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

by Sienna Mynx

"Here, bath time is over," Mirabella handed him a towel. She then dropped more on the toilet and began to lift the kids out one by one. Giovanni sat on the floor again. Gino came over naked and jumped on him. Gianni did as his brother. Eve tried, but Mirabella caught her and forced her to be dried off. He played with the boys and tickled them until it was their turn to put on their training pants and get dressed for bed.

  "Thanks for the help," Mirabella said.

  "Anytime. How about I bathe you next?" he asked.

  She shook her head smiling. "Go to the room and get undressed. You're wet. Marietta will be done with cooking soon."

  "Which room is yours?"

  "Mine?" she frowned.

  "Yes. The one you had as a girl. I want you to go to that room," he said.

  "It's where the children will sleep." She put on Gianni's nightclothes and then ushered them out of the bathroom. Giovanni pushed up from the floor and grabbed a towel to dry his face. He went after his wife. The room she entered had twin pink canopy beds. He paused, confused by them.

  "I insisted on having those beds growing up. I knew I would never have a sister, but I convinced my grandparents to let me have sleepovers quite a bit."

  He looked at the ribbons and trophies on the dresser. She won many spelling bees and a few honor rolls. He picked up polaroids of her and girlfriends, and others of just her at different events in school. The kids were running around grabbing the stuffed animals and books.

  "So, this was you?" he asked.

  "It was me. Not much to see huh?"

  "You never had the room cleaned out or changed?" he asked.

  "No."

  "Why?"

  "I haven't changed anything in this house. I guess part of me wanted to keep this place the same. Forever. To hold on to the love here. There was lots and lots of love here for me."

  She picked up a book. She opened it and flipped the pages. She then handed it to him. "Here I am my senior year."

  "You were so skinny," he smiled.

  "I still am," she nudged him. He flipped the pages of the book. He didn't see any more images of her, but plenty of images of the school and people who knew her. She took the book from his hand and then kissed him. He drew her back in to his embrace. She hugged him.

  "Are you two in love?" Eve asked. She stared up at her parents with a book in her hand. "Are you going to get married?"

  "We are already married," Mirabella said.

  "Are you going to kiss now?"

  "Kiss?" Giovanni asked.

  "Yes. I see you doing it all the time. I saw Catalina and Domi kiss. And Nico and Cecilia kiss, too. You do it because you are in love?" Eve asked.

  Giovanni smiled down at his daughter. "Yes, lucciola. This is love."

  "Che fico! Cause I love Nico," Eve grinned. "I'm going to kiss him."

  "No you will not," Giovanni said.

  Eve nodded in defiance to her daddy. "And one day we are going to get married."

  Mirabella laughed. She grabbed his face and kissed him for her daughter. Eve walked off to her brothers with her book. He stopped kissing his wife. "Did you hear her? The things in her head. Where does it come from?"

  "Leave her alone, Gio. Every girl has her first love."

  "Is that right? Nico? My lucciola? Never gonna happen!" Giovanni said loud enough for Eve to look up and frown at her daddy. Mirabella smiled. "It's not funny, Bella."

  "Who was your first love?" Mirabella asked.

  "You," he answered. "Who was your first love, Bella?" He asked with a sly smile.

  "I think you've met him," she teased.

  He pinched her butt, and she laughed. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I am in love with you, and you are the first and only man I can truly say I've ever really loved."

  "Good answer!"

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Upside Down

  Apple Grove, Virginia - USA

  "That was good eating, baby." Lorenzo burped, then patted his tummy.

  Marietta laughed. He cracked her up. She winked and forked some more of her homemade mashed potatoes in her mouth with a sexy smile. When she glanced over to Giovanni's plate, she noticed it was clean too. She arched an eyebrow and met his stare.

  She waited.

  "Brava! Molto bene. Very tasty, grazie, Marietta," Giovanni said.

  "Prego, Don Giovanni," she said with a curt nod.

  "Where did you learn to cook like this? All you had was some potatoes, eggs, butter, milk, and chicken cutlets." Mirabella said.

  "I had a few vegetables and some flour too. Enough to make dinner for two days. When you've had to survive on very little, you learn how to make a masterpiece out of nothing."

  "Why did you have to survive on very little?" Giovanni asked.

  Marietta shrugged. "Not much work for a sixteen-year-old runaway on the streets of Chicago. Just a lot of trouble to get into."

  "She's something else. Strong, good cook, good wife. Tu sei l'unico per me--you're the only one for me." Lorenzo said and kissed his fingers before tossing the love into the air. Marietta leaned in and kissed her husband. It was a little long on the tongue and pornographic, with the licking and simulated moans of orgasmic pleasure. Mirabella cleared her throat.

  "What, Miss Priss? He's my man; I can give him some tongue action when I want to," Marietta said.

  "Yeah, but I'd like to finish eating first, please." Mirabella shuddered.

  "Fine. We will have a proper dinner conversation. Let's start with this town and you?"

  Mirabella looked up from her dinner. Her fork froze above her plate.

  "Why did you leave this palace and go out into the big dangerous world?"

  Everyone looked to Mirabella. She ate a few bites and drank her lemonade before she cleared her throat and spoke. "I was seventeen, almost eighteen. I did what most kids that age do. I left," Mirabella said and then looked at her watch. "I feel weird. Tired. Look at that sun," she gestured her head toward the window. "It's still early. It's only seven. "

  "If we were home it would be midnight," Giovanni said. "It's gonna take some time to adjust."

  "I feel fine," Lorenzo said as he cleaned his teeth with his tongue. "Wish I had some desert, though."

  "What time is this party for you tomorrow, Bella?" Giovanni asked.

  "Minnie said the cookout would start at two," Mirabella answered. "It's a party for all of us, not just me. Word travels fast in this town. Everyone is coming. So many people want to meet you," she pointed at Marietta.

  "Me? Why me?"

  "You're the long lost daughter finally coming home," Giovanni said.

  "Consider yourself the guest of honor," Mirabella teased.

  It made Marietta feel good. She loved the attention. However, she still felt a bit troubled by how her sister avoided the subject of talking about her past here in Apple Grove. There was a knock at the door. Marietta glanced up.

  "I'll get it. Probably a cousin or two coming by to see us. We can expect visits and phone calls." Mirabella pushed away from the table and left to answer the door. Marietta reached for the pitcher of lemonade. Minnie had made them a fresh pitcher before they arrived and it was so good it was almost gone.

  "Uhm, Giovanni, these men are here..."

  Marietta looked up. Two men walked in. One was short; one was tall. Both looked mean and Italian. The tall one wore dark sunglasses and had thick curly hair with a mustache so thick it covered his top lip. The short one was clean shaven and had no facial hair. But his tan was so dark it didn't look natural. He wore a shiny grey suit with a black silk shirt and kept it unbuttoned. Gold chains were around his neck and many gold rings adorned his fingers. His diamond gold watch caught Marietta's eye. She'd seen his kind before. She dealt with men like him in Chicago.

  "Giovanni! Che piacere vederti! " The short one said and opened his arms.

  A confused Mirabella stepped back. Giovanni stood, and so did Lorenzo. Marietta wasn't sure what to make of the reunion, as their men hesitated at first and didn't
return the warm greeting. But Giovanni softened. He walked over and greeted the man in a friendly manner. And then without a word to his wife and Marietta, he told them in Italian they would speak outside.

  "Who are they?" Marietta asked.

  "I'm not sure. The short one took a look at me and just walked right in like I was the maid," Mirabella frowned. "Asshole. I guess Giovanni and Lorenzo were expecting them."

  Mirabella came back over to the table and sat.

  "I didn't know they knew people in this town," Marietta said.

  "Trust me, they aren't from here," Mirabella said. "And I would use the word people loosely for those two."

  "What's the difference between those thugs and our husbands?" Marietta pointed out.

  Mirabella opened her mouth to object. She glanced at the door and realized she couldn't.

  "Forget this." Marietta walked around the table. She went to the window.

  "Where are you going?" Mirabella asked.

  Marietta moved the curtain and peeked outside. The men were standing near the car that brought the two thugs. The trunk was open. A gun was handed to Lorenzo. He checked the chamber and aimed it at an unseen target. Two guns were given to Giovanni.

  "I don't believe this shit. We aren't in the country for a few hours and already they're buying guns!"

  "What?" Mirabella stood. She walked over to the window and pushed her sister aside so she could look outside.

  Marietta turned from the window. "What exactly do they think will happen out here? A farmer will run them over with a tractor!"

  "They had to have planned it," Mirabella said.

  Mirabella returned to the table and reached for the pitcher. Her hand shook she was so furious. The thought of violence made her queasy. She poured herself a cup.

  "Did Giovanni tell you?" Marietta asked.

  "Tell me what?" Mirabella answered.

  "Tell you that Armando had a press conference and called our mother a junkie whore!"

  Frozen in disbelief Mirabella nearly dropped the pitcher. "What?"

  "That's right. He went public. Said his family was shocked because Marsuvio was too ashamed to tell them that we existed. The jerk!"

  "He didn't say a word."

  "And this happens now? With the show in Paris? Seriously? The press is going to eat us alive," Marietta said.

  "Lower your voice" Mirabella warned. “The kids are upstairs sleeping.”

  "When is it too far? When do you draw the line? He didn't even have the decency to tell you. Now..."

  “I knew this was going to happen the minute I found out that Giovanni declared war on Armando. It was his call to make. Not mine. Not yours.”

  “Oh please!”

  “I was hoping to convince Gio to back off. I guess it's too late."

  "Damn right it is. Armando had no right to make a public spectacle of our mother. After everything, his father did to her! Marsuvio Mancini might as well have pushed the needle in her arm."

  "Our father. And yes, he's wrong. But when was the last time you spoke to Armando? Seen him?" Mirabella pressed.

  "What does that matter?"

  "It all matters. He tried to reach out to us, and we pushed him away. Only call on him when we want something. He's a man, just like our husbands. And hurt people hurt people. The best way to deal with Armando is to end this feud with him and our husbands. Before it destroys us all."

  "And how the hell do we do that with your husband creating all this drama?"

  Mirabella sighed. "Not by challenging Gio. It won't work with him. He expects us to be emotional and irrational. Don't worry. I will work on him."

  "Yeah, yeah, well we'll see how far that takes us," Marietta scoffed. The two of them sat in silence for a minute. Both of them watching the door, not sure what danger their husbands chose to face now.

  "So, what do you think?" Mirabella asked.

  "About what?" Marietta asked.

  "All of this. I've seen you looking around the house. Picking up pictures. Opening drawers and cabinets. You had a lot of questions for Minnie. What do you have for me?"

  Marietta sat back down. "I don't know. It's weird. I feel like I'm home, but still, I feel like nobody's home. Do you get what I mean?"

  "Yes. This place is so familiar, even if it’s your first time visiting. I wanted it that way. It feels the same way it did when our grandparents were alive."

  "Exactly! Familiar, yes, that’s the word."

  "I wish you could have met them. They would have loved you." Mirabella smiled.

  "I see the pictures of them and you. I wish I could have met them too. It would have made such a difference in my life." Marietta frowned. "Mirabella?"

  "Yes?"

  "Where are the pictures of Mama? You got everything on the shelf and the wall. Even Martin Luther King. What about Mama?" she asked.

  "They were destroyed. Except for the few pictures, I found in the attic."

  Marietta looked up to the ceiling. "Who destroyed them?"

  "Granddaddy. And for years he never explained to me why. I think her death broke him. It was too hard for him to face how he failed her. I dunno. I just know growing up she wasn't on the shelf. And Me-Ma would only tell me stories about her when Granddaddy wasn't around."

  "That's crazy. Don't you think that's crazy? She was his daughter. How could he do that?"

  "I dunno. I didn't know our mother. Far as I knew, they were my parents. I never really questioned it. And when I got old enough to understand how crazy it was, Me-Ma died. Granddaddy didn't talk. He kept a lot of his pain bottled inside."

  "Okay. I guess," Marietta said. She shifted to another subject. "Hey, why do you have two twin beds upstairs? In that room with the pink bedspreads. Was that your room?"

  Mirabella nodded. "Yeah. It was mine. Weird huh? Clyde and Minnie kept everything preserved in here. Especially my room."

  "Why twin beds though?"

  "I wanted a sister or brother. Felt like I had one. I guess I wanted the bed for you. For the day you came home."

  "Let's sleep in there tonight. You and me. It'll be fun!"

  "What?" Mirabella laughed. "The kids are in there."

  "Put them in bed with the King. He can be Papa for the night. You and I can stay up and just talk. Like, sisters. Have a slumber party."

  Mirabella smiled. "I like that idea. Yes. Okay. I will have to convince my husband. And you will have to convince yours. Let's do it!"

  "Is that a record player over there?" Marietta pointed. "That large wooden console over there?"

  Mirabella glanced back to the piece of furniture that looked like a four-foot tall wooden chest with pictures on top. She nodded and sipped her lemonade. "That there, sister dear, is a vintage Curtis Mathes solid walnut console, with a turntable record player, eight-track player with a stereo system built inside. It is now a piece of plant and picture furniture."

  "Are you kidding me? Like, are there albums inside? I remember a neighbor had one of those."

  "Take off the pictures and lift the lid. See for yourself."

  "I will!" Marietta grinned.

  "I may not have been able to do much when I was growing up, but I had my music. When I turned sixteen, Granddaddy surprised me with it. He even tolerated my music. It was just him and me then. He would rock in his chair on the porch and read his paper, while I played every new record I could get my hands on, and dance until I was exhausted. Some of the best memories for me."

  Marietta pushed back from the table and walked over to the cabinet. She removed the pictures, plant, and doily cover. Mirabella turned in her chair and watched. Her sister opened the chest to find many albums and eight track cassettes inside. She looked almost overcome with giddiness.

  "Girl, you have everything!" Marietta exclaimed.

  "Shhhh... The kids, remember?" Mirabella warned.

  "Diana Ross! Upside Down, boy you turn me!" Marietta rolled her hips. "We got Michael Jackson 'Off the Wall,' Kool and the Gang 'Ladies Night' and oh my God! Pointer
Sisters 'He's So Shy'. Everything!"

  Mirabella smiled. "Go ahead. Play something. Just keep the volume down."

  "Oh, okay!" she grinned. She put on the S.O.S. Band 'Take Your Time (Do it Right)'.

  "Baby, you can do it..." Marietta said dancing around the room. "Take your tiiimmeeee!"

  Mirabella laughed.

  "Get up! Dance! C'mon. Dance with me," Marietta said.

  Mirabella got up. The two of them moved the coffee table to make room in the living room. She snapped her fingers and swayed her hips. Caught up in laughter and the rhythm, they danced around the living room bumping hips and working their shoulders. It was the best of times.

  ***

  "It took us forever to find this fucking place," Angelo Gambini said. He zipped up the duffel bag with the approved weapons of choice for Giovanni and Lorenzo. He tossed them over to Lorenzo who caught them mid toss. "Why the hell are you out here? In the woods. Not enough of this backward shit in Italy?"

  "Family," Giovanni said without a hint of smile.

  "Eh, Gio, ignore my brother. He runs at the mouth like diarrhea. He only means you are welcome in Philly. Dad would love to see you," Reno said. Angelo looked over to his brother Reno. Giovanni knew the look. He waited for the men to speak their mind. Lorenzo did as well. Angelo wasn't pissed about the drive into Virginia. No, he was pissed like his father, over Giovanni's declaration. He would need to have the balls to say it to Giovanni's face.

  "I hear there's trouble in Sicily now. A lot of confusion," Angelo said what his cousin Reno couldn't.

  Lorenzo dropped the bag to his feet and stared down at Angelo. Why was it the little ones who always had the biggest mouths? Giovanni cut his gaze over to Lorenzo to remind him to keep his cool. His children were inside, and they weren't at home.

  "All business has stopped, Gio. We have our concerns. If the Dons of Sicily decide to turn against Mancini, then we too have to make a call. Decide where we stand. You understand. We got a lot invested in la Camorra."

  "My wife is a Mancini. Your father knows it, and now the Dons of Sicily know it. This is a family matter, not a business matter. And when it does become a business matter I'll speak to your father about it. Capisce?"