Destino (Battaglia Mafia Series)

by Mynx, Sienna

  She opened her eyes, and met his steady gaze.

  His repeated thrusts sent heat swirling up and around her womb. She’d never had ravishment feel so glorious. Though her lids wanted to fall shut in submission once more she didn’t dare disobey his command. Instead she worked her lower half with him. His face lowered and his mouth suctioned her neck so hard she knew she’d be bruised in the morning, but he continued to deliver such pleasurable thrusts below it became a strange mix. Her legs were pinned back to her shoulders and she could barely work her hips beneath him. Then in a flash he withdrew and turned her over. Mira gasped, grabbing the sheets until they snatched free of the corners of the bed. He shot back in her and his wildly thrusting shaft stretched her channel unmercifully. His hot damp chest fell on top of her back and he fucked her fast, he fucked her slow, he fucked her with so much control she was crying out his name for release. And he did. Hot jets of sperm filled her as his cock jerked in her. She groaned and melted beneath him.

  Giovanni lie perfectly still and Mira wept into her pillow. Never had she cried from such a pleasurable relief. Embarrassed by how wildly excited her body felt, she rubbed her tears away in the pillow as he withdrew.

  “I think I’m in love.” He exhaled.

  Mira's head lifted from the pillow. His chest was heaving hard and fast with his ragged breathing, but there was such a contented smile of satisfaction on his face she smiled. The truth was, no matter how incredibly, inexplicably, uncharacteristically irrational it was of her she had fallen hard and fast for this man. “That was intense.”

  “It was wonderful,” he said, lifting his flushed face to smile into her eyes. “It was heaven.”

  He lifted from her and rolled over to her side. “Hungry?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’ll bring the food to you.” He rose. She rolled to her side and studied him. He wanted her to stay. For how long? God she was tempted.

  Lorenzo turned and Fabiana rolled up against his chest into his arms. He smiled and drew her into a snug embrace, his hand stroked her backside while he rested his chin on the top of her head. She was becoming a habit. One he didn’t plan to break. Dinner and dancing had recharged his battery. And her sex had him wanting to touch her skin in his dreams.

  What the fuck did he care about work? Giovanni had cut his balls when he shut down Isabella’s, the gambling rooms and whores were gone. Now he was left with whatever scraps fell from the table. Hell Carlo saw more action on the front lines of dealing with business matters than him.

  He closed his eyes and repressed his resentment. Fabiana had caught him by surprise. He wanted to fuck her, yes. But this, the coddling and dating was something he hadn’t done since his failed engagement. This beautiful Italian American woman drank wine to whiskey with him and laughed at his jokes. Then she fucked him every way he pleased. And even now she was blowing his mind. There was nothing to worry over. The phone rang. He frowned. His room had a private line that he shared with few. He fell to his back and reached in the dark for the ringing phone. Fabiana groaned, waking she eased on top of him. To his delight she started to kiss his chest and go lower easing down under the covers to wrap that beautiful mouth of hers around his dick.

  “Hello?”

  “You sleep?” Carlo asked.

  “No.”

  “Good.” He heard his best friend take a drag of something he was smoking, possibly marijuana. “We got trouble.”

  “What else is new?”

  “Calderone trouble. That is new.”

  Lorenzo sat upright. He pressed the receiver end of the phone hard against his ear. He didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink, he waited.

  “They think the stupid fucker is dead. I hear rumors Lo. Rumors Gio won’t like.”

  Lorenzo expected the rumors. It was the truth he feared most. “And?”

  “You clean?”

  “What the fuck you ask me?” Lorenzo reclined back against his pillow just as Fabiana’s front teeth scraped his cock. He winced. She made it up to him with her sweet licks and kisses. Damn woman was killing him. No way his dick could summon the energy to respond.

  “I’m just making sure. I have your back, I have to know if you’re dirty.”

  “I’m clean. Fuck Calderone, baggiano! I can give a shit what’s happened to him.”

  The line clicked off. Lorenzo dropped the phone. It dangled on its twisted cord. He arched his back from the bed as Fabiana sucked him hard and fast. To his surprise his body responded the way she instructed. Even in the midst of mind blowing pleasure, he knew the tide had turned. He had to be careful or lose it all.

  Chapter Nine

  “Morning.” Catalina chirped. She sashayed into her brother’s office with a tiny cup of espresso. Giovanni glanced up as the cup was set on his desk in front of him. He sat back and fixed his gaze on his sister. He’d left Mira asleep, and planned to return to her before the sun fully rose. Flavio had air-messaged documents for him to sign.

  “What are you doing up this early?” Giovanni asked dryly. He closed the binder before him and eased it into the drawer he kept under lock and key.

  “I was making sure breakfast was prepared for our guest. Saw the light on and knew you were in here. I am the donna of this house you know.”

  Catalina wore a long blush pink robe. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, causing her long spiral curls to sway past her shoulders. He smiled at how much she looked like their mother when she was younger. Though her skin was a golden tan like her Sicilian ancestors, her face, eyes, and mannerisms were all Eve. She was his mother reincarnate. Softening he gestured for her to sit.

  “I have a problem, Giovanni.”

  “Do you?”

  “Franco wants to move us back to Palermo when we are married. He wants to run his father’s bottling business. I want to stay in Firenze or here in Sorrento in our family home. We have more than enough room. Can’t he work for you?” she asked innocently.

  “He will be your husband, so you will stay where he says.” Giovanni reclined back in his chair. “You know this.”

  “Well, that’s bullshit!” she shouted.

  “Watch your tongue.”

  Catalina folded her arms in a full pout. “I have no say in anything. I didn’t complain when you said I had to marry Franco, I didn’t complain when you said I couldn’t have my wedding in Paris, and I didn’t complain when you said that Aurora had to be in the wedding although you know I hate her! I don’t want to live in no damn Palermo!”

  Giovanni listened. He granted her liberties to speak to him in ways no one else in the family besides Lorenzo dare try. When he didn’t give his sister the response she wanted she went for his balls.

  “Did you know Mira Ellison is engaged to be married to some rich Chinese man in America? It’s in one of my magazines upstairs. I can show you the article.”

  “I thought you were going to see to breakfast?” Giovanni asked.

  Catalina rose and crossed her arms in front of her. “Promise me you will speak to Franco about Palermo? I don’t want to be away from you and Lorenzo. You are all I have, no mama or papa, just you and Lorenzo.”

  “I will talk to him,” he promised. “I want you to be respectful and gracious to our guests. Don’t disappoint me.”

  “I won’t,” she smiled sweetly.

  Mira woke. He returned very quietly. She listened a moment longer and heard him release a deep sigh. The morning rays were beginning to pour in through the open doors of his balcony. She found the large double mattress bed soft as a cloud, and she usually didn’t like soft beds. After playing, talking, eating and finishing two bottles of wine he made the sweetest love to her under the covers. Slowly she turned her head to see if he had closed his eyes. He stared straight ahead, deep in thought.

  “Morning?” she rolled to him and he opened his arm in welcoming.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked his voice hoarse and gruff.

  “No. I was waiting for you,” she lied.

  “Forgiv
e me Bella. I promised to be here when you woke.”

  She looked up at him. The joke fell flat. In fact it kind of stung. She wasn’t so needy that she’d pitch a fit if he weren’t there, though she did give him a hard time before. “What is it? What has you leaving the room constantly and looking so worried? Can’t you share your troubles with me?”

  “No.” He scooted down the covers and faced her on his pillow. “I have a question for you.”

  “Mmkay,” she said kissing his nose.

  “Are you engaged to be married in America?”

  Mira double blinked. “Wha-um-no. No. Who told you that?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I believe you.” He then kissed her softly. “Are you ready for a trip out to Tuscany? Just you and I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s shower and make love. Then we can join everyone for breakfast.”

  “I thought breakfast wasn’t a tradition in Italy?”

  “My mother is Irish. Breakfast was always served from her table. Besides my little sister loves America. She spends a lot of my money in New York City. Breakfast is her favorite meal of the day. Catalina knows what is proper; she will feed you.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “After breakfast I will show you another side of my life. Remember my goal is to keep you with me,” he kidded.

  “I can’t wait.”

  Fabiana sashayed out of the bathroom and paused. Lorenzo placed the receiver back on its cradle. It was the third phone call he’d accepted that morning. She knew something was wrong. She could feel it. But her guy told her nothing. He showered her with gifts and sweet talk but gave her little of himself. In the harsh light of the new day, their arrangement didn’t feel as appealing as before.

  “I’m thinking I might go to Napoli. Visit the boutique today to check in. We have two floors with employees running our business, and we haven’t been back since the show in Milan.”

  “No.” he rose. He wore dark slacks and no shirt.

  “No?”

  “We have such a short time together. I don’t want you to go.”

  Fabiana cut her eyes. Not believing his bullshit.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “Yes. With you, not me. We get close and then you shut down. You can trust me Lorenzo. Talk to me. I can see you’re stressed. Maybe I can help.”

  Lorenzo smiled. “Cara, I’m enjoying every minute with you. That is all you see.”

  Fabiana uncrossed her arms. She had to get out of her own head. It was she who asked so little. Mira warned her about being eager with men. This one she liked, a lot. She felt the heartstrings connecting with his. It could be the makings of love. “For starters your life. I know you aren’t married, and you never mention any family outside of this. Where is your mother? Your father?”

  “Come here.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

  Fabiana walked over in bare feet. She wore a summer dress with thin straps and a long split. He pulled her down to his lap and kissed her under the neck. “My mother is dead. She died of breast cancer, many years ago. My father died when I was only twelve. He was murdered. I was raised with no siblings, just Giovanni and Dominic. Then came Catalina. You’ve met them all.”

  “Right. I have. But who are you Lorenzo?”

  “Who am I? I’m second. Second in everything.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  He let go a gust of laughter. She thought he was kidding, but the pain in his eyes said differently. “Si. I’m nephew not son, cousin not brother, capo not consigliere, never first Cara. I’ve competed with being first for a very long time. Then I met you. I look at you and I don’t feel second. I feel chosen. You have chosen me no?”

  Stunned she nodded.

  A sly smile moved across his lips. “Sei bellissima. Grazie. For being mine.”

  His lips, soft, lush and persistent brushed hers and started the kiss that swept her breath from her lungs. He lowered her to the bed, and she held to him, to the feeling of having him. The kiss came to a natural end, but his forehead pressed to hers. “I’m in need of a favor.”

  She frowned. “From me?”

  “An inspector will come in the morning. He will tell you and your friend that your business is closed again. This time you won’t question it. Capisci? You will explain it to your friend and help her accept it. Then you will convince her to stay here.”

  “Lorenzo I…”

  “Not permanently. Just a few days longer than you intended to stay. A week, no longer, I promise. C’mon, you know who I am. What I do. Trust me. This trouble will pass in a few weeks. Until then you and her are safest here. The phone call was my cousin. You know what power he has.”

  “Yes, I have no illusions of who Giovanni Battaglia is. The head of the Cammora, of your family.”

  “Very good. This is his wish, and we have to abide by it.”

  “Then why can’t he just be honest with Mira? She’s my best friend. I won’t manipulate her for him.”

  “Then will you do it for me. It’s in her best interest and yours. It will only cause her undo worry. You run her business right? Right?”

  “Yes, but Lo—”

  “Shhh, consider this another business negotiation. I haven’t told you the best part. You do this, convince Mira to stay here with my cousin for a longer vacation, and he will get your business visa cleared. You can buy property, cut through all the negotiations with that useless solicitor. Tell me this isn’t a deal worth making. Huh? Tell me?”

  “It could help us. Are you sure he will do this?”

  Lorenzo nodded. “He’s taken with her as I am with you. He doesn’t want our business to interfere with your lives. This is a good deal for you both. Can you do this for me angelo? Can you do this without question?”

  “Will it help you, be more than second?” she reached up and touched his face.

  His dark sapphire blue eyes narrowed on her. “Si. It will help me.”

  “Then I’ll do it. I’ll figure something out for our workers. I can handle Mira.”

  Lorenzo smirked. “I’m hungry, let’s join everyone for breakfast.”

  He held her hand everywhere they went. The brief tour of his home was a bit overwhelming. He covered the front wings. There were lower levels and wine cellars she hadn’t seen. The place had two kitchens, one used to prepare formal dinners with four stoves, a walk in freezer, a drink refrigerator, a wine closet and other top chef appliances. The other kitchen was a bit smaller with a gas stove and a brick layered oven heated by wood and coal, and a small white fridge. It reminded her of a cozy home atmosphere with large tin pots and skillets. He said the larger one was built for his mother but she refused to cook in it. To this day Zia and Catalina cooked out of the smaller one. Finally he brought her to an outside terrace that faced one of the most spectacular views. There was a pool with a roman statuesque fountain that looked strangely authentic. Also a two-story cottage down a garden path, and mountains everywhere.

  “Morning sweetie,” Fabiana bit into a pastry, seated before a vibrant spread of bright red, lime green, yellow and purple slices of fruit and fresh baked pastries.

  Catalina looked over her shoulder at Mira and then cut her eyes, mumbling a greeting.

  “Hi everyone, good morning.” Mira said, as her guy pulled out a chair for her and she sat. A few men, possibly under his employ rose from the table taking their cups of coffee with them. Mira made eye contact with Catalina. Even without makeup she was gorgeous. She decided to make an attempt at being friendly. “So I hear you will be married soon.”

  “I will. It’s difficult because,” she glanced over at Mira. “Still looking for the perfect dress.”

  “You have two dresses being delivered this week. Enough talk of this dress. You will choose from what we bought.” Giovanni said sternly.

  Mira was grateful. It was her vacation and a short one. In another week this fantasy would end and she’d be in her shop working hard on next season’s line. Designing a wedding dress for
a spoiled little Mafia princess, didn’t feel appealing. She reached for a pastry and some of the sliced fruit on the platter, turning her attention to her friend. “What are you doing today?”

  “Horseback riding. Here at Melanzana.”

  “You have horses?” Mira asked.

  Giovanni winked.

  “Oh. That’s nice. I didn’t know you had horses.” She glanced down to Giovanni. He sipped his coffee, returning his attention to the newspaper he had unfolded to read.

  “We have over three hundred acres of land. I wanted to show it to Fabiana. You and Giovanni can come.”

  “No. We have plans.” He announced. Lorenzo’s gaze switched to Mira and locked with hers. There were times his sly smiles made her uneasy. But again she suppressed that feeling. They ate breakfast and enjoyed light conversation.

  “Where is Domi? I’ve been waiting for him all morning.” Catalina asked.

  “I sent him away on business. He’ll return.”

  “What! Why? He… he and I… we had things to do.”

  Lorenzo chuckled. “Yes Gio. Domi is better suited running errands for little Catalina than tending to our affairs.”

  Giovanni gave Lorenzo a silencing glare. “He’ll be back tomorrow, Catalina.”

  The young woman let loose a few angry words in Italian and stormed off. Mira found her reaction interesting. She and Fabiana exchanged looks but said little.

  “Are we ready to go, Bella?” Giovanni asked.

  The breakfast was sweet and fresh. The pastries had to have been homemade. She nodded and rose and followed him out. Outside parked in the circular drive was a box shaped jeep with an open top. She eased on her sunglasses and silently wished she hadn’t spent so much energy straightening her hair. The wind would have it wilder than an Angela Davis afro.

  “After you.” He extended his hand to help her climb up into the elevated seat. Giovanni took the time to secure her belt around her, before kissing her cheek. He walked around the front of the vehicle and slipped inside with a gun in his hand. When did he pull a gun? She stared as he tossed it into the glove compartment. She assumed he had it on him since they left the room.