamie asked.

  "We miss her so much," François said.

  "She's off to America." Rosetta chirped up.

  "Really?" Jamie’s eyes stretched. "Why didn't she come to Paris?"

  "Family trip," Catalina said.

  "Veuillez s'il vous plaȋt m'excuser," The waiter said and touched Catalina's shoulder. "There is a call for you."

  "For me?" Catalina asked a bit surprised. "No one knows I'm here."

  "Forgive me, darlin’, but I told Darla we would be here. So the hotel knows." François said

  Catalina nodded. It was around seven, which meant that it was about two in the afternoon in America. Mirabella probably wanted a full update. Catalina followed the waiter to the back of the restaurant and then to an office over to the left that was very posh.

  "You can take the call here," he said in French.

  "Merci," she replied.

  "Ciao? This is Catalina."

  "Try the handmade fergola. I hear they make it taste just like the mothers of Sardinia."

  "Who is this?" Catalina asked.

  "You know who," he replied.

  "How did you find me? Are you..."

  "At Le Taillevent? No. You didn't invite me." Armando said.

  "What do you want?" Catalina asked.

  "To see you. Alone. To finish what we started in Mondello."

  "No! I have my men with me. I have my team with me. If I am seen with
you I..."

  "We'll figure it out. Make time. For me. It's important."

  "No!" she said, and he hung up.

  If either of Domi's men even suspected Mancinis were in the building, they would snatch her and Rosetta back to Italy fast. If Rosetta saw her with Armando, she was certain she would blab it to everyone. What was she going to do? Catalina stood and put her hands to her head. She had to be calm. She had to do as she and Marietta said. She had to think it through.

  ***

  Armando looked over to the six cassette tapes on his desk. Six copies of the truth, and weapons for revenge. Was he an idiot for even playing the game this far? It had already cost him. Giovanni was forcing him out of inner circles that should never be closed to him. He tapped his fingers on the desk and considered his alternatives. Sure he could weaken Giovanni in the eyes of the Dons of la cosa nostra. And he’d definitely gain leverage with the clan bosses of la Camorra. It could work. But it wouldn't recover what he'd lost. And in the process, it would destroy his sisters. Despite it all, he was cursed by the promise he made to his father. They were his blood. He had to protect them. When they found Mirabella in the state, she was it enraged him. When he saw how weak and fragile she was after Giovanni carried her out of the place of torment, he knew. He had fallen in love with his sisters. The only way to gain everything he wanted was to be smarter than Giovanni. At every turn.

  "Boss?"

  Armando looked up.

  "They’re here. All of the press. Even the reporters from America. I’ve set them up in the gardens."

  Armando nodded. "What else?"

  Ignacio stepped inside and closed the door. "Don Pietro has shut down all business in Porto Empedocle. It’s gone past aligning with Giovanni. They are already doing business. He is no longer an ally."

  "How is that possible? He and my father were best friends. He's loyal to the Mancinis. Get Falsone on the phone. I want to know where my shipment is.”

  “Giovanni has claimed it.”

  “Bullshit! Bullshit! He doesn’t claim anything! Get Falsone on the fucking phone now!” Armando shouted.

  Ignacio shook his head. "He hasn't returned any of my calls. And I hear that our ships are being searched by the Ministry. Word just came in from the marina."

  "Giovanni doesn't have any pull with the ministry... this is not possible."

  "He had someone report us. Either way, Giovanni isn't planning on a street fight, Boss. The Battaglias have moved out of Sicily. His men are off the streets. Tacchini is running the street operations, and so are the Benicia's. He's closing in. This is war."

  "They are idiots! Idiots! He's making a move, and they are already bending over and taking it up the ass!"

  "We need to stop Giovanni cold. Hit him hard, Boss. Cut his throat. Those tapes can slow him down. Use them. Now!"

  Armando looked at the tapes. He nodded in agreement. "First, we do the press. Then we leave for Paris."

  "Paris?" Ignacio asked.

  "Make the arrangements. We will be staying at the Four Seasons."

  ***

  Giovanni plopped down in the chair near the television. It rocked a bit. A large recliner with a crank to the side of it lifted his feet. Marietta was in the kitchen washing dishes. She fed the kids first. She was now cooking dinner for everyone else. Mirabella was upstairs bathing the children. It only took a minute for both of the sisters to fall into the routine.

  It was only now that Giovanni could absorb the place. His eyes scanned the walls. There was a painting of a horse and wagon in an open prairie. It had an orangish brown weathered look to it. On the other side of the wall was a portrait of Jesus next to a framed picture of Martin Luther King Jr. His gaze switched to the shelves. There he saw his Bella in every stage of her life. A picture of her at about six or seven with two front teeth missing and long pigtails. There was another picture of her as a teenager with braces on her teeth. And then his gaze stopped to the teenager who posed for what looked like a special event. He'd imagined that his daughter would grow up to be as beautiful. His gaze stopped on a picture of the grandparents she loved so much, with her as a child on her grandfather’s knee. And then it struck him. There were no images of her mother. Didn't she return to Apple Grove with Mirabella as a babe? Where were the pictures of her mother when she was a young girl?

  Lorenzo sat on the sofa and removed his sunglasses. "So, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?" he asked. "The Gambinis won't be here for another few hours."

  There was a television. The kind you had to change the channels with a dial. But a box for the cable sat on top with a remote. He glanced at the television to Lorenzo who threw his hands up in disgust. His cousin went over and picked up the remote and got the video working. He scanned several channels and paused on CNN. There was an image of Mirabella on the screen.

  Lorenzo looked back to him. Giovanni lowered the leg lift of the chair and sat forward. Lorenzo turned up the volume, but not loud enough for the girls to hear. The reporter spoke of the upcoming event in Paris. And then he switched gears. The next image was of him and their family during the interview in Milan. Giovanni bristled. He didn't like the exposure, but he tolerated it for his wife. And then his blood ran cold. The image switched to the anchor announcing a live telecast from Sicily. Armando Mancini was speaking to the press.

  "So, I know many of you are surprised by the news. No one is more surprised than me. The truth is, when I learned that Mirabella Ellison was my long lost sister I didn't believe it. My father was a complicated man, but he kept the shame and secret of his infidelity with Mirabella's mother from the family. Unfortunately, it's a quite tragic story... her mother was a heroine junkie..."

  Lorenzo shut the television off. He looked at Giovanni for his reaction. Giovanni knew it would happen, and Mirabella feared it would happen this way.

  "The women are going to go nuts over this, Giovanni," Lorenzo said and sat down. He tossed the remote. "Marietta isn't to have stress. He is on the television telling the world everything! We should have planned for this."

  "It has to happen this way. I needed him to react this way."

  "Why? To humiliate us?"

  "Are you humiliated, cousin? Does the fact that your wife is Marsuvio's bastard shame you?" Giovanni bit back.

  Lorenzo put his face in his hands.

  "Armando is reacting. He's pushing hard to be the first at everything. I want him desperate, angry, because if he is, he isn't focused."

  "Are you going to go upstairs and tell your wife that the world knows her mother is a heroine junkie and a whore?" Lorenzo snapped. "Because I can tell you this, Marietta is going to flip out."

  Giovanni sighed. He glanced to the television set again. He pushed up from the chair without another word and started for the stairs. He was curious to see the room she grew up in as well. It couldn't be the one he left the luggage in. The moment he entered the hall he heard the laughter of the kids. It drew him.

  Inside the bathroom, his wife knelt near the tub. Gino stood for his bathing. Eve and Gianni sat in the tub splashing and playing. Giovanni leaned against the door and watched them. He had a plan for all of them. And that meant people would be hurt. But if it brought his enemies to their knees, and Isabella out of hiding, so be it.

  "Ciao, Papa!" Eve said and splashed Gianni.

  Mirabella looked back over her shoulder.

  "Hi, lucciola. Need some help, Bella?"

  "Help? You want to help me?" Mirabella chuckled as she used the rag to clean Gino's ears. His baby boy squeezed his eyes shut with a wide grin. The bath suds ran from his curly fro to his face. Mirabella wiped them clean to make sure none got in his eyes. She then used a large cup of water to pour over his head. Gino laughed, almost cheered with excitement.

  "Yes. I can take over. Give you a break."

  Mirabella paused. Not once since the kids were born did he give them baths together. A few times he took his boys into the shower with him, yes, and often washed them with him. But it was nev
er an organized bath like this one. Mirabella rinsed off Gino and stood.

  She handed the rag to her husband. "Go ahead. Let's see you give it a try."

  Giovanni rolled up his sleeves. He took the rag and went to his children. All three stopped playing. They stared at him curiously. Mirabella scooted away and leaned on the sink. When he looked up at her, she had a sardonic smile on her lips. He had faced tougher obstacles in life than bathing his bambini. How hard could a simple bath be?

  "Come, Eve," he said. His baby girl stood up and frowned. He wasn't quite sure what was appropriate when cleaning a baby girl. He lathered the rag and wiped her down. He avoided her private area. And at that moment Gianni splashed hard in the water causing a large wave to leave the tub. Giovanni turned his head to chastise him when the boys began to wrestle in the water. He let go of Eve too soon to stop his sons. She nearly slipped. Giovanni was quick to react when he lunged for her, and that sent him into the tub from the waist up. The kids hollered with laughter. They all began to splash. They jumped on him and tried to bring him in.

  "That's enough!" Mirabella interceded. Giovanni was able to flop back, and he wet the floor. "Stop laughing, babies. Papa had an accident," she said and finished cleaning Eve.

  Embarrassed over his fall, he glanced to Mirabella, who tried to swallow her smile.

  Giovanni smiled. He got on his knees and joined his wife. He watched as she finished bathing the three like a pro. The kids kept laughing and grinning at him.

  "So you think that's funny?" he asked his children.

  "Yeeeeesss!" They said in unison.

  He tickled Gianni, who kicked and bucked and splashed. He went after Eve and Gino next. Soon there was more water on him than inside the tub. Mirabella gave up. She tossed the rag and stood over them with her hands on her hips. Then she turned and left.

  The kids were so tickled, they held their tummies and laughed until their faces were red. Giovanni smiled. With his children, he felt a sense of calm. Life at times could be so simple. It was always the choices of adults that fucked it up.