Destino (Battaglia Mafia Series)

by Mynx, Sienna

  The organist changed to the traditional tune and Mira’s head lifted to see the priest appear from the front of the church draped in a long white robe with a gold cross stitched on either side of his lapel, holding a bible. He was followed by two other priests. The side door opened and Franco followed by his groomsmen appeared in single file formation. The wedding began without delay. She turned in her seat to watch the flower girls followed by the bridesmaids as the organist switched to a lovely melody. Mira nervously awaited the vision she’d seen this morning. Catalina was the most beautiful bride she’s ever dressed. The priest instructed for all to rise, and Mira moved a little forward to get a better view.

  Giovanni appeared with his sister on his arm. Catalina’s veil completely shielded her face from view but, even covered, she captivated all in attendance. Mira beamed with pride at how beautiful the gown was that carved out the bride’s tiny waist, with the sparsely beaded corset and belled out skirt draping off her hips. The skirt wasn’t too poufy and the soft flowing material caused it to glide behind her in a long train that carried the same pattern. Mira had stitched delicate diamond cut patterns that could only be seen when the light caught it with each step she took. The dress, done in a satin silk blend from the hip down, gave her the elegant appearance of royalty.

  When Giovanni delivered Catalina to the altar and put her hand in Franco’s, Mira swore from her close proximity that his eyes watered. The priest read from the bible, blessing the passing of Catalina to her new husband, and Giovanni took a seat at Mira’s side.

  Franco lifted Catalina’s veil, smiling into his bride’s eyes. He held her hand leading her to the altar, kneeling in front of the nuptial bench to begin the matrimony sacrament. Mira took Giovanni’s hand as the ceremony progressed, and he looked over at her, smiling warmly. In the midst of the vows being exchanged before her, she digested her role as his woman.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blue roses.

  They were everywhere. Mira stepped off the veranda onto the grass, awestruck by the festive floral display. Signora Clara and her wedding crew had set up the reception in the back of the villa just beyond the pool. She’d taken painstaking measures to ensure the Battaglia grounds were that out of a storybook.

  The party planners erected a huge reception area made out of white, baby blue and yellow ribbons that crisscrossed each other several feet in the air connecting to the four pillared post, which outlined the dining area. The pillars themselves were adorned with ivy vines that housed the magnificent blue roses. The ribbon roof shielded the guests from the warm Italian sun, beaming over the blessed union. It was quite imaginative shading. The event was more enjoyable for outside weather. Underneath the makeshift roof were tables covered in white linen tablecloths trimmed in yellow and blue. The centerpieces on each were magnificent blue roses sprinkled with yellow flowers and baby’s breath. The roses were what enchanted Mira most.

  Several other guests greeted her politely and Mira smiled in response, trying to remember the introductions that Giovanni had made earlier. She wondered where her prince was. Standing amongst all this beauty, she craved his touch and soft whispers that told of the love they shared.

  Twirling the stem of a rose between her fingers she looked back over her shoulder toward the upper level of the house. Her gaze located him staring at her from the second level balcony. The man named Flavio was at his side. He turned and continued whatever conversation they were having.

  “There you are,” Fabiana said from behind her.

  “You just had to wear that dress.” Mira chuckled.

  “Lorenzo loves me in it.” Fabiana laughed.

  Mira cut her eyes to the heavens. “Whatever.”

  “Speaking of my handsome beau, have you seen him?”

  “Not since you two left. Didn’t you ride back to the house together?”

  “Yes, but he said he wanted to talk to Giovanni.”

  Mira glanced back at the villa. “I guess they’re upstairs.”

  “Wedding was nice.” Fabiana nodded. “She looked beautiful. You did a good job.”

  “Thanks. I spoke to Giovanni about our leaving.”

  “Oh?” Fabiana looked away. “What did the great Don have to say? Did he try convincing you to give him more time?”

  “He’ll come to New York. He and I are going to see each other exclusively. It’s real between us.”

  Fabiana’s gaze swiveled back to her, and she frowned. “Are you saying you’ve decided to date him?”

  Mira chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious? We’ve been here for almost three weeks.”

  When Fabiana didn’t smile, Mira stepped to her concerned. “What is it?”

  “He’s a bit controlling. You don’t like to be controlled. Just want you to be sure of what you are getting into.” Fabiana shrugged.

  “That’s not it. What’s going on with Lorenzo? Did he tell you who attacked him? Are things strained between him and Giovanni?”

  Fabiana smiled at a couple of men who passed them and waited for the men to move out of ear shot. She nodded. “Yes. Giovanni did it. He had it done. Lorenzo disobeyed him, and that’s his version of discipline.”

  “Not true.” Mira said. She wanted to discuss Lorenzo with Giovanni, but he had disappeared for three days. When he returned, she was selfishly consumed with thoughts of her feelings for the man. Still she saw no evidence of Giovanni being a violent man and doubted he did anything to Lorenzo.

  “It is Mira. I’m sorry. I pushed for us to get involved with these men. Now I’m confused about what’s going on with them. What it is we don’t see and know.”

  “I’ll talk to Giovanni.”

  Fabiana shrugged. “And what good will that do?”

  “I’m not stupid. I think I can help. Let me try to talk to him again.”

  Fabiana sighed. “I'd rather you not. It’s best we stay out of it. Agreed?”

  Mira looked back up to the balcony the men had once stood upon and frowned. “Agreed.”

  ****

  “Angelo, benvenuta, thank you for coming. How is Don Calderone?” Giovanni walked off his balcony into the room and greeted Angelo Calderone with a kiss to both cheeks. The man did the same to Flavio. He had been told that Calderone was in attendance and expected the visit.

  “The same. My uncle is sick with grief, but we have faith that we will find Giuseppe.”

  Giovanni clasped his hands together as if in prayer. He wore a sincere look of concern. “If there is anything I can do just ask.”

  “Today is not the day. Today is a day of celebration. Catalina has grown into a beautiful woman. Bellisma! The service was wonderful. I only wanted to extend my congratulations to you both. I brought gifts.”

  Angelo’s men stepped forward with two offerings. The first a cigar box with Giovanni’s favorite imports. The second was a thick envelope padded with money, both of which were accepted by Flavio.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured for Angelo to sit. Giovanni never took his eyes off Angelo. The formalities settled, he fumed inside at the disrespect the bastard had shown by calling a meeting within the Cammora and not including him. “Now, what is the news on Giuseppe?”

  “We have not found the body. My uncle has his hopes, so does my aunt, but I know differently. My cousin is gone.”

  Giovanni lifted the lid of the cedar box and removed a long uncut cigar. He rolled the slender stick between his index finger and thumb. “I hear you had a meeting, recently.”

  Angelo nodded. “I’d already met with you twice. I wanted to reach out to the other families to make them aware of our search, seek their assistance.”

  “And I was not included in this discussion?” Giovanni asked, picking up his cigar cutter and slicing off both ends.

  “It was not to insult you. I assure you. As I said we had met with you twice, and you informed me that you had no idea where my cousin was.”

  Giovanni leaned forward. Angelo Calderone knew better than to openly glare or challenge him in his
home. Still the fucker had an air of arrogance about him that made Giovanni’s trigger finger twitch. “You are to never go to the families in the Cammora without me at the table. I am deeply pained that you would do so and not extend me the invite. But I understand these are trying times for your family. In the future, you’d be wise not to make the same mistake.”

  “Si.” Angelo nodded.

  Lorenzo strolled down the hall in search of Fabiana. He stopped. Silvio Calderone stood outside of Giovanni’s upstairs study. He thought he saw Angelo at the church, but he wasn’t sure. He wiped his hand down his face and knew it best he turn and let the meeting proceed without him. However, his pride and fear wouldn’t allow the sensibility. He approached Silvio. Carlo stepped into view. Lorenzo hadn’t spoken or explained the messy matter of Giuseppe Calderone’s disappearance to his best friend since he was exposed. Now his friend glared at him with open rage.

  “I was told Giovanni wanted me to join them,” he said.

  “Balle. Bullshit,” Carlo spat the word back at him.

  “You calling me a liar?”

  Carlo’s brow arched in response.

  Lorenzo's gaze cut to Silvio, who smirked in silence. To show the divide in their brotherhood wasn’t something characteristically done by Battaglia men. Carlo felt the same sting of embarrassment because he dropped his head and shook it. “Your funeral.” He grunted and turned, walking off. Lorenzo knew he had to make things right with Carlo, Renaldo, Nico and the others. But one crisis at a time.

  Lorenzo opened the door and stepped inside. Giovanni glanced up, and Angelo's head turned. He entered with his gaze trained on Angelo. “Sorry I’m late,” Lorenzo said, he dropped his gaze in Angelo’s direction. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting.”

  Angelo Calderone slowly rose from his chair. He leveled a murderous glare at Lorenzo, but he didn’t speak. In fact no one spoke. Giovanni’s expression didn’t change, but he sensed his cousin was not pleased. So he cleared his throat and made a step toward Angelo Calderone. “Salve.” He extended his hand in a formal greeting. “Any word on your cousin?”

  Angelo’s gaze switched to Giovanni. “Congratulazioni to the Battaglia and Minetti families.” He turned and walked out with his men following. Lorenzo fumed over the insult. When the door closed, he looked to Giovanni to explain his intrusion, but his cousin raised his hand.

  “Was it something I said?” Lorenzo chuckled hollowly.

  “Non importa. It’s done.” Giovanni waved off his comment. “If Angelo had his doubts before, he is certain of your guilt now.”

  “I only wanted to show a united front.” Lorenzo reasoned.

  Flavio shook his head in disgust. “So you come in here with that face? Angelo was here to explain the insult of not including Giovanni in the meeting in Genoa. You interrupted that discussion.”

  “Because we both know he wasn’t here for that, Gio. He was here as a challenge. For the other families to see his brazen boldness at excluding you, accusing me, then coming to Catalina’s wedding. He’s trashing us all along the coast. It is best for us to show them that we aren’t cowering, and my presence means I’m not guilty.”

  “But you are guilty.” Flavio walked around the desk. Giovanni observed them both in silence, the side of his face resting between his thumb and pointer finger. Lorenzo hated the old man. His calm reasoning voice was as toxic as a snake’s bite. He secretly had more control over this family than he and Giovanni combined. Flavio was the problem, not him. “You put a bullet in a man you’ve been hustling with behind the family’s back. You gave us no warning, and now we are on the verge of war.”

  Giovanni sighed. “That’s enough. I’m tired of this game. I want you to find Domi and have him and Carlo go and collect Fish. We aren’t waiting any longer for Angelo to strike, or the Nigerians to destroy what I’ve built with the Irish. We will gut Calderone from the inside out and take Genoa, the triangle, all of it. Lorenzo is right, Flavio. The time for hiding is done.”

  Mira clapped with the other guests as Signora Clara announced the bride and groom’s first dance. Catalina was led to the dance floor on the arm of Franco. Minus her veil she looked like a princess plucked from a storybook. Franco spun her on the dance floor under the tent, and everyone applauded again.

  A man’s arms circled her waist. Mira knew instantly the tender embrace was from her Giovanni and relaxed in his hold. After the song ended, the couple stopped dancing but kissed so sweetly many cheered. “It’s our time now, Bella,” he said into her ear. Confused she looked at him questioningly as he took her hand. He began walking her to the dance floor. Mira’s heart seized with panic. “No, we shouldn’t. It’s Catalina’s moment.”

  “Nonsense,” he said spinning her out in front of him and drawing her back. He held her close. Mira's arms lifted to circle his neck, and she kept her eyes focused on his. Every eye in and outside of the tent strained to see them, watch them

  “People are staring.” Mira said nervously.

  “Let them.” His hand slowly went up and down her back, and he held her closer. Mira sighed and closed her eyes, resting the side of her face against his chest. God, she could get used to this feeling.

  Her hips moved erotically slow against his. They floated across the floor. Others in the family began to join them on the dance floor, and soon they were in the center of swaying couples. All of it felt right.

  Giovanni lifted his face from the inside of her neck and rubbed his lips against hers. She smiled, parting them as his tongue inched inside. It twirled and pushed in deeper. Long after the song ended, they kissed. Until the explosive sounds of applauding broke the trance. Mira looked around to see that the family was clapping for them. She wiped her lipstick from his lips.

  “My turn, Giovanni,” Uncle Rocco said tapping Giovanni on the shoulder.

  Mira’s eyes grew wide. Giovanni laughed softly. “Listen, old man, you be careful where you put your hands. Capisci?” He let her go before she could object.

  Uncle Rocco, barely five foot four, grabbed her in his arms and buried his face in between her breasts, rocking from side to side. Mira, shocked, could do nothing but hold him in return. She rocked with him as other’s snapped pictures. Giovanni stood off to the side with his men. He winked at her.

  Laughter erupted among the crowd when the slow tune turned to a fast paced one, and Rocco began to show Mira his moves. This woman was definitely one he could see a future with. He was certain of it now. He would have to think of a way to delay her leaving for New York until he could take her. Turning from the tent he looked up to see Dominic in the shadows, observing. Giovanni frowned with concern. Dominic approached.

  “We have put in a call to Fish. I should hear from him soon.”

  “You okay?”

  “Si.” Dominic said, his gaze then shifting over to Catalina. Giovanni recognized the hurt and pain in his brother’s eyes. He too felt bitterness over letting her go off into life without his protective influence. She was another man’s wife and as such Giovanni had to see her as a woman, not the little girl that he adored.

  “I understand your feelings, Domi.”

  “Che?” Dominic said.

  “We’re losing her.” Giovanni nodded in the general direction of Catalina. “She’s no longer our girl. A married woman, soon to be a mother possibly.”

  “She looks so beautiful today.” Dominic said. “Like an angel.”

  Giovanni felt his chest swell with pride. “Papa would be proud of her, and Mama too. I want you to stay close to her, make sure she settles into married life. Make sure she doesn’t need anything.”

  Dominic shook his head. “Gio, get someone else for the job.”

  “Why?” Giovanni looked down at him. “What is it?”

  “I’m needed at your side. You’ve elevated my position remember?”

  Giovanni let go a gust of laughter. He smacked Dominic on the back. “Of course. Put someone on it. Just take care of our girl.”

  Dominic’s gaze s
hifted back to a laughing Catalina who was seated on her husband’s lap. She looked up and blew them both a kiss. Dominic sighed and turned to walk away. “I’ll see to it.”

  ****

  After seeing Catalina off with her new husband to their honeymoon in Greece, Mira found herself alone.

  “Ciao Bella,” Giovanni said as his arms slipped around her waist. She relaxed into him and closed her eyes. “Take a walk with me.” She turned in his arms and kissed him. They walked off down the side of the villa along a slender path through flowers and trees. The staff began taking down the festive decorations, and a few family members posed and snapped pictures with each other. The sun had set, and the large full moon hung high in the sky, lighting the path. “These roses are everywhere. So beautiful,” she said, his hand in hers as they walked down the trail.

  “Did you know that seventy percent of the buds are imported from Kenya, Africa?”

  Mira lifted the rose to her nose she became intoxicated by its scent. “Really?”

  “It’s cheaper for breeders to cultivate them there. Actually they pretty much have the market cornered on the blue rose.” he said walking over to her taking the delicate flower from her hand. Mira watched as he snapped the stem, flinching from the destruction of perfection, but understanding when he then placed it behind her right ear.

  “My mother loved roses, but the blue rose was her favorite. Once my father discovered this he made sure they were planted everywhere she lived. Mira listened attentively while he made sure the rose fit perfectly inside of her dark locks. Once done he brought her long tresses forward over her shoulder, looking into her face adoringly.