Amore (72 page)

“No. No. No.” Mira shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. She didn’t believe her own eyes. “God, please.”

“Mirabella?”

She whirled on Kei. He glanced to the television and then to her.

“Did you do this?” she asked. “Did you kill Ciro?”

“Collateral damage.” Kei shrugged. “It’s regrettable. The kid actually had talent.”

“You fucking evil bastard!” She picked up the remote and threw it at him. He ducked as it sailed past his head. When he came for her she ran. She went over the bed on hands and knees to get to the other side. He grabbed her ankle with that iron hand of his, and his steel pointed nails lacerated her skin. She turned and kicked with her free foot, hitting him in the face. That felt good. To fight back felt great. Kei got a hold of both of her feet and dragged her across the sheets. Her dress rolled up to her stomach and revealed she was bottomless. He got on top of her. He forced her thighs apart with his knees. She fought with all her might, but he captured her wrists and pinned them down above her head. She bucked her hips and kicked her legs. He had an erection. She screamed to the top of her lungs. She screamed as loud as she could. And when his tongue traced over her neck to reach her ear, she screamed some more. Nothing worked. She needed a weapon. A gun or something she could plunge into his black nasty heart.

“Let me go!” she moaned.

He kissed the side of her face. He lay on her. His body weight was equal to Giovanni’s. She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe. He began to roll his hips to grind his erection against her.

“Let me go, please!” she begged. She could feel his arousal. The more she struggled the more excited and insistent he became. Whatever held him back, she prayed it would continue to do so until she found a way to escape. “You’re hurting me. I can’t breathe. I won’t run. I won’t. I swear.”

It felt as if he didn’t hear her. He kept rolling his hips and grinding against her. His kisses were now on her breasts. He sucked her nipples through the front of her dress.

“You need something to help you sleep, make you feel relaxed?” he lifted his head and his voice was thick with desire.

“No. No. I don’t, Kei. I am okay. I was in shock. I swear I just—” she bit down on her bottom lip and blinked several times to get rid of her tears. “I was shocked that’s all. Please stop.”

“Do you remember the first time we made love?” he asked.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” she said. If he didn’t move soon she’d choke to death on her own vomit. The thought of him made her sick.

His gaze lowered to her heaving chest. He traced his iron-gloved hand down the front of her face. He used only one hand to hold her wrists. His fingers went to the front of her summer dress. The thin white material barely contained her breasts. He pulled down the front to reveal her left nipple. He lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked.

Mirabella winced. She had to do something. Think of something to stop him. “Yes! I remember! I do!”

He stopped running his tongue over her nipple and looked up. “I remember,” she smiled. She nodded. “We’d been dating two weeks and you came to Parsons to pick me up.”

Kei studied her.

Mira kept fast-talking. “And… and… your driver was going to take us to dinner. We were in the back of your car. Remember? You kept touching my thigh, and, ah, you said you couldn’t wait.”

“You tried to resist me at first,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes. But I wanted it, Kei. I wanted you. I was just afraid to do it with the driver in the car. You know how I was back then. Right?”

“We were on the streets of New York. You were on my lap. So sexy,” he smiled.

Mirabella smiled. “We were so good together in the backseat of that car. I had never known a man like you, Kei. You were so handsome, and so different than me. I’d never met anyone like you. I still haven’t.”

“I loved you, Mira. From the moment I saw you, even down to the moment I lost you.”

“I remember that too!” Mirabella’s smile broadened. He let go of her wrist. She immediately covered her breast and tried to move from under him. He lay on his side and pulled her close to him. “I remember when we first met. Fabiana and I crashed that party. All those hedge fund investors and stockbrokers. She thought if we hooked up with one I could get some financial backing.”

“Ahh… so you were a little minx.”

She laughed. The laughter sounded fake, but he bought it. “You brought me a drink and asked me my name.”

Kei smiled. He nodded his head.

“You didn’t ask for my number. You talked to me a few minutes, complimented me, and then stared at me for the rest of the night from across the room. That was so sexy,” Mirabella said. She eased down her dress and his eyes lowered to her sex. She tried to cover herself naturally so he wouldn’t attack her again.

“I remember what you were wearing. A tight black skirt that made your ass bubble up,” Kei chuckled.

“And the next day I was in my flat that I shared with Fabiana and two other girls. You sent me flowers. How did you find me?” Mirabella asked.

“I had my ways.” He winked.

“You were always resourceful, powerful, caring. I was really intimidated and flattered that you chose me,” she said.

“Why? You’re all those things,” Kei said.

“Only because you helped me evolve. Right?” Mirabella said.

Kei relaxed and smiled at her praising him.

“Let me go, Kei. I’m a mother now. My babies need me. Please.” She reached over and touched his face. “I know I hurt you. I was wrong. I was angry over the lies you told, and then I told lies myself. I’m not innocent, I’m human. Can’t you forgive me? Do you really want to hurt me like this?”

“Does he know?” Kei asked.

Mirabella lowered her hand.

“Does Giovanni know?” he asked.

“Know what?” she frowned.

“Why you choose men like us?” Kei asked. “Does he know about Cedric? Does he know why his wife always wants the darkness in a man?”

She closed her eyes as shame filled her. Cedric found her in New York. She never questioned how Kei dealt with Cedric. She ignored it and pretended Kei’s reaction was normal, because Cedric was hateful and deserving of his wrath. And it was then she understood what the foundation of her relationship with Cedric was based on. In all the years she was with Kei, she was with him out of the need for protection and a nurturer. It’s why she didn’t marry Kei. She never loved him the way she loved Giovanni. She never loved Cedric that way. True love only came from the man who believed in her the way her husband did.

“You say I’m different, but you knew who I was when we met. Didn’t you, Mira?” Kei asked.

“No,” she shook her head.

“You used me to protect you from Cedric,” he said.

“I didn’t. I swear I didn’t,” Mirabella’s eyes began to tear. “You pursued me. Cedric came to New York after we started our relationship. I had no idea he’d find me.”

“You used me to protect you from Giovanni?”

“I was confused. A bomb had gone off in my face. My best friend was dead. I was scared and in so much pain. You were my friend. I didn’t use you! I had no idea who you were!” she said.

“Somewhere deep down inside you knew what I was. Just as you knew what Cedric was when you wanted to turn against your grandfather, and who Giovanni is. Ask yourself, Mirabella. Why did you choose men like us? Why make us love you, and then punish us for being what is in our nature?”

“I don’t. I don’t.”

“You do. You have. You always will, because that’s the price of loving you.” He kissed the side of her mouth, and then her lips. She rolled away from him and hugged herself. She forced his words from her head. He caressed her thigh. Spooned her from behind. Ran his hand over her body as he pleased.

“Let me go,” She cringed.

He turned her to face him. He lifted her chin. “I want you to make love to me.”

“I won’t do it,” she said.

“I want you to give in to me,” Kei said.

“No!” she said.

“I will never let you go, and when Eve comes you will do whatever it takes to make us a family. To keep me happy. To keep Eve safe. Won’t you?”

She opened her eyes and looked into his.

“Right, princess?”

He kissed her lips. Mirabella shoved him off. “Get the fuck off of me!” she slapped him. He chuckled and forced her into his embrace. “Shhh…” he said against her ear. “Too late for tears. You’re mine again,” he said and hugged her.

**

“Rocco, wake up.” Giovanni said.

Zia reached for the lamp and turned it on. “What is it, Gio?”

“Rocco, come with me. Now! Join me downstairs, in the parlor,” Giovanni said.

“It’s okay, Zia. It’s okay,” Rocco said.

Giovanni walked out of the room. At first he wanted to dismiss Armando. He was vulnerable now, and time was precious. He couldn’t waste a minute on chasing a lie. But the more the night dragged on, the harder it was to convince himself otherwise. He waited in the parlor for close to ten minutes before the old man shuffled inside. Giovanni couldn’t sit. He hadn’t eaten or taken a sip of alcohol. He was running on pure adrenaline.

“Who is Isabella Mancini Ricci?” Giovanni asked.

Rocco paused. He looked up at Giovanni with wide-eyed shock. “It couldn’t be her,” he said.

“Armando called. He shared news. He said Isabella was Flavio’s daughter. How the hell did Flavio have a daughter by a Mancini and no one knew about it? And if you did know, why the fuck didn’t you tell me this?”

“Giovanni that’s a dead end. It’s something that happened years ago. It’s irrelevant.”

“What are you keeping from me, old man?” Giovanni seethed.

“Leave it alone, Gio. It has nothing to do with this.”

“I decide what is relevant! I decide!” he shouted. “Tell me. Tell me everything you know.”

Rocco looked to have aged before him. The old man sat down and stared at the curved top of his cane. “My sister Isabella, your aunt.”

“What? Zia Isabella has been dead for over twenty years.” Giovanni said.

“She had a daughter, Lorenzo has a sister.” Rocco said.

It was Giovanni’s turn to be shocked. He tried to make sense of the news. Zia Isabella never spoke of a daughter. She was a bitter woman, and very controlling. In fact no one in the family ever mentioned a daughter. “How? Why weren’t we told?”

“My sister was complicated,” Rocco sighed. “She should have been born a man. She defied her brothers, our mother, anyone. When she was barely seventeen she took a lover.”

“Mancini?” Giovanni asked.

“No.” Rocco wiped his hand down his face. “It was Flavio.”

Giovanni’s brows lowered with concern. “Zia Isabella had an affair with Flavio?”

Rocco nodded. “Do you see why I say this is irrelevant?”

“It is very relevant! Secrets, Zio! Secrets destroy us. Does Lorenzo know?” Giovanni asked.

Rocco shook his head. “Tomosino didn’t know the baby was Flavio’s. Isabella and I were very close. She came to me in a panic. She told me about the baby. I forced her to confess to Tomosino. She refused to name the father. To spare her the shame, and Tomosino’s wrath, Mancini stepped in. He offered up one of his men and labeled him the rapist who impregnated her. We murdered him. The baby was born. She was sent to an orphanage in Lipari, to give the child some hope of a life. Mancini was kind enough to give her his name.”

“Kind? Don Mancini was kind? You want me to believe he sacrificed one of his men for Zia Isabella out of the kindness of his heart?” Giovanni scoffed.

“You’re a godfather. You grant wishes all the time. The debts are to be paid later. Isn’t it always this way, Gio?”

“What happened to her?” Giovanni asked.

“I know when she was older she was actually adopted by the Mancinis. Lived with Armando and his family until she ran off one day. After your zia Isabella died there was no curiosity as to who she became on my part. I forgot about her.”

“You forgot? You made a deal with a Sicilian Don to save this child and my aunt, and then you just forgot?”

“It’s the truth, Gio.” Rocco mumbled.

“Did Zia Isabella ever see the child? Visit it? Anything?”

“Tomosino forced her to marry Lorenzo’s father. She became even more resentful. She carried on the affair with Flavio for many years. Your father didn’t know, but I did. Flavio loved her. I don’t think Flavio ever knew the truth about his daughter. Those secrets are buried with the both of them.”

“Could this be her?” Giovanni asked.

“Why? What is the motive, Gio?”

“Are you dense, old man? Revenge! She was thrown away like garbage. Her father…” Giovanni paused. He had Flavio killed for what happened to Mirabella. That could explain revenge, and why Isabella would help to have his wife taken. “
Santo Maria!
Why wasn’t I told this? Damn it!”

“She’s in her forties. If she is alive she’s either in the Catholic Church, or married with children. She couldn’t possibly have the resources to do this.”’