by Mynx, Sienna
“I… no… I only did it because I was afraid.”
“No.” Mira smiled. “You did it to score points with Dominic. I’ve watched you play games around this house. Keep little fires going. I had hoped you would mature and focus on being part of this family. And now I learn that you aren’t only selfish and spoiled but dangerous. I should tell Giovanni about what you did to Cecilia.”
“No Donna! It was an accident.”
“Hush now! You and I both know it wasn’t. And to think I trusted you with Eve. I am so disappointed in you Rosetta.”
“Please,” Rosetta rushed to her. “Please don’t send me away. Please!”
Mira shook her head and pushed her off her. “I don’t want anyone in this family I can’t trust. And until I feel otherwise about you, don’t come to Melanzana without permission from me.”
“But you said last night that you were wrong to make Zia lie. That you should have never asked any of us to lie.” Rosetta reasoned. “It’s Cecilia word against mine. I only called Dominic because I was worried for you.”
“I’m your Donna. What I say and what I do are two different things entirely.” Mira imformed her.
“No. You can’t send me home to Papa! I’ll die!” Rosetta wept.
“He’ll be here to pick you up. Save your false tears for him. You better hurry and finish packing.” Mira said.
She walked out to Rosetta’s screaming wails.
* B *
Rocco shuffled with his cup to the table. Giovanni watched his uncle. For years his uncle was at his fathers’ side. Until one day he was banished to the vineyard. No one knew the true story. But from what he did know Rocco was once as ruthless and conniving as Tomosino and Marsuvio. Maybe he still was.
“Zio?” Giovanni walked in.
“I see you staring, Gio. I was waiting for you to join me,” Rocco exhaled. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night to stop the women. I was in Bagheria visiting my brother. I had no idea Zia would pull a stunt like this. I’ve spoken with her. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s done. Let’s not rehash it.”
“Sit. It’s time we talk.” Rocco sipped from his cup.
“So you know I wanted to talk.” Giovanni asked. He walked over and pulled out a chair.
“I thought you might, when I heard this morning that you paid a visit to Mancini.”
“He’s dead,” Giovanni replied.
“I know,” Rocco replied.
Giovanni sighed. “You told me that Patri put a contract on Mira’s mother’s life. We now know that it’s not true. Why did you lie to me?”
Rocco set his mug down. “Your father kept trying to reason with Mancini. Bargain with the Five Dons. Flavio and I knew something more decisive needed to happen. At the time I served as your father’s left hand. He gave me power neded to do the difficult things. As you do with Lorenzo,” Rocco glanced over to Giovanni and held his stare. “When Capriccio shared Mancini’s weakness, he asked for permission to kill the black whore that made his boss so weak. Flavio didn’t agree to it. At first. But I…” Rocco looked up. “I did.”
“You?” Giovanni said.
Rocco picked up his cup and sipped. He set it down on the saucer. “Tomosino discussed it with Mancini’s father. They agreed that killing a mother and child was disgraceful. Neither would approve of it. But I had aleady set it in motion. Tomosino was advised. If the kill order had happened and Mancini discovered the truth, Tomosino’s brotherhood with Mancini would have been over. Apparently that friendship meant more to him than me, his own brother. He humiliated me for it. Put me on my knees in front of Cappriccio and the other men. One of many times he took pleasure in breaking me. As you do with Lorenzo,” Rocco said.
“Not true.” Giovanni scowled.
“It is true son. Cappricio was sent back to America with nothing more than a mission to report on Mancini’s affairs. How the poor woman died is not something I know. But my role in it I had to conceal. I love Mira. I was shocked and sick over learning she is the long lost daughter of Marsuvio. That she is the baby I almost had murdered,” Rocco sighed. “My final punishment was a more public shaming. My brother banished me to be a farmer. Stripping me of my rank. He let Flavio’s role in the matter pass and I was the only one punished for conspiring to go against his wishes.” Rocco chuckled. “I didn’t want to clear Tomosino’s name. But I knew if you pursued this somehow the truth would surface.” Rocco looked up at him. “I warned you against being rash. Acting out without cause. Betraying omerta. I warn you of these things because I was the one foolish enough to do these things.”
Giovanni stroked his jaw. “I don’t really know you, do I Rocco?”
Rocco shrugged. “No son, you don’t.”
“Mira doesn’t have to know you in any way other than as Zio Rocco. Capice?”
Rocco picked up Giovanni’s hand and kissed his ring. “Capice.”
The Next Day –
From a distance Carmella watched them. Mirabella Battaglia stood next to Marietta. The ceremonial burial service at the gravesite was now over. The Battaglias had kept a respectful distance during the funeral. The Donna, however, was hard to miss. She wore a slimming black skirt with a black silk blouse. Carmella marveled at how nicely polished and trim her figure looked from afar after delivering twins. Her large oval shaped sunglasses covered her eyes. Her sister wore a veil over her face. To everyone else their presence was easily explained by their husbands’ presence. Afterall it was a matter of respect that the Battaglias attend.
The Mancini family left the grave first. Two of the women in the family were on the arms of Armando to comfort him. Of course Armando showed no emotion. Carmella hadn’t seen him shed a tear since they carried his father out the front door. And when she tried to be supportive he sent her away.
There was nothing left between them. She accepted that fact now. She glanced up once more to see the Battaglia wives, Marietta and Mirabella, walk hand in hand to the open grave. They both held long stem blue roses. Carmella assumed they had come from Eve’s garden. They said something she couldn’t hear and then tossed in the roses in for their father. Carmella had seen enough. She turned and walked away. She’d collect her things and leave Sicily. Maybe go to Greece, or Spain. Anywhere.
She walked through the prickly tall grass toward her car. If she had been paying attention she would have seen the man standing in the shadows of leaving mourners watching her. She didn’t. Numb to everything in her life she opened the door and got inside.
The passenger door opened. Carlo eased in to the passenger seat.
“What are you doing? Why are you in my car?” Carmella gasped.
Carlo dropped the seat back and made himself comfortable.
“Carlo? I asked you a question. Why are you in my car?” she repeated.
Carlo cut her a sideways look. “Drive.”
“No.”
He stared at her.
With a shaky hand she turned over the ignition and drove out of the graveyard.
* B *
Mira and Giovanni arrived in their own car. Her sister and Lorenzo had decided to drive themselves to the funeral. As they travelled out of the graveyard they headed for the airport. The family was there waiting.
“Are you okay, Bella,” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. She kept her sunglasses on to cover her tears. Why she cried for a father she never knew was beyond her, especially a man as despicable as Marsuvio Mancini. She should hate him for what he’d done to her mother. She didn’t.
“Giovanni?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you think it’s possible for Marietta and me to get to know Armando?” she asked. She glanced over to him. “In a matter of weeks I’ve learned I have a brother and sister. It seems strange to leave it there.”
“There’s something you should know,” Giovanni began. “Armando isn’t interested in a relationship with you, Bella. He paid Carmella to try to poison you.”
�
��Poison me?” Mira double blinked. She couldn’t fathom that Carmella had been fixing their food and trying to poison her.
“Yes. Carmella was stopped. Armando denies it, but we are clear that it was him.” He kept his focus on the road as he spoke. “It’s not safe for you to trust him, or reach out to him. Do you understand?”
“Completely. I guess he’s like his father.” Mira said. A numbing feeling of bleakness went though her.
“We men are all like our fathers, unfortunately,” Giovanni said.
Mira extended her hand and placed it over his leg. She watched the last of Sicily pass by her window. And she felt nothing.
* B *
“You okay, Marie?” Lorenzo asked.
“I guess,” she removed her hat and tossed it to the back seat. They were following Mira and Giovanni out of the graveyard. “I didn’t feel anything. He was a stranger to me.”
“For the best.” Lorenzo nodded. “After hearing what he did to your mother it’s understandable.”
“Yeah,” Marietta turned her gaze toward the window and blinked away her tears. Part of her did feel something. She just didn’t know what to name the emotion. Until she did she wouldn’t discuss it.
“There’s something you should know.” Lorenzo said. “I told Giovanni that we would keep the inheritance. It’s your money, and property.”
“I don’t want anything from him,” Marietta said.
“What abour our children? We need to think of our future, Marie. Their legacy.” Lorenzo said.
Marietta closed her eyes. He’d been mentioning children more and more. The man wasn’t even aware she was on birth control pills. She hadn’t found the right moment to tell him. “Can we not discuss it now?” she asked.
“I’m your husband. A decision like this is mine to make. I’ve made it.”
Marietta frowned. She glanced over at him. “Why? Why do you want the money?”
Lorenzo smirked and said nothing. She rolled her eyes away. “I don’t want anything to do with him. Ever.”
Epilogue
Six Weeks Later –
“Wait up!” Marietta panted. She stopped and bent over with her hands gripping her knees she tried to catch a breath. Her hands were pressed to her knees. They’d run for two miles and Mira was ahead of her. She had no choice but to push onward.
Sorrento at the end of summer had beautiful clear skies and nicely warm weather. Marietta and her sister ran the path out from behind Melanzana that circled to the east side of Villa Rosso. Mira wore her hair in a ponytail that swayed and reached just to the bottom of her neck. She made jogging look easy. With the burn of the run achingly strong at the back of her thighs, Marietta raced ahead with unwavering determination. She had to squint whenever the sun’s glare became too much.
She caught up to find Mira pacing. She cooled down as she waited for her.
“What the hell man? It’s a jog not a sprint!” Marietta wheezed.
Mira swung her arms left and right twisting the top of her torso at the waist. “You used to out run me, now look at you,” she chuckled.
“Whatever, wonder woman.” Marietta smiled. As she gulped down the cool air into her lungs she let her gaze wash over Mira from head to toe. The baby weight had peeled from her middle section. She had some left in her breasts, hips and ass. Everything looked to be tucked into the right place. “You look good, girl.”
Mira looked down at herself. She smiled. “Thanks to you. Fastest weight loss diet of my life. I’d cut off my right arm for a cheeseburger though.”
Marietta chuckled. She looked at her watch. “We got to get you ready. Lorenzo said they’d be back before dinner.”
Mira nodded. She and Marietta started walking toward the house. “So what have you decided?” Mira asked. “About my offer.”
It was the question Marietta had hoped to avoid. She knew what her husband wanted. But she’d had other desires. She looked over to Mira. “I love my life. Who knew I’d like living here in Melanzana—with your clan.”
Mira chuckled. “Then join my clan. Work with Catalina to get Fabiana’s going strong. In a few months I will need you both to deal with expansion. I’m thinking of closing New York and moving that office to Paris.”
“I’m not a fashion designer, Mira,” Marietta sighed.
“But you’re talented. You ran your own business.”
“Yep, ran it into the ground,” she half joked.
“Be serious. The sky is the limit. We can do something more commercial. Who knows?” Mira said.
“It feels weird. Working for a company named after my husband’s dead girlfriend.” Marietta admitted. She peeked over at Mira to see if she offended her.
Mira waved off the comment. “That’s not your reason for holding back. What is it?”
“I’m not holding back,” she chuckled. “My husband wants his own dynasty. We have to meet with Armando next week. He’s still negotiating with the man. He wants me to take the money, the property, all of it.”
“And?” Mira asked.
“You don’t want to keep it?” Marietta asked.
“Giovanni and I already discussed it. We don’t need the Mancini fortune. The only reason I haven’t signed it over is because of this feud between my husband and Armando.” Mira panted. “I think Lorenzo is influencing Giovanni on this. They might want to take over control of Mancini’s interests. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“He’s our brother,” Marietta said. “We should acknowledge it.”
Mira stopped. Marietta looked back. “Well he is,” Marietta shrugged.
“He doesn’t see it that way, Marietta.” Mira reminded her. “He did try to poison me.”
“Yeah. There’s that. But that was before he met us, and he feels really remorseful for it.” Marietta reasoned.
“And how would you know how he feels?” Mira asked.
Marietta looked away. Mira stepped to her. “Have you been in contact with Armando Mancini?”
“He wants to get to know me. We’re the only siblings he’s got. I know how that feels,” Marietta said. “To be alone in the world.”
“Absolutely not. It won’t work. It can’t work. And you should never have discussions with him behind Lorenzo’s back. It’s dangerous.”
“It will work if you talk to your husband. Ask Giovanni to let us try. If we both keep our inheritance then Armando and us will have to work together. Get to know each other.”
“I stand with my husband, Marietta,” Mira said. “It’s not a battle I want to fight.”
“Well Lorenzo wants the inheritance because of greed.”
“What do you want?” Mira asked.
“I want to know my brother the same way I got to know you. I want a family.”
Mira smiled. She dropped her arm around Mira’s shoulder. “When are you going to see it, Marietta? You already have one.”
She hugged her. Marietta hugged her tightly. Even Mira’s sweat smelled sweet. Marietta shook her head and released her. “Enough talk. Let’s do your hair. Everything is ready for you tonight.”
Mira laughed. She started to jog back and Marietta fell in step at her side. They ran silently for a moment. “Hey, can I ask you a question?” Mira asked.
“Sure,” Marietta panted.
“Do you strip and dance for Lorenzo?”
Marietta stopped with a burst of laughter. She laughed so hard she dropped to her hands and knees. She looked up grinning. “Why did you ask me that?”
“I wasn’t invading your privacy. I swear. But…” Mira chewed on her lips. “The other day I was on your hall and I passed your room. The music was playing. I couldn’t help but be curious from the sounds of that music.”
Marietta chuckled. “When my husband is agitated it helps him unwind. You want some lessons?”
“Me? No! I just, its just you two are… you’re perfect for each other,” Mira said.
“Thank you, Queen B.”
Mira paused. “On second thought. If you
could teach me a few moves, I wouldn’t mind.” She then started to jog away.
“Sure! That’s what sisters are for!” Marietta yelled after her. She got up, dusted her hands and tried to catch up.
* B *
Lorenzo reclined in the chair. His office was on the same hall as Giovanni’s. He expected his cousin to return that afternoon. He didn’t feel good about the prison visit Giovanni insisted upon making. Why pay Santo any kind of visit? Why show him any mercy?
Carlo knocked on his door and entered.
“I thought you’d be in here,” said Carlo.
“Giovanni isn’t back yet,” Lorenzo grumbled. Carlo closed the door. He chose the seat on the sofa instead of the one in front of his desk.
“It’s a good thing. We convicted Santo with no proof. If there is a chance that he didn’t betray us, he deserves the benefit of famiglia protection,” Carlo said.
Lorenzo grimaced. “He deserves shit.”
Carlo shook his head. “I’ve done everything you asked, Lo. Dr. Buhari? I gutted him after Armando Mancini’s men roughed him up. Killed the two-faced bastard. Your orders. And Carmella, I got rid of her so Giovanni wouldn’t have to consider doing it himself.” Carlo shook his head. “I’ve done everything you wanted. Now it’s time for you and I to stand down. Let Giovanni lead us.”
“I’m only helping him,” Lorenzo said. “Gio was too distracted to deal with those two. Dominic’s too weak. That’s why I’m his left hand. That’s why I do what is necessary, before he conceives it. And I tell you Santo isn’t to be trusted.”
Carlo stared at him. “It’s not your call, Lo.”
“Beh!” Lorenzo shot his hand up in a dismissive manner. “Renaldo returned a week ago.” Lorenzo smiled. He removed the folder. He opened it and pulled out the images. A dead Octavio Leone was on each photo. “My wife’s nightmares are over.”
“You plan to tell her?” Carlo asked.
“No. Not unless she mentions the bastard. Or maybe I’ll save it for her birthday,” he chuckled.
“How is she?” Carlo asked.
