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La Sposa

Page 19

by Sienna Mynx


  Now Mira wasn’t sure what to make of what was before her. It wasn’t that he’d chosen to bring a date. It was the woman he had selected. It was a black woman, who with a bit fairer skin and darker hair, looked strikingly similar in height and features to her. Mira frowned at them. The woman noticed her staring and frowned back. It didn’t take long for Mira to sense she was American by the way she dressed.

  “Ma-ma?” Eve said, hitting her hand. Mira blinked out of the stare-off between her and the woman and noticed her daughter wanted to taste the twists of fried dough powdered with sugar. The ladies referred to it as wanda. Mira indulged her daughter, pinching off a sample and feeding it to her. Another man, tall and handsome with a dark serpent-like stare, and a smile with nothing behind it, stepped forward. He complimented her on her beauty. His heavy Italian brogue sharpened the words he forced in English. A shiver of dislike went through her. It wasn’t obvious to Giovanni, but there was something predatory in the way his gaze swept her face and briefly lingered on her breasts. He said his name was Santo Kimmatore. Mira tried hard not to show any reaction, and again feared for her husband. How in the hell could he keep company with these dangerous men and remain the one they bowed to? How many of them stood in line with deceptive smiles and daggers behind their backs? And how dangerous was Giovanni to garner and maintain respect amongst these men? The man she loved was kind, caring, and loving. The one showing respect to them now, had the likeness of a killer.

  Who did her husband become for the Camorra?

  She glanced at Giovanni. He smirked up at the man speaking in Italian, a quick retort that made several in line laugh. Mira accepted the envelope of money, wishing this man and the three behind him would move on. She returned her attention to the woman accompanying Lorenzo and was met by another unwavering stare. Mira chose to look away.

  “Donna?” Cecilia whispered in her ear. “Zia wants to feed Evie. She plans to change her too. She insists I collect her. May I?”

  Mira nodded and passed Eve over to Cecilia, who set her on her feet and took her hand. Together, they walked away from the table. After another six people paid respect and gave her envelopes of cash, Lorenzo stepped up with his date, holding her hand. Immediately, Mira could see the smile fade from Giovanni’s face. He frowned at the stranger and then looked to Mira.

  “Mira, Gio, I want to introduce you to Marietta.” Lorenzo said.

  “Salve,” Marietta said in a soft, yet dry tone.

  “Hello. Nice to meet you,” Mira answered. Giovanni looked her up and down and didn’t speak. Mira cleared her throat and turned her attention to Lorenzo. “Happy belated birthday, Lorenzo. I didn’t know yesterday was your birthday. We missed you.”

  He smiled at Mira. When she looked to his date, it was apparent his birthday was news to her. Her eyes stretched with surprise. All the while, Mira could sense her husband’s disapproval of her presence by his steely silence. Mira had to ask the question burning on her tongue. Up close, Lorenzo’s scratches and bruises looked painful and fresh. “What happened to your face?”

  Lorenzo touched his jaw and smiled. “Lover’s spat.”

  Mira was taken aback. Did he mean she had done this to him? She looked Marietta over again with alarm. The woman didn’t take well to the joke, or whatever the hell the meaning was behind Lorenzo’s response. Without a word of denial, Marietta turned and walked away.

  It was abrupt.

  And for an instant, no one could believe her brazen attitude.

  “Women, they can be difficult.” Lorenzo shrugged. He leaned in and kissed Mira on both cheeks. He too passed her an envelope of money, which she accepted. “I’m very happy for you both.” He turned and went after her. Mira watched Lorenzo and the woman disappear out of the tent.

  “That was strange.” Mira said. “Do you know her?”

  “It’s Lorenzo’s idea of a joke. Bringing her here. Disrespecting me.”

  “I don’t think he was trying to disrespect you, honey,” Mira said, rubbing his thigh.

  “Of course he was! He brings that woman to my wedding, looking the way she does.”

  “How does she look?”

  “Like you,” Giovanni frowned.

  “No she doesn’t. Why, because we’re both black?”

  Giovanni grumbled something under his breath. Mira forgave him. She leaned over and kissed his jaw. “I’m not the only black woman in Italy. Besides, if she’s his friend then he has a right to her company. Which by the looks of him, isn’t pleasant at all.”

  “Lorenzo è un malducato,” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes now angry slits.

  “Senti! Enough talk about Lorenzo. Don’t go sour on me. Okay? It’s my wedding day and you promised to be on your best behavior.”

  Giovanni looked over to her and the hard glare dimmed. A half smile curled the corner of his mouth. “Dance with me.”

  “Yes.”

  He rose and helped her from her seat. Mira accepted his hand. When they walked out to the dance floor, the band switched the tempo. A lovely melody played. Giovanni spun her out then brought her back into his arms. It was the only place in the world she desired to be. Her arms were stretched up to reach his neck and her hands clasped behind. He held her by the waist with his gaze locked on hers. She swore the man’s eyes could go from blue ice when angry, to a smoldering violet blue when he was hers. Whoever said the eyes were the window to a man’s soul obviously had spent time in the arms of a man like her Giovanni.

  “Where is my honeymoon?” She asked.

  “Close,” he leaned in and brushed his lips across her brow.

  “No hint?” She said, under a soft sigh.

  “Closer than close,” he answered, kissing down the side of her face and under her neck. Mira opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder. The same dangerous men, who had showed so much respect earlier, leered at her. She closed her eyes and blocked all others out.

  “You okay?” Giovanni asked. He drew back, frowning. “You’re trembling?”

  Mira forced a smile. “Everyone’s staring,” she whispered.

  Giovanni looked around, as if just noticing where they were. His gaze returned to her, accompanied by an amused smile. “They should look. I want them all to see the woman who has changed me.”

  “Hmm, okay.” She rested her face to his chest and swayed with him. “It doesn’t matter where the honeymoon is, Giovanni.”

  “No?” He asked.

  “As long as I have you and Eve, I don’t care where we go.”

  “Evviva gli sposi!” shouted several people from their tables with their glasses raised. Mira giggled.

  “Yes! Long life to the bride and groom.”

  “Don’t follow me.”

  Lorenzo caught her by the arm. Marietta tried to yank free but his hold was too strong. Forced to stop near the church, she glanced around at the others staring. There was only so much of this she would tolerate.

  “Stop running from me,” he said in a calm voice. The sun behind his head made it hard to focus on his face. So she squinted instead.

  “I get the joke, okay. It’s not funny.”

  “What joke?” Lorenzo frowned. His gaze softened but only by a fraction. She caught a hint of sincerity in his voice.

  “That, back there. Introducing me to your cousin and his black Barbie. What am I your new toy?”

  Lorenzo let go of her arm. “Mira? She’s a sweet girl, you’ll like her.”

  “I saw the way your cousin frowned at me, and how she stared at me. You did that on purpose.”

  “You said you recognized her from the news reports. You know I’m a Battaglia. This is my family, you knew what to expect.”

  “To be honest, I didn’t give you or these people much thought beyond forty-eight hours ago. And I don’t appreciate being used as some pawn to get a rise out of your cousin. This was a mistake. We can’t help each other.” She turned and he caught her by the waist, drawing her back.

  “We had a deal, beautiful. Now, y
ou can either wait in the car with my men until the celebration ends, or you can be a bit patient and indulge me in this. It’s been quite some time since I’ve brought a woman home to meet the family,” he chuckled.

  Marietta shrugged her way out of his embrace. He was pissing her off by the minute. “I’m leaving!”

  Lorenzo put his hands up. “Okay. I confess. I did notice that you favor her. And I knew it would piss my cousin off when I introduced you. But what happened in Milano wasn’t planned by me, Cara. If I recall, it was you that set this all in motion.”

  Marietta put her hand to her forehead and the other to her hip. Maybe she misinterpreted the reaction of the newlyweds. She certainly had colored her agreement with Lorenzo with her own desires. Who exactly was playing who here? Besides, she never really gave a damn what people thought of her. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday was your birthday?”

  Lorenzo dropped his hands in his pants pockets. “I don’t celebrate my birthday. Ever. But I did last night, with you.”

  The confession weakened her. She lowered her hand from her brow. She started to challenge his answer, but just as strongly, she felt a sense of vulnerability about him that wasn’t present when she held a gun on him. “How much longer do we have to stay? We should, uh, go and talk about this. In private.”

  Lorenzo lifted her chin. “Mi piaci moto.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I really like you. Sei irresitibile.”

  “You are a strange man,” Marietta said in a soft tight voice.

  His mouth parted to answer, and a woman screamed.

  Startled, Marietta’s head turned. Lorenzo bolted. Quickly, she ran after him around the side of the church. On the ground was one woman with her leg bent beneath her; and standing at the top of the stone steps that led up to the church, stood another with long dark hair and a strange expression on her face. Lorenzo knelt next to the wounded woman. Marietta, however, couldn’t look away from the other. Eventually, that woman took notice of her as well. She started down the steps, never breaking eye contact.

  “She fell.” The young woman said with not a trace of concern in her voice. “We went in the church to look for my bag and when we were leaving, she fell.”

  “Go get Nico, Rosetta!” Lorenzo ordered the woman. “Now!”

  The girl paused a minute, challenging Marietta with her stare. She then turned and hurried off in the other direction. Lorenzo touched the wounded woman’s ankle with concern and the poor thing cried out in agony.

  “Can you stand, Cecilia?”

  “No. No.”

  “Did you really fall?” Marietta asked.

  “Of course she fell. You heard Rosetta.” Lorenzo scooped her up in his arms and the woman wept. She looked to Marietta and then away. Soon several men were running toward them. The tallest and meanest looking one stepped up to receive the girl in his arms.

  “Nico, take her to the ospedale. Renaldo, go with him.” Lorenzo ordered.

  The man nodded and carried her away. Lorenzo dusted his hands.

  “Who is she?” Marietta asked.

  “She’s the girl we hired to look after little Eve.”

  Marietta glanced up to the steps. “And who was the woman who pushed her?”

  “Pushed her? Rosetta is a cousin. She didn’t push her. It was an accident.”

  “Right, an accident.” Marietta said, shaking her head. “That poor girl is lucky she didn’t break her neck.”

  Mira laughed. Forced into a slow dance with Rocco, all she could do was move side to side as he held tightly to her, with his face pressed against her breast. Giovanni hit him in the back of the head once or twice and Rocco would straighten his posture, but soon slip back into holding her tighter. Mira managed to keep his hands above her waist. When the music ended, Rocco wouldn’t release her until Giovanni insisted. He pushed the old man back and shot him a warning look. Mira blushed at the scene. “He thinks I belong to him too.”

  “He better show respect!” Giovanni tossed his hand at Rocco who shuffled off the dance floor.

  “Gio! Donna!” Rosetta walked over fast. “It’s Cecilia. She’s hurt.”

  Mira immediately looked for Eve. She was dancing with Dominic, holding both his hands as she jumped up and down on her little feet.

  “What is this about Cecilia?” Giovanni asked.

  “She fell. A really bad fall.”

  Giovanni left the dance floor immediately, several men followed him. Word of the accident swept the dancers and several stopped to question where the trouble was. Catalina marched straight for them.

  “How did she fall?” Mira asked.

  “We were leaving the chapel and…”

  “Leaving the chapel? Why did you go back to the church?” Catalina interjected.

  Rosetta put her hand to her heart. She began to cry. Mira pulled her close and hugged her. “It’s okay. Giovanni and everyone will make sure she’s okay.”

  “Why were you in the church?” Catalina asked. Mira let go of Rosetta so she could respond.

  “I thought I left my purse. She went with me. We were leaving and it’s getting dark outside. We were talking. She missed a step. I tried to reach for her and she went down. It was awful.”

  “Oh my Lord, I hope she’s okay.” Mira looked again for her husband.

  Catalina, however, stared at Rosetta. “That makes no sense.”

  “It’s the truth!” Rosetta shouted.

  “Of course it is,” Mira said. “Don’t worry. Giovanni and the men will take care of her.”

  “But what about Eve?” Rosetta asked.

  “What about her?” Catalina answered.

  “Who will take care of Eve while you’re on vacation? If Cecilia’s hurt, she won’t be able to join you on your honeymoon. I feel so awful. It’s my fault for going back to the church.”

  “Let’s not worry about that. Excuse me girls, let me find out what’s going on.”

  “Wait!” Rosetta grabbed Mira’s hand. “I can do it for you, if you need me to. I can come with you and help with Eve. I can be your assistant in anything you need. In fact I want to, desperately.”

  The offer, though generous, made Mira uncomfortable. Catalina glared at Rosetta but didn’t intercede. So Mira nodded. “That’s fine. We’ll talk about it.” She started through the dance floor when a man stepped in front of her. He bowed his head.

  “We are all so happy for Giovanni. You have the been talk of the Campania.”

  “Grazie.” Mira said. “Mi scusi…”

  “I’m Santo.” He took her hand without permission and kissed it. His penetrating gaze remained trained on her as he did so. “I’ve known Giovanni for a very long time.”

  Thanks to Zia and Catalina, Mira had learned the ranks of men in Giovanni’s organization. In order to be a gracious hostess for her husband, the importance of these men and their contributions to the family had to be learned. Santo was the one Catalina said spent years in prison. He had only been out in the past year, and Giovanni considered him a valued earner and trusted friend. However, Catalina said he was fresh and dangerous. What he did for Giovanni wasn’t clear to any of them. Mira felt insulted by the lust she saw in his dark irises. She pulled her hand free.

  Santo straightened from his lean and stared down at her, crowding her with his unmovable presence. Mira was careful not to show any weakness. She smiled up at him graciously and nodded. “Thank you for coming,” Mira said, walking around him. She started through the dance floor and felt a wave of relief when she saw Giovanni walking towards her with his men following. Cecilia was a really sweet kid and she hoped she was okay. The church steps were pretty steep.

  Giovanni captured her face and kissed her forehead. “She’s okay. Nico is with her. They’ll send word but she may have broken her ankle.” The band began to play music again. Giovanni wrapped his arms around Mira and smiled. “Sorry for the confusion.”

  “I want to make sure she’s alright. Should we go to the ospedale?”

  “Trust me.
She is.”

  Mira forced a smile. “Can we go to our honeymoon then?”

  “Now?”

  “I…” Mira shook off her anxiety. She glanced back at Santo, who with other men at his table, watched her like a lion crouching in the grass. Stalking, hunting, poised to pounce, if she wasn’t careful. “I’m ready for a more private celebration sweetheart.”

  Giovanni glanced in the direction she looked. Immediately, she grabbed his face to return his gaze to her. The last thing she needed was him suspecting any of these men flirted with her. “I’m being a bit selfish. Can’t wait to get you alone, that’s all.”

  He chuckled and squeezed her to him. “Let’s eat and cut that six- foot- tall cake over there, and then we can leave,” he whispered against her ear.

  “Mmm, good plan.”

  “Not so fast.” Catalina grabbed Rosetta’s arm. “I want to hear more about this fall.”

  “Let me go. Ow! I told you what happened.”

  “When I see Cecilia, she will tell me the same story?”

  Rosetta glared. Catalina knew it was pretty crazy for her to accuse Rosetta of something so horrible, but still it irked her how Rosetta seemed so eager to get closer to Mira. Especially since she was leaving for America, and couldn’t keep an eye on her. Dominic walked over and took her hand. “I’m ready for you, beautiful.”

  “Now?”

  “Let’s say goodbye.”

  Catalina turned to address her cousin, but she had gone.

  “Something wrong?” asked Dominic.

  “Is Cecilia okay?”

  Dominic kissed Catalina’s hand. “She’ll be fine. Come.” He pulled her through the crowds and led her to the table where Giovanni and Mira now sat, feeding each other off their plates of food.

  “It’s time for us to leave. We have to catch our flight.”

  Mira rose. Giovanni glanced up at them and wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. Catalina never looked away from her brother as she hugged Mira, and kissed her cheeks.

 

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