by Sienna Mynx
Dominic’s eyes were closed. In their dimly lit bedroom she studied his face, feeling his erection grow in her hand. She exhaled in delight. He was so handsome, so virile, so loving to her always. How did she ever get so lucky?
“Are you tired?”
“I am.” He reached and touched her hand. His erection was solid but the fatigue in his eyes made her heart hurt. She eased up on him, pressing her achy center against his thigh.
“You can lay here, let me take control,” she brushed her lips over his, teasingly slow.
“No, Cara. Not tonight.” Dominic gave her a wary smile. She dropped her bottom lip in a sad pout. Dominic lifted her chin. “Are you excited about tomorrow?” he asked her.
She nodded. “My first day at work. I’ve been studying. Giovanni told me to make him proud. Mira trusts me to be her partner and help her. I will prove to them that I can do it.”
“You will, baby.” He kissed her brow. “We have an early morning. Lay with me.”
She nodded, easing her arm around his waist, throwing her leg over his muscular thigh and listening to his heartbeat. She felt her arousal melt down to contentment. “Domi?”
“Mmm?”
“I know you worry about Gio and the family. I know you want to return as consigliere, and you will prove yourself again to Gio some day. I know you can do it. But with me, Domi, you don’t have to be anything but you. I love you.” She looked up and he was asleep. Catalina smiled. She kissed his lips. “Ti amo.”
Villa Capri –
With the sun and ocean breeze in his eyes, he squinted. Giovanni walked the shore. Each step drove his feet deeper into the sand, or so it felt. He should have removed his shoes. The wood stairwell down to the beach went along the thirty-foot high cliff side drop at the back of his villa. It troubled him that his wife and baby girl made the descent without him. What if she had lost her footing and fell? What if Eve became too much for her? He would have to talk to Bella about her taking caution with these things. Soon her pregnancy would show, and their baby would require more of her. It was best now she understood her limitations.
This small section of the beach was privately tucked away from annoying tourists. To his right however, were two wooden fisherman rowboats. Young men pulled nets out of the sudsy foam from the breaking waves. Each froze to see Don Battaglia on the beach. They cast worried looks at each other and worked faster to conclude their business. One waved at him as a show of respect. Giovanni dismissed them. But Leo and Romero had already stepped aside to keep an eye on them, in case their accidental wash-up on his beach was something more sinister. Such was the suspicious nature of his life.
Mira had chosen to sit down. Her shoes and Eve’s sandals were set off to her right side. Eve was on her knees, playing in the sand to her left. With her camera, she used the zoom lens to get a really close personal picture of Eve. Their daughter stacked sand and then knocked clumps down with a fit of baby giggles. Mira cheered and encouraged her to try to make another masterpiece.
He approached them, and his girls looked up. Mira let the camera drop, with the strap around her neck, keeping it to her chest. She shielded her eyes with her hand and Eve sucked her pacifier curiously. “You started without me?” he asked.
“We waited for you, but your meeting seemed to last forever.” Mira said.
Giovanni lowered down next to her. Eve immediately rose, sand on her diaper bottom and legs. She walked over to her father and dropped down on his lap, covering him with the same. He kissed her. “How do you feel about doing some sailing today? It’s a nice day. We can see the islands and grottos.”
“Sounds nice. Though sailing isn’t my favorite.”
“Indulge me, we will go to dinner too. How does that sound, Eve? Want Papa to take you to dinner?”
Mira reclined on her hands. She stretched her legs out and crossed her ankles at her feet. They stared out at the sea. All he could think of while Eve dug her hands in the sand from his lap was the news Dominic shared. He stared at his wife’s profile, suddenly concerned for her. A past that she didn’t understand could be hurtful, or even dangerous, if it connected in some way to dangerous men like him.
“Eve’s going to have a little brother soon,” Giovanni said.
“Mmm,” Mira nodded.
“Do you think having a sibling is important?”
Mira turned her attention his way. One look into those doe eyes under a fringe of dark lashes and he was hopelessly lost in her beauty. “Yes. I was an only child. It can be quite hard. You wouldn’t understand, really, how lonely. You have Catalina and Lorenzo. Imagine growing up and having no one.”
“So your mother never had any other children?”
“Not that I know of. And since James is in prison, I’m pretty sure he didn’t either. Just me.”
“But do you wish you had a sister, Bella? Someone to share your life with?”
Mira removed her camera from around her neck and sat it on her shoes. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Her long dress covered her feet. “No. I don’t wish for things like that. I had Fabiana. Now I have Catalina and Zia. And you. Plenty of people to love and share my life with.”
Giovanni leaned over and kissed her lips. “And I do love you. Let’s go. I want to show you Capri.”
He rose, and heaved Eve up. Reaching back, he extended his hand and helped her stand. Mira gathered her things. She wrapped her arm around his waist and they began the walk back to the villa. Dominic would solve the mystery. And he would protect his wife from any ugliness he uncovered. He was the man for the job.
Chianti –
“Are you going to talk to me?” Lorenzo asked.
They’d been on the road for an hour and she hadn’t spoken. Marietta kept her gaze trained on the passing trees and buildings with laundry strung up and out of windows. She wept silently to herself. Tears fell, and then more came. She wiped them away, using her sunglasses to conceal her eyes from him. She knew in her heart that her mother was dead. A child knows. She could see it in Gemma’s eyes when she pressed for details on her mother’s identity. She could see it in her adoptive mother’s eyes when she begged her to forgive them for lying about her parentage, but claimed to know nothing about the people who created her. Still she had to hope against hope that maybe, she existed out there. Maybe she left America and lived some exotically beautiful life in Italy. Now, there was no hope.
Was she angry? Yes. But more importantly, she was heartsick. Her adoptive parents robbed her of the truth. Instead, they replaced it with the lie that she was the product of an affair that her adoptive father had. Gemma fed her lies. Whoever her mother was no one cared for her. And here she was with this man who gave her empty sex and even emptier promises. Her money was low, and the fight in her was all but gone. Nothing was left. It was time to return home.
She cleared her throat. “I plan to leave soon. So I’ll need to get things in order with David.”
“Leave?” Lorenzo frowned.
Marietta looked his way. “Yes. I’ll sign whatever you want. Take whatever the Capriccios want to give me and go. I’m done. I want to go home.”
“Just like that?” He snapped his fingers. “You’re going to give up?”
“Giving up!” She shouted through tears, brimming and clouding her vision of him. “Is that what you think this is? I have spent so much time being angry, fighting, searching, that I’m beyond giving up. I’m giving in. I can’t do this anymore!”
Lorenzo swerved and the car veered off the road. Marietta grabbed the dash to hold on as he brought the vehicle to an abrupt stop. He threw the gear into park and turned toward her. “What a fucking idiot I am!” He slammed his hand on the steering column. “Fuck! Why the fuck didn’t I see it sooner?”
Marietta drew closer to the door, away from him. Lorenzo snatched off his sunglasses and she saw the excitement and clarity of thought reflected in his baby blues.
“What do you get?” she asked, a bit leery.
&
nbsp; “This was planned.”
“No shit!” Marietta rolled her eyes.
Lorenzo laughed.
“This isn’t funny! My mother is dead! You heard him. I just found out she is dead.”
He dropped his arm around her seat. He leaned in and smiled in her face. “She’s dead. Yes. But who knew? Who would know the real truth of your mother, Marietta?”
She shrugged. “All of them. Everyone but me.”
“Not exactly. Think about it. You come to Italy, demanding to be part of a family who hates you on sight. Caruso has a heart attack and dies. Negali said no one in the family knew you existed but David. He wants you gone. He has to deal with me, the lawyers, taking care of his family, and you. How does he get rid of you? He uses us both. Turns us against each other.”
“How?”
“Your pathetic need to find your long lost mama. My pathetic need to bury secrets Giuseppe and I shared. He creates this bullshit story of a woman named Isabella. My own fucking mother’s name and I can’t see it’s a bullshit lie!” Lorenzo shouted his words at her, overly excited about the revelation.
“You’re saying Isabella doesn’t exist? If that’s true who sent me the note, the tapes? Who sent you to me?”
“David Capriccio! He’s been lying from day one. He knew if you tried to squeeze me I’d do… well what men like me do. And he also knew I’d back off and chase this ghost of a person, instead of being focused on him and the finalizing of the business between us. The bastardo played us both.”
Anger rose in her like a tidal wave. She was furious over her vulnerability to them all. “That son of a bitch!” she replied sharply.
Lorenzo sat back, satisfied that he’d solved the mystery.
“What about your uncle? My necklace. If Caruso isn’t my father then…”
“David believes that Caruso is your father. That’s my fucking point. Did you ever tell him about the necklace? Show him what you showed me?”
Marietta frowned. “No.”
“Exactly! David doesn’t know the truth. That’s why he won’t allow the paternity test. If Caruso isn’t your father, then he loses nothing. And Caruso, the sly fuck, made a bargain with the devil. It’s why he put the stipulation in his will that you never take a paternity test, to keep you from the truth. Cara, you are chasing who your mother was. But the answer is, who is your father?”
“Could it be Mancini? The man Caruso worked for?” she asked.
The laughter from Lorenzo stung. She almost smacked him. There was nothing funny about any of this. When he finally got control of himself, he smiled at her. “Anybody but Mancini. He’s an old, mean, bitter bastard. A traditionalist. A descendant from One of the Five Dons of Sicily. He would take whores, but he’d never take a black one, or even an Italian one. Hell, he’d never dip his dick in anything that wasn’t Sicilian. It’s how those men are. It’s why they looked at Tomosino with such scorn.”
“But he did leave Sicily. Your uncle said he went to America.”
Lorenzo’s smile faded. He frowned, as if looking at her for the first time. “My uncle did say that, didn’t he?”
“And he chased us away. Mancini went to America. Why if he’s such a traditionalist did he go?” Marietta dropped back. “What difference does it make if he fathered a black child? Who would care enough to do all of this?”
“Everyone in his family would care, especially his son. The smug bitch of a son who thinks his blood is pure and he’s the king of Palermo. No. No. It can’t be Mancini.” Lorenzo shifted the car into gear. It revved but he kept his foot on the brake, not driving off. “First, we focus on David. We do it my way. My guess is Rocco will call my cousin and make things difficult for me. We don’t have much time.” Lorenzo lifted her chin with his finger. He wiped at her tears on her cheek with his thumb. “Patience, Cara. Stay with me.”
“I don’t want your protection. You are as dangerous as them.”
Lorenzo smirked. “True, but we understand each other. Don’t we?” He kissed her. Marietta turned from the kiss and he drew her face back to his and kissed her again. This time, she felt herself weaken.
“We aren’t quitters. Are we?”
“No.”
He winked and navigated them back onto the road. “Let’s go to Milan and get the lady some justice.”
Capri –
Mira wanted to change, freshen up Eve as well. He had no choice but to concede. He fixed a drink of his thirty- year- old scotch at the bar. When the phone rang, he didn’t think much of it. In America, it was well after eleven at night so it wasn’t Dominic, and the only other people with the number were the men in the family. Giovanni walked over and picked it up. “Ciao?”
“It’s Rocco.”
Giovanni drank down the scotch and set the glass down for another pour. He balanced the phone between his shoulder and the side of his face. “Everything okay?”
“No. Are you aware that Lorenzo is causing trouble with the Mancinis?”
Frowning, he paused. “What?”
“He was just here with some black puttana, looking to start trouble with Marsuvio. You need to handle it.”
“Don’t tell me what to…”
“Handle it!” Rocco shouted in the phone and the line disconnected. Giovanni stood there, with the phone in his hand, trying to understand the call.
“We’re ready!” Mira said. She had changed into a yellow dress, with pink high heel shoes and a matching sweater. Her hair was free and bushy behind a pink scarf, and the camera was once again around her neck on a thick strap. Eve wore a yellow dress with a white sweater. She ran straight for him, throwing her arms around his legs. “Something wrong?” Mira asked, walking over to him.
Giovanni set the phone back down on the cradle. He plied his daughter off his legs and lifted her up into his arms. “No. It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
She smiled and started toward the door. Giovanni glanced at the phone. The last thing he needed was bullshit with the Sicilians. What the fuck was Lorenzo up to?
Chapter Ten
Grotta Azzurra – Blue Grotto
Warm air, redolent of the salty ocean waves they glided over, filled her lungs. With the sun on her face and the wind in her hair, she felt wonderfully alive. The Tyrrhenian Sea surrounding the green islands made of cliffs and rocky edges, was beyond anything serenely beautiful she’d ever conjured in her dreams. For Mira, photography was a big part of her creativity. She would take images of all kinds of things to tack on her design boards to draw inspiration from. She zoomed in and snapped repeated shots of the cascading maroon and pink wildflowers growing at the cliff’s edge. Their villa was near the Marina Piccola, where they boarded his yacht. For over an hour, she and her loved ones ventured on a tour of the limestone ruins of the Imperial Roman villas. They were stacked along the edge of the cliffs as relics to a time when pagan gods walked the earth.
After the tour, the black and white yacht broke through the royal blue ocean waves and sped toward open waters before completely circling around the bay. Giovanni took the helm. He brought them to a more secluded area, where clear turquoise blue-green water offered an un-obstructed view of the bottom of the ocean. When Mira braved a look over the side, which wasn’t easy, she could actually see fish swimming around green seaweed- covered rocks and reefs.
To her delight, she discovered Giovanni not only knew how to fly planes, play a guitar, and cook the best homemade pizza she’d ever tasted; he was also an excellent ship captain. Was there anything her man could not do? Mira joined him topside in the upper deck. She removed her camera from around her neck and sat next to her daughter. Eve was in the driver’s seat, barely able to see out from under the captain’s hat he placed on her head. He allowed her to steer the wheel when he dropped the anchor, and urged her on as she took the task of navigation seriously.
Giovanni was right. The most enchanting sights of Capri weren’t accessible by land. In fact, he dropped anchor near a secluded enclave, perfect for swimming or s
unbathing, if you were into that. He said, “Here is where they’d watch the sun set before they coasted back to dinner.”
“I love it,” she confessed.
“I thought you might. And look at Eve. You love it too, don’t you bambina.”
Eve continued to rock side to side with arms stretched, and tiny hands gripping the steering wheel.
Mira chuckled. “What’s next?”
“You and I take a private tour. Let Rosetta sit with Eve. Did you talk to her?”
“Rosetta’s a sweet kid. A little easily distracted, but good with Eve. I’m going to spend more time with her after the honeymoon. To get her over this competition with Catalina.”
“She’s lazy, Bella. If she disappoints you in any way, you send her ass back to Melanzana. Okay?”
Mira dismissed the comment with the wave of her hand. “I have her under control.”
“Now, about my tour,” he said with a smile.
“I don’t follow? How do we take a private tour? We’re at sea.”
He lifted their daughter from the seat and she screamed. She spit out her pacifier and immediately began to cry. Her fun halted. Mira eased off the chair and followed him below. Inside, she found Rosetta thumbing through another one of her magazines as Renaldo and Leo sat off to a corner, engrossed in a two man card game. They looked up at their arrival and then back to their cards. Rosetta got to her feet and came over to a crying Eve. When she took her in her arms Eve settled down, but glared at her parents.
“We won’t be long.” Mira promised their daughter. Giovanni had her hand in his and he led her to the doors. They had to walk out along the side of the boat and Mira hated this part most of all. The dank smell of sea water overwhelmed her. And the bobbing on the waves made her stomach lurch. But they made it to the back where two men were shouting at each other in Italian. Mira couldn’t see above Giovanni’s broad shoulders to understand what the commotion was about. Not until they arrived at the back of the yacht. A stepladder was lowered. A boat, a small rowboat, had been detached from the back and dropped in the water.
