La Sposa

by Sienna Mynx

  “No! Absolutely not, Giovanni. I don’t want to get in that thing!”

  He took her hand in his and kissed it. “For me. You’re safe.”

  “No.”

  “Bella, don’t disappoint me. There is nothing to fear.”

  “I said no dammit!” she snapped.

  He gave her a deep pout. “You break my heart. Do you think I would ever do anything to put the mother of my children in harm’s way? Ever?”

  Mira heaved a sigh. She threw up her hands in defeat. “This won’t be fun for me. Hell, the thought of it makes me sick. Why force me?”

  He stepped closer, so his voice was only heard by her. “You told me why you’re afraid of the water. Every time you look at a sailboat, the ocean, you think of death.”

  The comment threw her. She didn’t equate her fear and anxiety with death, did she?

  Giovanni’s violet blue eyes sparkled under the glare of the sunlight “I can’t have you afraid of anything, Bella. You keep me strong.” He touched her face. “You had a bad experience as a child. It’s a memory. Make a new one with me and I promise that fear will no longer rule you.” He kissed her brow. “I will face it with you.” He smiled. “We do this together.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I swear you could talk me into almost anything. You just don’t give up, do you?”

  “Not on you. Never.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. “I’ll do it.”

  He turned and stepped down to the bobbing boat. He had to do a small leap in. She watched in disbelief. No one, not Fabiana or Kei, could ever get her to do this. Ever. He extended his hand for her. The person to her right offered to assist. Mira held her breath with each staggered step on the steel ladder, being extra careful. When her foot landed on the shaky surface of the rowboat, a startled cry escaped her. Giovanni however, had a strong hold on her arm and he helped her, not his men, take a seat. The other man in the boat climbed out. She opened her eyes to see Giovanni sitting across from her. He winked and picked up the oars.

  “Just us? They won’t come?” she asked, alarmed.

  “I have you.” He began to row away. Mira sucked down several gulps of air. Problem was they each tasted of the sea. And every bob or wave felt tenfold in the rowboat. Instead of swallowing a breath, she held it. She did a silent prayer. Giovanni’s whistling made her peek out of one squinted eye. He whistled a familiar tune and kept rowing. She smiled, laughed even. Placing her hands on either side of her, an alien feeling of calm under these circumstances overwhelmed her. It was a mixture of distress, fear, and apprehension, soothed by trust. She opened both her eyes and looked at him for encouragement. He rowed with all his might. The muscular definition of his arms strained against the short sleeves of his shirt. Giovanni’s smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Eventually, the monotonous motion rocking the boat became less threatening. He whistled. He rowed. Mira gave in.

  Milano –

  “Ciao!” Carmine said, before easing into the passenger seat and slamming the door. Lorenzo sped away from the corner. It was his second stop. His first was to drop off Marietta at Villa Dici. He told her to not use the phone and practice patience. The woman had none. When he showed her the professional kitchen he kept on the lower level, he discovered another love she had other than challenging him. Cooking. And she told him she had actually gone to one of the best chef schools in Chicago for a short time. Lorenzo was impressed. He left her to fixing whatever she liked to eat. He was too wound tight with stress to succumb to hunger. He knew it wasn’t easy for her, but slowly she was beginning to learn to trust him, and he her.

  “How long have you been in Milano?” Lorenzo asked.

  “A few hours, got here ahead of you by train,” Carmine said.

  The grip Lorenzo had on the steering wheel tightened. He had half a mind to hunt down Capriccio and blow his fucking skull off his shoulders. But that would be stupid. He’d still have the problem of finding the original photos and master tapes. He needed to be smart.

  “What’s the job, Boss? What do you need me to do?”

  “I want you to be David Capriccio’s shadow. Follow him. Keep an eye on him for the next day or two, and check in with me on his moves. I’m looking for his hiding place. The one he goes to when he wants to get away from all others. Track every person he meets with.”

  Carmine nodded. “Anything you say. I have a few friends here. I can stay with them while I keep an eye on him. Where do I reach you? If I have anything to say.”

  “Check in after ten at Villa Dici.”

  It was the place he bought two years ago after he lost his club. He wanted to turn it into another gambling house, but instead, made it into one of the nicer villas that he leased out to traveling tourists. Carmine nodded that he understood his orders. Carlo was right about the kid. He was obedient, smart, and trustworthy. If he helped him with Capriccio, Lorenzo would consider giving him more responsibility.

  Grotta Azzurra –

  Mira looked up at the sun, it burned bright in the sky. On the yacht, its warmth was comforting. Now, in the rowboat, she felt closer to the ocean wind and a bit chilled. Giovanni continued to row toward a destination she couldn’t discern. He was right, with him her fears lessened. But she doubted a row in a boat had cured her.

  “Behind you,” said Giovanni.

  Mira looked back. There was a small opening at a wall of rocks, which stretched up to a cliff at least forty feet high.

  “What is it? A cave?”

  “Grotta Azzurra, what everyone calls the Blue Grotto. It’s off season so we have it to ourselves.”

  “Wait? We’re going in that? The opening is too small. I don’t think the boat will fit. No. No. We won’t get through that opening.”

  Giovanni chuckled. “We will. You need to lie back, flat, when I tell you to. The current will take us through. Two, three minutes and we are in. I promise.”

  “Why? I…”

  “As soon as we cross over to the grotto, you will understand why. This cave was so sacred that the Emperor Tiberius used it for his baths. The Pope baptized priests here. I believe God has visited many times.” Giovanni looked up at the sky. “The beauty inside is as close to heaven as you will see here on earth. You will feel closer to him when we go through. He sends the sun into the grotto in such a way it overwhelms. Now. Are you ready to be changed forever?” he said, rowing closer to the entrance.

  Love and excitement swelled so tight in her chest, she struggled to breathe. Exhaling slowly, she blinked at him and nodded.

  “Lay back, Bella. Flat.”

  Mira did as he told her and she soon understood why. He was forced to his back. He allowed the current to bring them in under the rocky entrance deeper through the cavern. She could feel the rowboat bobbing wildly for a brief two minutes as they pushed through. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering how easily small boats like this one could flip over. If she died, who would raise Eve? It would be around the same age she believed her mother died and left her an orphan. Why these fears rushed to the surface at that moment she didn’t know. But Mira was tight all over with fear.

  “Now. Look. Open your eyes. Look!”

  Mira slowly complied. First, darkness consumed her. Cave black darkness. Then something magnificent glowed about her. She realized the glow was coming from the water. She sat up to the most wonderful vision. The waters beneath their boat were a neon; almost electric blue, but as clear as ice. She dared to look over the side of the boat into the luminance and could see the white sands glistening below. Above her and around her, was descending darkness. The contrast was so startling she kept blinking, trying to register it all.

  Giovanni began to whistle. The lovely tune echoed back down to him, as if another was there, keeping in harmony. He whistled louder and the echo doubled, tripled, and she couldn’t believe it.

  “Sing,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Sing. Don’t say you can’t. You sing to Eve when you put her to
sleep. Sing for me,” he said

  Mira recalled how sweet and lovely his serenade was for her on the eve of their wedding. She nodded and began to sing. The first song that popped in her head was a gospel one. Maybe it was her surroundings, or her love for him, but she felt closer to God. And her voice carried all around them. The echoes sounded like a chorus. No, they reminded her of a symphony. Giovanni seemed pleased. The song she sang was the one she sang for her grandmother when she buried her first, and then her grandfather, when she had to bury him two years later

  Giovanni closed his eyes.

  She closed her eyes and sang of the sparrow, and how she knew God watches over her.

  Once done, she opened her eyes. And through their drift, they became aglow with the electric blue surface of the water. She laughed and sang louder and the high octaves floated back down to her. “I can’t believe this place. It’s amazing.”

  “Let me teach you to swim?” he asked.

  The request threw her. She felt her heart pace accelerate and she forced down her anxiety when she answered, her smile fading. “Here?”

  “No. Not here. These caves are sacred. We respect them. I want you to see something different about water. I want you to be less afraid, Bella. Strong for us both. No fear.”

  “No fear.” She agreed. “You really do make me stronger.”

  “Promise me, that you will try. You’ll let me teach you how to be less afraid of losing control.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try.”

  Giovanni fastened the oars to the sides of the boat. He then slumped down off the bench to sit at the bottom. “Come.”

  She carefully moved toward him, turning to rest her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and they continued to drift. It was as if they were floating in the sky, the waters were so calm. He kissed the side of her head. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m wonderful.”

  Later –

  Dinner was nice. The restaurant he took her and Eve to had a very homey island feel. The family who owned it welcomed them, as if they were feeding them out of their own kitchen. The matriarch of the business, who was called Mother, brought out her recipe book to Mira and shared some of her favorite dishes. Mira laughed with Giovanni so much over dinner, as they talked about any and everything. She ate so much pasta, she felt as if her stomach stretched the front and sides of her dress.

  Today with him, she discovered a sense of freedom, security, and direction. Giovanni admired her strength, her independence; he said it’s why he pursued her. He accepted her weakness but he didn’t let her settle for any emotionally crippling behavior. Over dinner, he shared that as the mother of his children she would have to protect his babies when he couldn’t be there. What if they got in the pool and he wasn’t around, or fell off a boat as she once did as a child? She needed to know how to swim. Then he dropped a bomb on her as he fed her calamari and Eve ate from his plate. He would teach her how to load and handle a gun.

  Stunned, she didn’t know how to respond. He carried on as if he was talking about teaching her to drive a car. He fed Eve, laughing and sharing tales of how he fired his first gun at the age of seven with the help of his father. Shoot a gun? She would learn to handle a weapon? Mira struggled with the prospect of violence.

  She had thought the night would end in their villa overlooking the bay. They’d make love, and sleep off the hearty meal. He, of course, had other plans. Together they set sail once more, into the night.

  While down in the lower deck with Eve and Rosetta, she drifted to sleep. Giovanni remained topside with the men. But she woke to darkness and a perpetual feeling of drifting. Eve had curled up in her arms and was resting peacefully. Rosetta was gone. Mira rose from her lounge chair confused. She took Eve to a room to the back and placed her on the bed. She set her up carefully and kept the door open. She doubted she’d wake. And she wouldn’t go far.

  Returning to the lounge area, she looked around at the empty quietness. She walked over to the stairs and climbed them to the middle deck. The strong burn of his cigar greeted her. Inside the darkness, she could see the amber-orange flame incinerate the tobacco tip. However, his face remained covered in smoky shadows. “Where is everyone?”

  “I sent them back. I thought we’d stay here tonight. Alone. Together.”

  “The three of us?” Mira looked around.

  Giovanni didn’t answer. His silence drew her attention back to him. “Something wrong?”

  “Come here.” He put out his cigar. She walked over to him and was drawn down to his lap. She sat there comfortably. “There’s something I need. Something I’m not sure you won’t question,” he said.

  Mira looked down into his face. Dark solemn eyes stared back. The blue swirls in his irises reminded her of the majestic waters of the grotto. She touched his face. “What is it?”

  “Our son.” He placed his hand to her stomach. “I want him born in Sicily.”

  Surprised, she didn’t have time to cover her frown. “You do? Can I ask why?”

  “He’s the best of me. I know it’s a boy,” he said in a tightly controlled voice. “My son will know where he came from. He won’t grow up to hate or resent me. He will never feel like less than a man because of his mixed heritage.”

  “Giovanni? Why even make that comparison?”

  “I want him born where all the men of my family were.” His gaze flipped back to her face from her tummy. “He’s Sicilian first.”

  The comment threw her. Their children were many ethnicities. Hell, she barely knew her own lineage. Her grandmother told her that they had roots all the way back to Angola, Africa. And he was half- Irish. Admittedly, she was shocked when she gave birth to a brown baby with blue eyes. Everyone stared at the beauty of Eve, and not all of the looks her daughter got were pleasant ones. She had made up her mind to raise her, mindful of her black heritage. But she was willing to include all of her heritage, not favor a particular one.

  Now he wanted her to say his son would be Sicilian? If he wanted Sicilian progeny, why marry a black woman? It made no sense. She leaned in to kiss away his sour mood. Her lips pressed softly to his and he didn’t respond. Something troubled him, and he wouldn’t divulge it easily. She dropped her forehead against his. “I haven’t found a doctor yet. The brief visit we had in Sorrento was just the first. After our honeymoon, we’ll have regular visits and a personal doctor. How do we do this Sicily thing?”

  Giovanni nodded, as if he thought it all through. “I have a place in Mondello Beach. It’s beautiful. It’s where my mother stayed when she was pregnant with me. We’ll visit. It’s a good place for Eve too. I will make sure you get a referral and everything you need.”

  The comparison to where his mother was forced to stay by his father to where she’d spend her days before giving birth, reminded her of the choices they’d made when she had Eve. She wanted different memories this time around. If they have a son, her wishes would be just like all mothers’ wishes were, including his. She’d want him to grow up to become a doctor or lawyer, anything but a mafia boss like his father. These thoughts and fears were ones she kept to herself. One look into her husband’s eyes and she knew his traditions; and even worse, his superstitions were so deeply ingrained in him, she couldn’t argue against it. Like everything in their love that needed a little modifying, she’d find a way to convince him otherwise, and still appease him. Mira nodded her agreement. “We can visit Mondello and then you can convince me.”

  “Grazie, Bella. You continue to make me a happy man.”

  “Giovanni?” She grabbed his chin and spoke in a firm tone. “Our children are more than your progeny; they are the best of us both. Yes they are Sicilian, but they are black, Irish, all that makes up you and me. We won’t deny any of that. It’ll make them stronger. Do you understand?”

  He smiled. She kissed his lips, and then kissed his lips again. This time he did respond, with mastery. She loved how sweet and tender his kisses could be. His open palm s
lid over her thigh and his other hand went up her back. Her blood heated and their kiss deepened. It became more demanding of them both, as his tongue swept in and out of her mouth, taking control. Mira slowly eased open his shirt one button at a time. She dragged her kisses from his mouth to his neck. When his shirt was fully open, she used both hands to smoothly go over the powerful definition of his muscular chest. She lowered from his lap, while tracing his tattoo with her tongue, and got to her knees between his parted thighs. Her tongue dipped into his navel, just the tip. She glanced up at him, watching his chest heave and fall with finely laid hairs that thickened under his navel and arrowed down into his pants. He stared as she fumbled with his belt, unbuttoned him, and dragged down his zipper. Already prevalent, his erection bulged up against his silk boxers.

  “Are we alone? No one else on the yacht?”

  He nodded.

  “Good.”

  She pulled down his boxers and pants and Giovanni lifted his ass to aid her. Mira had to stop at his knees, and remove his shoes and socks. She wanted him bare from the waist down. And he soon was. Running her hands up the top of his thighs, she came back between his parted knees. His dick was so erect it bobbed up and rested against his belly. She put her hand around the root of his shaft and stroked up. Giovanni’s head dropped back before she put her mouth on him.

  The delay was short. She relaxed her jaws to take him all in. First her sucks were hurried and desperate. To taste an inhalation of him sent a sexual charge through her already hormonal state that she couldn’t control. The only air drawn into her lungs went through her flared nostrils. Her blood felt hot, her skin feverish. She wanted him so bad it became one big ache and she almost abandoned her efforts to climb his lap and get relief. Instead she began a slow suction, bringing her mouth to the head of his penis; opening her mouth wider to allow her tongue to lick and tease him with sexy flicks, until deep grunts of satisfaction escaped him. Mira let him go. She stood and reached under her dress to pull down her panties, then tossed them aside. Dazed, Giovanni barely looked up when she climbed on him. Her knees pressed in tight to his sides by the limited room in the chair.