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

by Sienna Mynx

  "Who the fuck was that?" Umberto asked. He panted and held his side. Carlo looked over and saw Umberto was bleeding, and Leonardo was dead.

  "You hit?"

  "I'm fine," he winced.

  They had been followed and watched. But no one knew the location of his torture chamber--except for Lorenzo and Giovanni. He was sure he wasn't tailed from Florence.

  "Could it be Armando?" Leo asked.

  "No. There's something else going on. I need to call Lorenzo."

  “He said Giovanni had Isabella. That can’t be right.” Umberto said.

  “Not Giovanni. He said Benicia had taken Isabella for Giovanni. Someone is making a move in the bosses name. We need to warn him.”

  Umberto nodded that he agreed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Exposed

  Apple Grove, Virginia

  Mirabella opened her eyes. She turned over and was face to face with her husband.

  "Buon giorno," he said.

  "Morning," she smiled and covered her breath.

  He pulled her hand down gently. "I've been waiting for you to wake up."

  "Oh? Yeah, wait, where are the kids--"

  "Vieni qui--come here." He pulled her back down on the bed and kissed her. She had no choice but to kiss him back. "That's better."

  Mirabella wiped her mouth. She laughed. “Morning kisses, yuck,” she said and tried to move from under him. He blocked her when he rolled his body on top of hers. She turned her face away, and he brought her chin back around.

  "Stop trying to get away from me," he said.

  "What did you do with my children?" she chuckled as he forced her thighs apart.

  "You should be asking what I will do to you. Hey, look at me."

  Mirabella relaxed. He slipped inside of her like a pro. He had kissed her face and lips before he dropped his head to the small space between her neck and shoulder. There he could inhale the sweet lotion she used to cover her skin. And her hands went up to hips--questing. Still, his early morning passion for her could not be denied. She worked her hips, and he slipped deeper into her. Her silky walls constricted and seized his thrusting dick nicely.

  She moaned lyrically against his ear. He shuddered into a premature release. He wanted her so bad, he woke early and delivered his children to Marietta. She was already downstairs cooking. It was the start of a great day.

  "Mmm, that was nice,” she kissed his cheek. He pushed up off her an inch and his dick slipped out of her. “You got home late?”

  He nodded.

  “Were you a good boy?” she asked.

  He nodded and smiled. She lifted her head and kissed his lip. “I love you.”

  “Sei tutto cio' di cui ho bisogno--you're everything I need, Gio," she said. He kissed her forehead and forced her to go back toward the bed. She let go of him. She sat and then laid back on the bed.

  The phone rang. Giovanni reached and picked it up before Marietta did so downstairs. Mirabella escaped the bed. She went into the bathroom and cleaned herself. When she returned, he was hanging up.

  "Who was it?" she asked.

  "Come back over here. We aren't done," he patted her side of the bed. “I haven’t had breakfast.”

  "We’re done,” she laughed. “We can’t keep putting the kids on Marietta. She’s pregnant. I’ll fix you some eggs.”

  "Come back over here, Bella. I have some bad news," he said with a coy smile.

  "And that makes you smile?" she put on her robe. He stroked his cock while looking at her body. She ignored that look in his eyes.

  "We have to leave. Head back to America. As soon as possible." He sat up. "Sorry, Bella. I know you wanted to spend time with your family. But we'll take the next flight out to Italy."

  "Wait... slow down." She put up both her hands.

  "Pack your things," he said and sat up in bed.

  "Giovanni? We've only been here four days. We haven't--"

  He went to the bathroom and closed the door. She stood there stunned. Confused. He returned and found a pair of pants to pull up. "I'll tell Lo and Marietta."

  Stunned she flopped back down on the bed. She bit her nails. She looked around her room in search of an explanation. The nightmares of her kidnapping had stopped. Just as the doctor predicted, they would. It was the ghost of the past she needed to face. And her mind hadn't completely accepted the fact that her husband killed her first love. And then there was something else. Something much more profound. A woman's intuition. Whatever waited for them in Italy wasn't good. A sense of foreboding came over her. She couldn't shake it. Mirabella closed her eyes and waited for it to pass.

  It didn't.

  ***

  To be locked behind a door with no hope of explaining any of the accusations Rosetta told him about her was torture. The waiting was the worst of it. Catalina paced. She could see her reflection in the tall windows of her suite. Her makeup had turned her tears black. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut. And it was her heart that fared the worst. She'd never been more scared and sick with worry than she was at that moment.

  Forget her betrayal to the vows she made to him.

  Forget her mistakes she repeated since Armando told her how Lorenzo caused Patri's death.

  Forget her excuses, and she would forget many if he were just willing to listen.

  Forget it all, because Catalina knew if Dominic found Armando he'd kill him. And if Dominic killed a Mafia boss as powerful as Armando, no one, not even Gio, could save him. It was the worst infraction he could make in the mob. And she would be the reason. That burden weighed so heavily on her heart; she dropped over in despair. She clasped her hands together and began to pray. She poured out her soul before God and told him she'd give everything up if he kept Dominic safe.

  It was as if God had a direct pipeline to her pleas for mercy; her prayers were semi-answered. The door opened. She heard a person enter.

  "Domi!" she found the strength to stand.

  It was Paolo and Raffaele. They both had solemn looks on their faces.

  "Where is Domi?" Catalina asked through her tears.

  "He has said you and Rosetta are to be taken home immediately." Paolo went to her bedroom. To her horror, he began to snatch up her things off the hangers and stuff the suitcases. Catalina tried to stop him, but Raffaele got in the way. "We are leaving. I'm sorry, Catalina."

  "Where the hell is he? Did he find Armando? Huh?" She hit Raffaele "Do your fucking job and find him."

  Raffaele glared. He looked like he was on the edge of his own meltdown. "I have my orders. Paolo will take Rosetta. I will take you. Home."

  "I have work to do. If Domi wants me to leave, then he'll have to face me. If not I have a show tomorrow with--"

  She was seized. Raffaele threw her over his shoulder. Catalina screamed. Paolo came out with her luggage. The men forcibly removed her from her suite.

  ***

  "Eat. Eat!" Gino said and patted his tummy.

  Lorenzo fed him another scoop. Marietta beamed with pride. He was going to be a good father. They could hear Giovanni stump and stump down the stairs. It almost sounded like he was running he was moving so fast. The kids were seated at the table enjoying breakfast when their father appeared.

  "Pack up. We're leaving!"

  "Really?" Marietta asked.

  "Yes," Giovanni said. He went to the telephone and picked it up. He opened a phonebook that he pulled off the top of the refrigerator. Marietta looked at her husband for an explanation. Lorenzo shrugged. It didn't matter when they left. She was so happy about the special gift Minnie gave her. She hadn't played the record or opened the journal yet. And she didn't know when she would. Maybe the day she had her baby or the day, she and Lorenzo finally found Isabella, and she knew they could move forward with their lives. One day soon.

  Giovanni inquired about flights. He asked how soon the next one to Naples, Italy left. He paced back and forth with the long phone cord.

  Lorenzo winked at her and fed Gino another scoop of
eggs. Marietta wiped Gianni's hands of jelly, and the toddler went right back to tearing through his toast. Eve scooted her chair back and dropped down. She went to her father.

  "Daddy, can you push me? On the swing? Again? Please?" she pointed to the door.

  Giovanni hung up the phone. “We leave tonight. There's a midnight flight out of Norfolk, then a connector in New York. From there we go straight to Naples."

  "Does Mirabella know?" Marietta asked.

  "She's ready to leave as well." Giovanni picked up Eve in his arms. "Come, lucciola. It's very early. Let's go and play on the swing."

  "Yay!" she said and giggled.

  "Are you hungry? I can fix you a plate," Marietta said.

  "No. I'll just come back for coffee," Giovanni said.

  Marietta gave Gianni his cup to drink from and then pushed up from the table.

  Lorenzo observed Giovanni. His cousin carried his daughter out the door. Part of him wanted to know the business deal that had him so excited. The other part of him, ruled by pride, refused to ask for information that should be shared freely with him. No matter how close and brotherly he and Giovanni became, there was a distance there that he didn't understand.

  The phone rang again.

  "Who is that now?" Marietta asked.

  Lorenzo had paged Carlo six times. He got up and went for the phone. Maybe, this time, it was him.

  "Hello?"

  "Lo? It's me," Carlo panted.

  "Hold on," Lorenzo said.

  He walked over to the laundry room. The phone had a long cord and allowed him to go inside and semi-close the door. "What’s the news?"

  "We had Alek Baldamenti," Carlo said.

  "Had?"

  "Yes, and...”

  “Isabella?”

  “My contact said he had Isabella," Carlo said after catching his breath.

  "There you go with 'had' again. What is it?"

  "She was gone. She was gone when we picked Alek up. Lo, something's going down. Alek was about to tell us where Benicia took her and we were ambushed. I think the shooters only wanted him dead--"

  "Wait. The Benicias?" Lorenzo asked.

  "It's who Alek said took her from him. He said Giovanni took his kid, hired the Benicia’s to take Isabella. We lost Leonardo, several others. Giovanni wouldn’t turn on us. Not us. He wouldn’t kill his own men."

  "Did you see them? Are you sure it's Benicia?"

  "Not sure. Thing is, Alek says that Isabella has proof. He says that she has proof you betrayed Giovanni. What the fuck is going on, Lo? He was arranging for her to meet with a General in the Carabinieri."

  Lorenzo wiped his hand down his face. "What did you find? When you got Alek? Anything?"

  "Suitcase, clothes, cassette tapes, magazines..."

  "Cassette tapes?" Lorenzo asked.

  "Yeah, I forgot about those..." Carlo's voice trailed off.

  “What? What is it?” Lorenzo asked.

  “Your name was on the tapes."

  "Where are the cassette tapes now?" Lorenzo asked.

  "I had Leo take them to villa Rosso while I dealt with Alek. I think he did. Why? What's on the tapes?" Carlo asked.

  "Nothing. Who knows. Just some bullshit. Maybe. Can you get the tapes? Get them for me?" Lorenzo asked.

  "No," Carlo said. "I won't do that. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on. Armando isn't the one on top of us. Is he? Something else is happening. Tell me what? And why would Giovanni send the Benicia’s after his own clan?"

  "Never mind it. We're on our way back. The family. I'll tell you everything when I get there." Lorenzo ends the call. He took the phone and slammed it repeatedly down on the washing machine until it splintered and cracked into pieces. The long cord dangled and bounced like the string of a yo-yo. He groaned with agony and put his face in his hands. Marietta ran inside.

  "Lo? What is it? What?" Marietta asked.

  He looked at her. His heart broke. It was over. Time was up. And he couldn't bear to tell his wife. Instead, he pulled her into his arms. She held Gianni on her hip. He hugged them both.

  "Time for us to go home," he said. "Time is up."

  ***

  Carlo hung up the phone. He put his face in his hands. Deep in his gut, he knew his best friend was in trouble. And even worse, Giovanni had turned on his own clan? Spilled blood? Nothing about it made sense. How the hell did they get here? The adrenaline pumped through his veins from the day, but his mind was dragging him down. He'd trusted Lorenzo. Ever since they were kids. When he had the worst of it, Lorenzo was there. When he lost Carmine, Lorenzo was there. Every time he fell and lost a loved one, Lorenzo was there. He wasn't sure when his friend stopped trusting him. But at some point he had.

  Adara slammed her hand down on the table. He looked up in confusion. She sat across from him glaring like an ignored wife. Her eyes held a brilliance that no makeup could improve. She stared directly at him with her pouty lips now pressed into a thin line. She had large gold hoops that pierced her ears and gleamed underneath all of her long curly hair. He hadn't noticed her once since he arrived, until that moment.

  "Where are we? Can you tell me that? Why am I here?" she demanded.

  "This is my home. You are my guest," he replied while managing to keep his temper in check. He had sent his boys home. Lost boys, younger than he was when he wandered the streets. His house was a safe place for them. He turned them all away and brought Adara into his home. Even now he wasn’t sure why.

  "Sorrento is your home? You have your goons come to the hotel and drag me out in the middle of the night. They force me on a train to Naples, then kidnap me in a car and bring me here. To this dump? It was crawling with kids. All ages. They finally left. But good grief. Why? And where have you been? I haven't seen you in almost two days. This was not our deal. I—"

  "You're right," Carlo said. "I'm sorry."

  The anger and contempt on her face disappeared. It was as if he had spoken a magic word. Maybe he should try apologizing more often. He was wound too tight to argue with her. He'd come to enjoy having her with him for the past few days. Not that they said much, or did much. She mostly talked about a news broadcast she watched or a bug she killed that day while waiting on him. And he listened. It was the nights that he preferred. Every night she'd strip down, shower, put on Shalimar and hold him in her arms. Every night he'd sleep against her breasts and find solace. No more nightmares. No more pain and loneliness over losing Shae. He found a way to go numb. What man didn't need that?

  "That's the first time you've ever apologized to me for being a dick," she repeated.

  "I can be a dick at times," he gave her a thin smile. "This is my home. This is where I rest. I wanted to bring you here. I should have asked."

  She looked around the small villa. Admittedly it wasn't woman friendly. Clothes were on the floor, sofa, chairs, and even the television. Everywhere. And so were his gadgets. Carlo had a knack for taking apart electronics and putting them back together. His tools were on the floor. The dishes in the sink were close to two months old. Even flies didn't bother to circle them. If the villa were clean, it might be decent. But since he never brought women here, it never was.

  "The place smells bad," Adara said and pinched her nose, "I'm sure there are more bugs here than at the hotel."

  He nodded and got up from the table. He opened two windows. Adara looked at him with pity. He didn't want her pity.

  "So, this is yours?"

  "It's not that bad. I was out of town for some time. I had some kids house sitting. They obviously let things get out of control. I haven't had a chance to clean it."

  "Oh? Okay," she said. She went to the fridge and opened the door. The food inside had apparently spoiled. She slammed it with disgust. "So let me get this straight. You walk around in Gucci and Moreschi shoes, but you live like a pig?"

  "Pigs have to have a place to sleep." Carlo picked up his keys. "I'll go to the store, and get a few things. I won't be long."

  He expe
cted her to object. Instead, when he looked back, she had a garbage bag and was collecting his spoiled food and empty beer cans and trashing it. He half-smiled. It felt good having a woman around, and not the whores he kept company with. Adara was different. He knew it.

  When he left and jumped in his car, the anxiety returned. He sped through the narrow alleyway streets of Sorrento, burning with questions. Only one remained at the forefront of his mind. What was Lorenzo hiding? It was late in the evening. When he arrived at the Battaglia gates, the sun had almost slipped away from the sky. The drive was crowded with cars. It was war time for the family. The perimeter was now fortified for refuge. Most of the Battaglias had come in from Sicily, and the others were in Chianti. It could be years before Sicily was safe for them to return home.

  Carlo nodded at a few of his boys. They nodded with respect back to him. He strolled around the compound and headed along the cobblestone path to villa Rosso. He found more men, both employees, and family, gathered out on the lawns. It was some kind of a celebration because music played and plates were served. Carlo envied family life. He didn't have much of it to fall back on.

  When he walked into villa Rosso, he didn't hesitate to go into Giovanni's office. Not many of them were granted that privilege. But it was where Leo took the tapes. The ones that made Lorenzo's voice change on the phone. He found the cassette case and opened it. He looked at the tapes, and he knew. In his heart he knew. If Giovanni received these tapes, it would be the end of his friend. Now he had to think of what to do.

  ***

  Adara felt like a modern day Cinderella, minus the wicked stepmother and sisters. She cleaned and scrubbed until her hands were raw. The place reeked of bleach and disinfectant. To her surprise, he had all the necessary tools. A mop, a bucket, scrubbing pads, rubber gloves. He just never used them. She got off her knees and looked around the place. Carlo had been right. With it cleaned and organized it wasn't half bad.

  The next thing that held her interest were the electronics. She found a radio that worked without a power plug or any battery that she could see. She wasn't sure how he rigged it. And she also found some kind of gadget with several switches. When she flipped them all on it buzzed so loud it scared her. There was a television that played music, and a transistor that got a television station broadcast. It was all futuristic kind of work that spooked and intrigued her. Right then and there she decided to leave his voodoo technology alone.