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

by Sienna Mynx

  "Capisco--I understand.” Angelo nodded and grinned. "You still a tough motherfucker. Still, eh, this ain't Italy."

  "Angelo! Let's go," Reno grabbed him by the shoulders and massaged them as if Angelo was a prize fighter. Giovanni shook his head at the brothers and their pathetic display of bravado. He saw the defiance in Angelo's glare but wasn't shaken by it. He'd be happy to teach him a lesson in America.

  "Just saying. You one tough motherfucker who likes to do it the hard way. First the Russians, then the Triad, now the Mafiosi. What's next? Us?"

  Giovanni winked.

  Angelo glanced to Lorenzo; he then glanced to Giovanni. He shook his head with a sly smile and turned and walked away. Reno stuck out his hand to shake Giovanni's. Giovanni didn't return the gesture. He was insulted, but not angry. He wanted that message clear. Reno lowered his hand and nodded respectfully, then got back inside with his cousin. The two men sped off the farmland, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

  "I feel better now that we have these," Lorenzo said. He picked up the bag he dropped and shook it with the guns.

  "You think there will be trouble?" Giovanni asked.

  "There is always going to be trouble, Giovanni, as long as we are at war with the Mafia. The Gambinis are right. We need to neutralize Armando before he gains more support with the other families, here and at home."

  "Have a little faith, cousin. That news conference made him look weak, not strong. The families never air their problems to the world. We have him on the ropes, and I'm just getting started."

  Together they started up the steps to the porch, and both men paused at the sound of music. It was faint but compelling. Giovanni opened the door and released the melody. He paused. It took for him to step inside for Lorenzo to follow. His wife was dancing. She and Mirabella sang a song that sounded faintly familiar. He'd never seen the women so playful and happy. He closed the door and dropped the bag at his feet. He and Giovanni watched. Mirabella walked over to Giovanni and took his hand. Marietta went to the record player and switched albums. She came for Lorenzo after.

  Diana Ross 'Upside Down' began to play. Lorenzo smiled. Marietta danced around her husband and then to the front of him rubbing her hands down his long arms. And when her belly impeded their closeness she turned and put her back to him and moved. He liked it. He danced with her, almost able to match her rhythm. And when he glanced over he saw his cousin smiling. And dancing. Maybe the trip wasn't an entirely bad idea.

  Mirabella’s arms lifted to Giovanni's neck. She danced a little faster to keep up with the tempo of the music. He didn't mind. He could hold her like this forever.

  "Upside down you're turning me... round and round you're turning me..." she sang. She let go of him and started dancing for herself. The song evidently brought back happy memories for her. Giovanni watched and smiled. She came back to him and hugged his waist while moving as the music slowly faded to an end.

  "Let's go for a walk," she said. "Talk?"

  "It'll be dark soon," he teased her. "Aren't you afraid of the dark?"

  "Doesn't matter. Here at night you can see the moon and so many stars." She looked up. "Remember Chianti?"

  His penis stiffened against his leg when she mentioned Chianti. He smiled and nodded. "Then let's go for a walk."

  Marietta was back at the music player. She and Lorenzo were looking at albums.

  "We'll be back," Mirabella said. “Listen out for the kids.”

  The two barely acknowledged them. Giovanni was led outside. Dusk had arrived. The sun was gone from the sky, and it left a trail of reddish purple streaks. Even now he could see a hint of stars.

  "How does it feel to be home?" Giovanni asked.

  "Wonderful." She said and walked ahead of him. She stopped, turned and grinned at him. "Over there is where the apple orchards are. And over there is where my family would grow snap peas, collards, soybeans, and seedless watermelon. Ever had seedless watermelon?"

  He shook his head no.

  "People would come here from town and strap a bucket to the front of their body. They'd pick a basket full and get paid $5 a bucket plus a seedless watermelon."

  He eased his arm around her waist, and she started to walk him toward the trees to the back of the farmhouse. "We had chickens. Let's see if Clyde and his sons keep them."

  He didn't say anything. He let her lead him and talk as fresh memories came to her. Sweet memories to replace all the terrible nightmares she's suffered over the past few weeks. There was no wind for the evening. The air felt humid and thick to breathe. Little tiny bugs flew up out of the tall grass as they walked. Her hand swung while holding his.

  At the back of the house was an empty chicken coop. And a wooden livestock stall that was still fresh with mud for pigs that no longer existed. Mirabella’s hand dropped from his. She sighed with disappointment and walked over to the pig pen. She stared at it.

  "Right here. This is where it happened."

  "Where what happened?" he asked and stepped to her side.

  "Where Cutter and I argued. Where Granddaddy found us."

  "Why were you arguing?" Giovanni asked.

  "I refused to let him control me."

  "So, your grandfather found you here?"

  Mirabella nodded. "He was upset. He confronted me first. I had disobeyed him by seeing Cutter."

  "Was Cutter violent with you?" Giovanni repeated. "Did he hit you?"

  "No. Not exactly. He grabbed me to force me to leave with him. Things spiraled out of control from that point on. And.... well he... we..."

  The gate of emotion that kept the tears and grief safely locked away was thrown open. She collapsed against him in tears. He held her as she tried to share the rest of the story, but he could barely hear the words over her sobs. This man Cutter tried to force her to leave. Her grandfather argued with him. Fought with him. She got in between them. In the middle of the struggle, her grandfather collapsed. Mirabella thought he'd fallen and hurt himself. But he was clutching his arm. His eyes were bulging. It was far more serious. Cutter ran, he left her to deal with it alone. Mirabella called the ambulance and by the time they arrived he was unconscious.

  "It was my fault. He suffered. He never woke. I did it. I might as well have put a gun to his head. I killed him. He was a good man. The purest of men. The best man I’d ever known, and I killed him."

  "He died protecting you. The same as any man who loved you would. It was a horrible incident. But it wasn't your fault. None of it. You were young."

  "And stupid!"

  "Never stupid. You are not a crazy woman. You may have been naive because you were young. But you were not stupid. So forgive yourself."

  He cupped her face in his hands. "Say it. Say I forgive myself."

  She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

  "Say it, Bella."

  "I forgive myself," she said and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He kissed his wife. She smelled nice. She clung to his waist, but her tears didn't stop. They dripped from her closed lashes to her cheeks. He stopped kissing her lips to kiss her lashes and face.

  "I should have told you about this sooner.”

  He knew all too well the complicated relationships a child could have with their parent. And he had enough guilt between him and his father to wash out her pain and drown her in his. They continued with their walk. This time, his arm was locked around her shoulder, and her arm was locked around his waist. There was a short path that opened to a clearing where trees banked the edge of a ridge and a river flowed. Night had completely fallen. It was dark. But a different kind of darkness. The moon and stars made it possible to see each other in the shadows. Mirabella sat at the base of the large oak tree, and Giovanni sat next to her.

  "That's the Greenbrier River. I used to fish and swim in it when I was a kid."

  “Maybe I can teach the boys to fish?” he asked.

  “Really? You know how?”

  He chuckled.

  "What? What's funn
y?"

  "Of course I know how. Water was apart of my life remember? Lorenzo and I used to go fishing with my Patri often. Especially when we moved to the Campania,” he said.

  “Giovanni?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “About you and Armando deciding to let the world know about my mother?”

  Giovanni sighed. He waited for a beat before he spoke again. "So, Marietta told you?"

  "Why didn't you say anything? Do you know how it feels to hear that my mother's drug addiction and affair is now national news?"

  "It had to happen. No matter how we told the world, Bella, the result would always be the same."

  "Why this way? Why go to war with my brother? After all this time? He has never been a threat to you. He saved my life. And I'm grateful Gio, but I'm loyal to you. Only you."

  "War is such a melodramatic term,” Giovanni waved it off. “We’re settling our differences.”

  “War is your word. And I’ve heard you use it more than once.”

  Giovanni chuckled.

  “It’s not funny!”

  “Okay. Va bene. I agree. This is a serious matter. He isn't your brother. He all but said so in the news conference. I am removing everyone from our lives that mean us harm."

  "There has to be a better way."

  "There isn't," he assured her.

  Giovanni stared out at the river. They sat there listening to the crickets and chirps of night birds.

  "So, you don't trust your family?" he asked.

  "I trust Clyde and Minnie. The rest of them? No. That's why I haven't spoken to them all these years. They gave other interviews too. When I was dead. When I came out and revealed, I wasn't. They hate me."

  "Your family hates you?" Giovanni said.

  "When we go to the cookout tomorrow, not everyone will be happy to see me. Or you." She glanced over to him. "Apple Grove is a really small town. I think maybe three or four thousand people live here total. And 90% of them are black. They aren't... used to strangers, and they don't marry people who are different."

  Giovanni chuckled. "Are you telling me they won't like me because of my skin color?"

  "Yes. That is exactly what I'm saying. You're a white man, a foreigner, non-American, rich, yeah all of those things."

  "Okay," Giovanni shrugged. He sat back with his hands at his side and his feet crossed. "I can handle it."

  "I know. I just want you to be prepared. Not all of them are like that. But some. And I want you to keep your pride in check. A little. They don't know your ways. Okay?"

  He gave her a sly smile. "I'm not an alien. I've lived in the States before, Bella. I know how it works here. It works the same way in Italy; you just happen to live in my world."

  "I have a request."

  "Another one?" he asked.

  She smiled. "Marietta and I want to spend the night together in my room. I want to tell her about Granddaddy. Tell her about this farm and our family. Prepare her for tomorrow."

  "And what about me?" he asked.

  Mirabella laid back in the grass. She looked up at the sky. Giovanni dropped to his side and stared down at her. "I'm with you now. Is that enough?" she teased.

  "No." He kissed her cheek, and his hand reached for her breast. For them, lately, the most romantic and peaceful moments were when they made love outside.

  "Can you be quick?"

  "No," he said and kissed her ear. He unbuttoned her jeans and slipped his hand inside. She feared he'd rip the zipper his hand was so large. But he managed to get his hand inside her panties to caress her intimately. Mirabella bit down on her tongue and began to move her hips slowly.

  "You sleep away from me tonight you need to make it up to me," he said.

  She groaned when he pinched her clit and squeezed then rubbed so much friction over it with his two fingers she was bucking her hips and coming for him within seconds.

  Giovanni chuckled. He kissed her jaw and then dropped over. Mirabella sat up a bit, embarrassed and flustered over his ability to bring her to orgasm so quickly. The man owned her body. But what she'd make him admit is that she owned his too. Giovanni rested with his hands folded behind his head and his eyes on the sky. She turned to him and rubbed his chest.

  "Is that all I get?" she asked.

  "You asked if I could be quick. I can’t. So why bother," he said.

  "But I didn't mean..."

  "And you want to sleep with your sister? Leave me alone with the kids."

  "Ah, so you are teasing me?"

  He glanced her way. "That wasn't a tease. Did it feel like a tease?"

  The cooling satisfaction still stirring deep within her womb from her last climax did not seem like a tease at all. It felt like bliss. "Then let me send you to bed properly."

  She unbuckled his belt. She eased down his zipper. His desire had coiled in his dick and made it bulge in the front of jeans. She took her time freeing his length. And then stroked it while looking into his eyes. Her mouth parted when her head went down, and her tongue grazed the dimpled tip. She tasted his excitement in his pre-cum. She knew he wanted more than a hand job. But if she had to go to bed missing him, he'd have to spend the night dreaming of her.

  Mirabella swallowed an inch or two which already reached the back of her throat. She stroked the stalk and relaxed her jaw. She slid her tongue under the veined line of his dick as she drew her mouth off and then swallowed again. His hand was at her head. He grabbed her hair but didn't push her down on him faster or stronger. He withstood. Still, she could see his struggle in his staggered breathing. She suctioned on his length as much as she could taste. She continued to suck and squeeze as her head bobbed until his labored breathing was loud and rough. Until her scalp stung as her hair was pulled from the root. Until her jaws cramped and she had to suppress her reflex for choking. He released, and she swallowed.

  ***

  "Who sings this song?"

  "It's called 'Never Knew Love Like This Before' by Stephanie Mills," she said. "I was fourteen when this one came out. I remember I was still living with my parents; I hadn't run away yet. My first boyfriend was nineteen. Name was Keith. I lost my virginity to him, and this became our song."

  "I don't think I like that," Lorenzo frowned.

  Marietta laughed. "Turns out he was a jerk. I had to learn to love myself. Believe in myself. And when I did I ran away. This song then became my song because I was in love with me. And now I'm in love with you. Get it?"

  "No."

  "Perfect."

  He chuckled. "You are perfect, Marie. I wish I had taken your virginity."

  “Do you?” she grinned.

  “Mmmhmm, I would have been gentle,” he said and thrust his hips against her as they danced.

  She giggled. “Who took your virginity?”

  “A prostitute. The Same one that took it from Santo and Nico. We paid two lire a piece to let us do it.”

  Marietta frowned.

  “How old were you?”

  “Thirteen, fourteen, don’t remember.”

  “Eeew...yuck.”

  “Why is mine yuck! Keith is yuck!”

  “She was a whore!”

  “She was a professional,” he corrected her.

  She shook her head. “No wonder you fuck like a madman.”

  He pinched her side, and she laughed. She began to sing along with the music while swaying in his arms. Lorenzo looked around the small living room. All the faces and memories in the photos, and none of his wife. She was out in the world alone, surviving. He couldn't believe how fate could have denied him her protective love. How close he could have come to never knowing her. He closed his eyes and listened to the words of the song while holding her close. It was true. He never knew love like her before. She turned his world around. He'd never forget what was most important in his life. Her and their child. At that moment he didn't even care whether it was a boy or a girl. Just a piece of him and pie
ce of her. Their family. Something his mother swore he'd never have. Something his sister tried to convince him he didn't earn. She was his. All his.

  Lorenzo lowered his face and rested it on the top of her head.

  Never knew... Never knew love like this... Never...

  ***

  The door opened.

  "Took you long enough," Mirabella said. She put down her memory book from high school. The only light in the room was from the lamp between the twin beds. Marietta closed the door softly. She wore a robe that was quite short and thin. She was free of makeup and showered, but Mirabella could tell by her flushed state that Lorenzo was responsible for her delay.

  "I had to put my big baby to sleep. He should be satisfied for the rest of the night." Marietta grinned.

  "Spare me the details." Mirabella rolled her eyes.

  "I thought the rugrats would sleep with Giovanni?" Marietta sat on the edge of the bed.

  "Gino and Eve are with him, Gianni woke up and wasn't having it. I knew Giovanni was low on patience, so I brought him in with me. He's okay." She kissed him on his chubby cheek.

  "King B okay with sleeping with his kids?" Marietta asked. Mirabella handed her the memory book. She then readjusted Gianni, who was sleeping close to her, to lie on his tummy closer to the wall.

  "He's a sweetheart. So sweet," she said.

  "Sweet? That doesn't sound like him." Marietta said as she scanned the book of memories that Mirabella kept when she was a senior in high school.

  "You don't know him. Let's leave it at that."

  "Check this out. When you graduated in 1981, your class song was Endless Love." Marietta giggled. "Your favorite movie was Raiders of the Lost Ark, your favorite television show was Dallas, and you wanted most to be like Chaka Khan."

  Mirabella laughed. "I didn't want to be her; I wanted to design clothes for her."

  "You look like her on this picture. Look at all this messy hair." Marietta turned the book around to show her.

  Mirabella lay on her side remembering those days. "So, who was your favorite in 1981? When you were supposed to graduate."

  "We were supposed to graduate in ‘82. You just skipped ahead. But my favorite was Teddy Pendergrass. I don't remember much about movies then, but I know I hated that damn television show, Dallas."