by Mynx, Sienna
“Grazie.”
Dominic nodded to Giovanni and walked the doctor out. Giovanni stared at the pill bottle in his hand. After minutes of guilt and grief, he gave in to his desperation to see her. He left his outside villa and entered the house from the back once more to not be seen. As the doctor stated, she rested under blankets. His aunts were by her bed. One read from the bible to her.
“Leave,” he said.
The women rose and one by one they came to him offering kisses of encouragement before granting his wish and leaving him with her. Giovanni closed and locked the door. He stepped out of his loafers and walked over to the bed. Easing under the covers with her gently he drew her into his arms and held her against his chest. Her screams and terror overwhelmed him with guilt. He held her tighter than he should and her limp response tore at his gut, burned away his pride. He felt himself on the verge of a meltdown. He came close, too close, to losing this woman. If he had any doubts before they were now gone, she belonged in his heart.
The tears didn’t come, but the self-loathing and doubt did. He needed to make this right, restore order, win her trust and love and keep it. How the hell could he do it all in succession?
****
Two hours later
Mira opened her eyes. She now laid on her side with Giovanni’s arm draped across her middle and his warm body nearly covering her from behind. She felt so small and helpless in his hold. To move would wake him and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to face him or hear his apologies. She didn’t want to listen to him explain how he would make this up to her. What she wanted was her friend.
Unable to cry anymore she remained still looking toward the wall. She could hear Fabiana’s pleas for forgiveness and the bitter refusal she gave her. If she had listened, forgiven, then Fabiana would have left the car too and they would have walked out of Italy together. Her stomach cramped from the unyielding churn of her grief. She should have never gotten involved with a violent man like him. Now, no matter how she felt for him, they would always have Fabiana’s death between them.
The cramping became worse. It wasn’t grief. It was whatever poison they gave her to make her submit. She shifted in his arms, and he sat upright.
“Bella?”
“Don’t call me that,” her voice croaked hoarsely.
“Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”
She pressed her quivering lips together and squeezed her eyes shut to block the sound of his voice from her head and heart.
“Cara, my beautiful cara. Please. Talk to me.”
Opening her eyes she turned. Giovanni only loosened his hold enough for her to turn and look into his face. “Let me go. I want to… to go.”
“No.” He dropped his forehead to hers.
Mira wept and he kissed her tears.
“What do you want from me Giovanni? You’ve taken my heart!”
“Don’t push me away.”
“I can’t be here, anymore!” She moaned.
“You can if you trust me.”
“She’s dead. Do you understand that I lost the only family I have today? She’s my best friend, my only friend, she’s dead!”
“I understand.”
“Then help me. Let me go back to America! I won’t tell anybody what I know. I swear it.”
He lifted and stared down at her with a hard, inquisitive look that made her stomach muscles quiver.
“What is it you think you know, Bella? You called me a murderer. Why?”
She shoved at him and rolled away from him. She cried into her pillow. When he touched her back, she shivered and his hand drew away.
He hated the sounds of her tears, and no matter how desperate he felt he couldn’t comfort her. Giovanni sat up. “I’m not leaving you, Mira, and you’re not leaving me.”
“Go away!” she shouted. He pulled her back over, pinning her to him so she couldn’t run from him. “Cry Bella, scream and shout. You should be angry and I promise you the people who hurt Fabiana will pay for what they robbed you of.” He kissed her eyelids until they closed.
Mira turned her face away. “Pay? What the hell does that mean! You’re going to murder somebody too!”
“Too? Murder? That is the second time you call me a murderer. I did not want the death of your friend!”
“Don’t pretend you aren’t a murderer! Lorenzo is a murderer! I know all about it. It’s why Fabiana died isn’t it? Because of murder!”
Giovanni couldn’t capture a breath to speak. “What was it you and Fabiana discussed? Why were you arguing?”
“Let me go!”
“Bella answer me. What do you think you know?”
“That you don’t love me, you only wanted to use me to get to whatever you needed from my building. That Lorenzo murdered a man named Giuseppe and asked Fabiana to help him cover it up. She was scared. It was the only way she agreed to do what he wanted, what you wanted. You manipulated us both and now my friend is DEAD! Murderer!”
He let her go. She turned away from him again crying hard into her pillow. Stunned he couldn’t bring himself to comfort her. He rose from the bed and walked out.
****
“You did well.” Flavio said to Dominic breaking his train of thoughts.
“Giovanni did not want this meeting. He won’t be happy.”
“A face to face with Don di Petro was necessary. Giovanni is currently distracted by that woman.”
“We have to worry about the press now. How we tell the story of this American woman’s death. We’ve bought some time with talk of peace.”
“It was just talk.” Dominic scoffed. “Right now Lorenzo and Carlo are on their way to Bellagio to dig up Giuseppe Calderone.”
Flavio smirked. “Let them. There will be no war. We can say Lorenzo acted outside of the family, which he has, many times before. When the Calderone’s come for his head, they will have it.”
Dominic frowned, “Giovanni would never allow it. Neither would I. He’s our brother!”
“He’s a fuck up. Imbroglione! He will destroy this family. It is up to us to make sure he does not.”
“I won’t betray Gio and Lorenzo.”
Flavio sighed in the back of the limo. “That’s not what I’m saying. If we bring Giovanni peace and the triangle on a silver platter he will see that war is too costly. Lorenzo’s fate is his own. He acts outside of the family then he must survive the same way. It’s how it’s done. He took an oath and pissed on it when he went behind Giovanni’s back to deal in business with Giuseppe Calderone.”
“Being consigliere doesn’t make you boss, Flavio. Giovanni is the boss of this family, and I would think you should remember that.”
Flavio gave a half smile and continued to look straight ahead as they rocked in the back of the limo. “I don’t want to be boss. My job is tougher than his. And yes it’s unfortunate that the Fabiana woman died. It will be messy to handle with the authorities. That is the price we pay for the life we choose.” Flavio said hollowly. “You would be wise to remember everything you’ve seen today. Love is a luxury that men like ourselves can’t afford. It makes you weak.”
“Bullshit, how are we to have sons if we don’t have women.”
Flavio chuckled. “By all means take a bride. I love pussy too. Just never love her more than you love the family. Even Lo understands this. Do you think he gives a shit that the red-haired woman is dead, or is he angrier over the insult? Giovanni, is too much like his father, his downfall will be the love of a woman. Tomosino fell for a red-haired Irish woman that had no place in our world. And his son?” Flavio scoffed in disgust. “That woman should have never been brought here.”
Dominic fully understood the reasoning Flavio used and it was one of the reasons why he let Catalina go. She was in his heart, a part of his soul, but their love was forbidden. Blood or not she was his surrogate sister, and the lines they crossed would stain his soul. He could go forward without another love. Falling for Catalina had made him weak. Had cost her her inn
ocence and robbed her new husband the right to be her first lover. His shame burned deep. Men like them were not to be in love.
“The Nigerians. Giovanni thinks we’re arranging the meeting. We are. We have. I’ve set it up for a small inn near Mt. Vesuvius. You will accompany him.”
“Where will you be?” Dominic asked.
Flavio didn’t answer. Dominic didn’t question him further.
****
Mira listened to him shower. He had returned only ten minutes after she hurled the must hurtful accusations at him. And the worst of it was he denied nothing. She glanced over to the food he had brought up. A plate stacked with leftovers from the wedding, including cakes and pies. She cut her gaze away. Her heart ached. It was a physical pain that left her weak and disoriented. When he walked out of the shower, he seemed surprised to see her sitting up.
He had changed clothes. Was he leaving? Good. Go. She didn’t need him. Still her heart raced at warp speed over the thought of being left alone.
“I won’t be gone long,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “One meeting and I’ll be here, with you.”
She eased the covers aside, and stood with her hands clenched into fists. “Go. Go and never come back!”
A slow smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “You’re feeling better. Giving me orders.”
She charged at him, flew across the room. He watched her and caught her arms by the wrists. She struggled to break loose, but he held her with little effort, staring down at her. Finally she gave up the struggle and she was able to snatch her wrists free. She glared. Standing on her own two feet she swayed a bit but the nausea passed.
“Lie down. Eat. Gather your strength, and then we will talk.”
She opened her mouth to insult him again, but the soft look of love and concern stalled her thoughts. Defeated, she heaved a sigh. Her gaze again switched to the tray of food. Her stomach clenched with hunger, and her mouth watered. He started to button his shirt, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. Even when she looked away, she felt the heat in his stare. He had no intentions of letting her go, and it dawned on her she had nothing to go to. Her condo in New York was one she shared with Fabiana. To return there alone would be devastating. And Italy had not yet become home. Odd as it sounded this room, his bed, all of it felt like home. Her gaze lifted and she took a step back, but his touch to the side of her face stopped her retreat.
“You are feeling better. Aren’t you? Shall we talk now?”
She nodded.
“I love you,” he said. She shook her head in disbelief, but the words didn’t come. He smiled and kissed her gently on the lips. “I never lied to you about my feelings.”
“Why… why did you use us? Bring us here?”
He sighed. “I was weak. I didn’t want to let you go. I should have in Bellagio, but I couldn’t.”
“I was weak too. I knew what you were, what you did. Fabiana and I both knew. I shouldn’t have trusted this thing with us. I just… I couldn’t help it.”
“We are the same. Weak. Lovers. Friends?” He nodded.
She went over to him stiffly and his arms opened naturally to welcome her. She held to him. Despite it all, she loved him, needed him. His embrace felt as if she was cradled in his arms. It covered her with warmth and security. She would believe the lies if she could just hold on to this feeling. Finally, since the nightmare began, she felt as if she could breathe. They didn’t speak. There were no words. She just needed to feel that what they shared wasn’t going to evaporate, too.
He stroked her back.
She rubbed the side of her face against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and held her.
“Please forgive me, Bella. Can you try?”
She nodded that she would. Her head went back, and she managed to look him in the eye.
He kissed her brow. “Flavio will be here to see after you. I promise not to be long. I swear it. And then I will take you from here.”
“She’s dead… Don’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.”
He lifted her in his arms, and she held to his neck. He walked away from the bed to the large sofa chair and lowered into it awkwardly while holding her. Mira curled up on his lap. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled the strong woodsy cologne on his skin and felt safe in his strong arms. She’d never been so afraid of herself and someone else in her life. When she was with him, she was weak. She should blame him, try to escape him, but now all she wanted was for him to remain with her. “I don’t know if I can ever leave this room, without you, I can’t take it. Life without her, I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”
He didn’t answer. They sat in silence for a long comfortable time. He just held her and protected her. Soon the drugs in her system made the lethargy return. Her head felt heavy. She felt as if she was weightless and knew he was returning her to bed.
“Don’t…. go. No more. Don’t do it.”
“Rest. I’m not what you think I am. I promise to come back.”
“Don’t!” she grabbed his arm and clawed at him trying to hook her hand around his neck to bring him down in bed with her. “Don’t! They’ll kill you too. That’s what they want right? To kill us all? Right? It’s how it works.”
“Bella…”
“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” she beat her fist against his chest. He pinned her down to the bed. She screamed out of frustration. He had no choice but to come into bed with her. To bring her into his arms and hold her. She relaxed and settled into his embrace. Tears streamed but the panic in her chest lessened.
“Stay,” she said as she began to drift.
“I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
The last of her strength slipped and she eased back into sleep.
****
Mira woke from a touch to her shoulder. “Giovanni?”
Confused she blinked twice to see the face clearly. Flavio stood over her bed. His face was stern, almost a scowl. His grey eyes were polarizing. Surprised, she scooted away drawing the sheet up close to her.
“Signorina, you will need to get dressed. Now.”
“Why are you in here? Get out.”
“I have unfortunate news.”
“Is it Giovanni?” She sat upright. “Is he hurt?”
“He sent me. You have to leave. You aren’t safe here.”
“What? He said he wouldn’t leave me. Where is he?”
“Gone. You must get dressed while you still can. Take what you can, and we will send your things. There is a plane waiting for you in Napoli.”
“You’re a damn liar!! He wouldn’t break up with me through you! Not after my friend died today, not after… everything. He wouldn’t!” she shouted at him.
Flavio yanked the coverlet off her, and she swung and hit him in his face with her fist. The rage in his eyes made her quickly scoot away, almost scramble. She got out on the other side of the bed ready to defend herself if it came to it.
He sneered at her. “Puttana! He doesn’t care for you or that tramp who died today. You put on clothes and be ready to leave now or I’ll drag you out of here as you are.”
“NO! Giovanni!” Mira ran for the door. Flavio had to have anticipated her actions because he caught her and dragged her back from it. The door opened and a young man looked in, shocked. Flavio shouted something to him in Italian, and the young man closed the door. He then grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the shut door. Mira blinked from the force of his actions and the dull ache that cut through her skull.
“Listen to me. Run, scream, make this difficult in any way and I will shut you up. Permanently!”
Mira shook her head sadly at him. Flavio let her go, and she gasped for air, moving quickly out his reach, her hand to her throat. He yanked open the door and stormed out of the room. Putting her hands to her face, she cried once more.
****
The caravan of cars that moved along the country road began to slow down as all the vehicles one by one exting
uished their lights. Giovanni clenched and unclenched his fist staring out into the night. His heart hammered in his chest, his throat felt dry as sandpaper, and his eyes watered from the constant strain of not-blinking. “Where are the Nigerians?” he asked.
“They will be here.” Dominic ended the call. “We just need to wait.”
“And Don di Petro’s men?” Giovanni’s gaze swept the forested trees. The single road that drove up to the inn was free of cars. If the Don had sent his men they would be on foot, in the dark, and ready with his men.
“They’re out there.” He ended the phone call he was on and set the receiver back in the phone box situated in the middle of a leather console between the men. “Carlo confirms that Giuseppe’s rotting corpse was delivered to the Don’s wife.”
“Bene.” Still Giovanni couldn’t relax. He needed to get back to his Bella, to be there when she woke again. He remembered her holding him, how she pleaded for him not to go. Right now she was confused, the dottore said it was shock. Giovanni knew it was far worse. He suffered the same grief after watching his father gunned down in front of him. That kind of pain changes a person. He would do everything in his power to take the pain and fear from his Bella’s heart.
“Gio, there’s something you should know.”
“What is it?” he mumbled, and continued to stare out of the window.
“While you were tending to your woman, Flavio and I paid Don di Petro a visit on your behalf.”
Giovanni’s gaze swung to Dominic. “I said there would be no meeting. I made a call to the Don.”
“And we paid a visit to ensure that he would adhere to your request. In exchange we vowed there would be no war between the Cammora and Ndgrangheta.”
Dominic now commanded Giovanni’s undivided attention. He specifically gave an order. Why would his consigliere and under boss both defy it so openly? “Are you saying you went against my wishes?”
Dominic nodded. “Flavio is convinced that peace is the best way and that you are distracted. He also believes it’s because of your woman, the American.”
