La Sposa

by Sienna Mynx

  “Mmm, I’m really tired baby. Do you mind taking Eve and starting without me? I need another hour or two.”

  “Something wrong?” Giovanni asked, his voice tight with concern.

  Mira reached and touched his hand. She took it in hers. “No. Nothing is wrong with me or our baby. I just want to lay here and relax. I feel like we’ve been going at full-speed for days now. Last night was beautiful, but you really wore a girl out.”

  The alarm in his eyes softened to desire. He moistened his lips and leaned in to speak into her ear. “Tonight, we go even further.”

  “Oh lord!” Mira laughed. “There is no further.”

  He bit her earlobe “Oh yes, there is.”

  Mira hit him playfully.

  “You need your rest. I want you to relax.” He reached for Eve who shouted something in her own baby language that sounded like a protest. He brought her fully into his arms. “Respect Papa,” he pleaded.

  Mira watched him walk out, holding their wailing daughter. She rolled over under the covers, yanking them up above her head. Her lids sagged and her body slowly unwound pangs of tension, distressing her limbs. She felt like she’d run a marathon. Her legs, thighs, and lower back ached mercilessly. She also had soreness on her collarbone and breasts from his love bites. Why the man insisted on marking her during sex confused her. It would be hard to cover up the hickeys with the dress she selected to wear for him today. Mira smiled. Who cared? It was their world, their paradise. She gave into exhaustion, thinking of their growing family. If she had known love would be so gratifying, she’d have trusted it years ago.

  New York –

  “So where do we go first? Do we visit her office? How far is lower Manhattan from here? What time is it? Four? Five? Is that too late in the afternoon to meet with them?”

  Dominic hung up the phone. “You have your first meeting tomorrow. Aren’t you tired from the flight?”

  “No! Not particularly. We’re in New York City, Domi! Oh, gosh, there is so much I want to do!”

  “Shower, Catalina, relax, order some food. I won’t be long.”

  “Huh? Where are you going?” She walked up behind him. He stopped and smiled at her.

  “A meeting. Trust me. I won’t be long. Order whatever you like. Tomorrow is your big day. I hear the hotel has a spa too. I know you love them.” He kissed her and then walked out the door.

  Standing there in the middle of a suite fit for an emperor, she frowned. The flight had been exhausting, but she was too charged with excitement to just sit in her room and do nothing. Catalina walked over to the window and stared down at the traffic- congested streets. Many people packed tightly on the sidewalks, and yellow cabs blew horns as they raced through the light. She hugged herself, smiling. For a while, this would be home. And soon it dawned on her what she faced tomorrow. There was plenty to do. She needed to finish reading the documents and instructions Mira gave her.

  Catalina found her bag and removed the folder. The papers were a crash course on fashion; and the ins and outs of Mirabella’s. She sat at the reading desk before the window, trying not to be distracted by the tall buildings and bustling sounds of afternoon life beyond the glass. She needed to focus.

  The phone rang.

  Surprised, she whirled around in her chair. Had Dominic forgotten something? Was he calling from downstairs to ask her to come and join him? She rose and walked over to the bed. Plopping down on the edge, she picked up on the third ring. “Pronto… uh, hello?”

  “Catalina? Catalina Battaglia?”

  “Yes. This is me.”

  “Well, good to speak with you. I’m Theodore Tate. Mira’s attorney and friend.”

  “Oh? Yes! She told me about you. Nice to speak with you too. How did you know we’ve arrived?”

  Theodore gave a deep throaty laugh. “I made it a point to know when you and Dominic arrived. Are you settled in? Plans for dinner?”

  “No. I mean, yes we’re settled in.” Catalina tried to calm the nervous flutters in her stomach. “Dominic isn’t here. He has business. It’s just me.”

  “Oh? Would you like to join me for a drink? I can take you to dinner and introduce you to the city. Catch you up on the business matters Mira and I have discussed.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t go anywhere without Dominic. Grazie.”

  There was a pause. Catalina realized how juvenile her response sounded. A professional woman wouldn’t dismiss a polite offer this way, would she? Chewing on her nail, she looked around. There was no way to contact Dominic, and to leave without permission simply wasn’t allowed.

  “No problem.” He eventually answered. “I understand. We’ll see you tomorrow at eight?”

  “Yes! Yes. I can’t wait to meet you, uh, everyone. Thank you for calling, Theodore.”

  “Call me Teddy. Enjoy your evening.”

  “Ciao, Teddy.” Catalina said and hung up. She sat there staring at the phone, with a bubbling excitement overtaking her. It would have been nice to meet him and see the city. Have a fancy drink and discuss fashion and all the new things she’d do and see. Catalina wished Dominic was there. She was near exploding with excitement. Next time, she’d ask Dominic for permission to do these things before he left her. She rose smiling and returned to her studying.

  Dominic strolled off the elevator. He wasn’t fond of America, the noise, the rushing to and fro, the sour looking faces bumping him as they passed. It made him anxious and a bit distrustful of the simplest gesture. He checked his watch. As soon as he passed out of the rotating doors, he saw a black Lincoln parked and waiting. The driver made eye contact. He opened the back door and Dominic eased inside. Waiting for him in the backseat was Stefano Zimmatore, looking like a Neanderthal stuffed in a suit and tie. He had a large face, with wide nostrils, fat jaws, and a thick neck with a protruding gut and reclining hairline. Another burly younger version of Stefano sat in the passenger seat. He had to be the son, Gino. Once the driver got back behind the wheel, they sped away.

  “Buena sera!” Stefano said. He leaned in as far as his fat belly would permit and kissed Dominic on both cheeks. “How is Giovanni?”

  “He sends his thanks and hello. He and his new bride are vacationing.”

  Stefano gave a nod of respect. “Seen her in the press. Interesting, that they would marry.”

  “She’s a gem.” Dominic answered flatly. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect to Giovanni’s choice in a wife. He knew what the men in his world thought of; a man of Giovanni’s position taking an American black woman for a bride. Hell, Dominic feared, Tomosino had sat up in his crypt when the vows were spoken.

  “Of course. Shall we get to business? Gino, hand it over!” Stefano ordered. His son passed back a folder to Dominic from the front seat. He accepted it. “It would help if we had more details on the mother,” Stefano said.

  “We gave you the name, where she was born, when she died. What more did you need?” Dominic answered. He opened the folder that referenced Mira’s family history. The first thing that greeted him was the death certificate for Melissa Ellison. She died young.

  “You do realize she was a runaway at sixteen. She never had a job. Never filed a W2 or paid taxes. Here in America, that is pretty uncommon. The only thing we could get was the hospital stay in Philadelphia.”

  “Hospital?” Dominic frowned, moving on from the death certificate to the other documents. “For?”

  “She gave birth to twins.” Stefano said.

  Dominic paused. He looked up from the folder to the old man.

  “It’s in there. She gave birth to twin girls.”

  “I don’t see the birth certificates? Where are they?” he said through a rushed breath.

  “They were pulled. Can’t find them. The babies weren’t named at the hospital, and no father listed. Only thing we could find was the birth record under Melissa Ellison’s name. My contact says it could have been a private adoption of some sort.”

  “Twins.” Dominic frowned. “Twin gir
ls?”

  He flipped the other pages and brought up the arrest record of James Walker. The first and most recent detail, was his detention at Riker’s Island. Dominic read through the documents, trying to understand the complicated life of James Walker. Years ago, he was convicted for armed robbery of a night club. The place was burned to the ground and the owner died. The arrest was four years before Mira and her twin sister were born. He compared the dates. “He’s not the father.”

  Stefano nodded. “He’s got another murder rap. In fact, he’s killed six men since he’s been in prison. A really mean motherfucker. They have him locked down in Riker’s awaiting trial for a murder of a correctional officer.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “Fuck no. He’s a nigger. Killing and stealing is what they do. Why do you even bother?” Gino answered.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Stefano shouted back at Gino. The son mumbled but didn’t turn around.

  “Forgive my son. He forgets his place. We haven’t talked to him. But we suspected you might want to have that conversation. I’m working on a visit. It might take a while.”

  “How long?”

  “A few weeks. It’ll require the assistance of some very important associates. Could be costly.”

  Dominic understood. What he thought was a simple mystery had now turned into a full blown Greek tragedy. Twins separated at birth? A convicted felon pinned as the father. And a young woman dying at the young age of twenty-two from a drug overdose? Giovanni needed to know this. “I need it to happen sooner. Spare no expense.”

  Gino threw his hand up but didn’t utter a word of objection.

  Dominic rode in the backseat, digesting the news. He returned his attention to Stefano. “There is something else. His name is Kei Hyogo.”

  “We know him. Everyone knows he sent an assassin to the Campania after Giovanni.”

  “Then you know we have unfinished business with him. I hear he’s being extradited back to China.”

  Stefano smiled. “You haven’t heard. Santo requested we have the boys in Riker’s check in on him. We’ve sent Gio a special wedding gift.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Sort of.” Stefano shrugged.

  “Giovanni requested that I pay him a visit while I’m here.”

  Stefano frowned. “Son, that isn’t within my power. He’s under protective custody after the prison riot. Nothing more I can do.”

  “Giovanni wishes it.” Dominic said firmly. “When you arrange the meeting with James Walker, I want to see Kei Hyogo. I have a message for him before he’s sent back to China. It has to be delivered personally.”

  Stefano shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  *****

  “Boss? You called?” Leo asked.

  “Where the hell is Rosetta?” Giovanni shouted as he tried to force a slice of fruit on Eve. His daughter swatted it out of her face and screamed her frustration through tears. She fought him at every turn to be free. In fact, nothing he had done calmed her since she discovered her mother was awake. Even the beautiful scenic view from the third story terrace pissed her off. Mira needed her rest, but dammit they both needed Mira. Babysitting was bullshit and woman’s work.

  “Rosetta left a minute ago. She’s headed to the beach,” Leo said.

  Giovanni frowned. “What the hell for? Get her ass back here now! I brought her here to work dammit!” He seethed. “Do it!” he shouted at Leo when he didn’t move faster.

  Leo nodded and hurried out. Giovanni turned Eve around to face him. “Lucciola? Lucciola! Listen to Papa. Stop the crying.”

  Eve yelled louder. She arched her back with her arms stretched trying to break free of him. He struggled to embrace her, shake her, pat her back as he’d seen Mira do. Nothing worked.

  “Ninny! Ninny!” she wailed.

  It dawned on him the source of her rage, the fucking pacifier. He’d forgotten it. Rising, he stormed back into the villa, down the stairs and to the room. Mira stirred in her sleep but didn’t fully wake. Thankfully, the stupid thing was on the bed where they left it. The moment he passed it to his daughter she popped it in her mouth and silenced. But they were both exhausted and a bit weary of each other. Giovanni released a deep breath. How the fuck did he forget the pacifier? He shook his head. Her mother would have to do something about the damn thing.

  *****

  “Are we flying back to Milan?” Marietta asked, easing her sunglasses on.

  Lorenzo slammed the door to his side of the car shut. He turned the engine over and threw the car in gear before he answered. “No. We will drive. We need to make a stop.” It was four in the morning, and they’d barely slept.”

  We? It felt strange when he referred to them as one. She glanced over to him. He was even more handsome in the moonlight. The open collar of his navy blue shirt showed the dust of hair that lay so finely over his muscular chest. And he smelled powerfully sexy, male too. The scratches on his face from their fight hadn’t healed; they added a hint of danger to him that was to be believed. She put a few on his back when he wore her out last night. Marietta smiled to herself. She pushed her thighs together tightly to extinguish her budding arousal. He maneuvered the sports car like a racecar driver, zipping out along the coast at daredevil speeds.

  The first hour of the drive, Marietta relaxed in the passenger seat. The silence between them wasn’t forced, it was comforting. Just like the sex they had. She gave him her body last night and in his demanding aggressive manner, he wore her out. She also gave him something else. Something that could cost her, if later it proved to be a mistake, as it had been with every other man in and out of her life. She turned over her trust.

  “What did you do with the pictures, the tape?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  “Why? Are you serious? I… I know what you discussed on the tape. Was that man the Don? Was he Giovanni’s father?”

  “Don’t question me about any of it. Ever.”

  Marietta looked away. “I’m only asking because I know how this works.”

  “How does it work?”

  “I’m guilty by association, right? Right? If you still have the tapes and photos it could mean trouble for us both.”

  “I have it under control. What we need to find out is who has the originals.”

  “So you think they’re copies?”

  “Don’t you?” Lorenzo shifted and the car swerved around a blind curve that made her heart pound in her chest. She tried not to notice. But the darkness made his daredevil maneuvers terrifying.

  “I guess. It makes no sense to me, Lorenzo. Before two days ago, we didn’t know each other. Now this woman wants us together. Or you to kill me. Whatever. It makes no sense. Why us?”

  He drove in silence and they both searched for a meaning. Something they’d missed. “Did you know Giuseppe Calderone? Ever met him?”

  “Never. No. First heard his name when I eavesdropped on you and Negali.”

  Lorenzo furthered his lean as he drove the car with one hand. “Tell me about you. America. What did you do there?”

  She dreaded the question. Before she left, there was nothing in America for her. No family, friends, or boyfriend. Just a never-ending feeling of abandonment. Marietta looked away to make sure he didn’t see her discomfort. “The past few years have been hard. I’ve stopped speaking to my adoptive parents. Been on my own. Tried to open a store, and, well, I like making things.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Furniture, restoring it, making home decorations like lamp shades and drapes. I’m pretty good. But my overhead became too much.”

  She could feel his stare. Sensed his pity. She hated to be pitied. She was no victim. She just fell on hard times. It happens. Her heart broke when she had to close her store. Even now she resented her so-called parents for their lack of support or encouragement. That’s one of the reasons why the truth of Capriccio was so tempting. She worked her ass off, literally, the past year to save up enough money
to come to Italy and get the truth. The money he offered her could really pay the bills, and keep her out of the clubs. And if she found her mother, she could heal something in her. She was sure.

  “Then what?”

  “Why?” Marietta shifted under her seat belt, trying to get comfortable. “What does my personal life have to do with any of this?”

  “Isabella, or whoever the fuck she is has something that could either destroy or control me. She gives it to you? What the fuck for? An orphaned furniture maker from America is given my life in an envelope?”

  “I told you, I don’t know why she did it.”

  “And that worries me! My enemies don’t have time for games. How did she know the tapes existed? How did she know where to find them and the photos?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Either she has done this to draw me in deeper or because she wanted you dead. I want to know why anyone in my world would want you dead. It’s how I will find the bitch. Now. Who were you in America?”

  “When my store closed a friend of mine turned me on to something, to make quick easy money. I did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “I was a stripper.”

  She saw his nose wrinkle, as if he didn’t understand her meaning. Marietta spoke through her teeth. “I took my clothes off and danced for men for money. Get it?”

  He nodded. No other reaction other than a simple nod. It further wounded her pride. “I guess an exotic dancer is nothing special to a mafia thug like you, huh?”

  Lorenzo chuckled and kept driving.

  “I only did it when I needed to pay the bills, and I never did anything but dance.”

  “Will you do it for me?” Lorenzo cast his gaze over to her.