Destino (9 page)

“How long does this celebration of yours last? I’d like you to join me for a late dinner,” he said.

“No, thank you.”

“You enjoy rejecting me?” he asked amused.

“That surprises you? I think you just threatened me.”

“It’s a first.” He dismissed the comment of his threatening her. If he’d threatened her, she’d know it. She picked up her martini, took a long swallow, and placed the glass back on the table slowly. After a deep inhale of a steady breath, she spoke in that soft voice of hers. “Mr. ah, Signore Battaglia, I understand things are done differently here. I owe you nothing including access to whatever you think is beneath my building. I want you to stay away from my business and me or I will… I’ll contact the authorities.”

Giovanni’s brows lowered.

“I’m serious.”

“I wish you would reconsider. I’m really harmless, until I’m disappointed.”

“It was nice meeting you.
Buona sera
,” she said rising from her seat.

“
Prego.
We’ll meet again Bella, and soon,” he said raising his glass and toasting her.

The harsh uneven rhythm of her breathing made her exit less graceful. Still she straightened her spine and walked from his table without looking back. He didn’t try to conceal who or what he was, and she’d known a few dangerous men. Maybe he wasn’t a mobster but she knew a shady person when she met one. Kei had a checkered past before he became the King of Wall Street. And the men he dealt with in business were more ruthless than any Mafia kingpin. Every now and then she’d meet some former clients of his at a party or social event she accompanied him to, and he’d dismiss the dark sinister leers she’d get from these men. Giovanni Battaglia didn’t leer at her. His stare held more warmth than she knew what to do with. But he had made his wishes clear, and that did piss her off.
Who the hell did he think he was to try to intimidate her?

In spite of her vow not to look back, when she reached the stairs, she gave a parting glance over her shoulder. He was lighting a cigar and exhaled a stream of smoke when his gaze lifted and connected with her. Two men who stared her way as well had joined him at the table. He spoke to one of them, and the man nodded with his eyes locked on her. Mira passed her empty martini glass off to a passing waiter and quickly went down the velvet steps. Fabiana was off to the side of the dance floor with a deep blush to her pale cheeks, and her large green eyes blinking up at Lorenzo. She marched directly to her friend.

“I must borrow my friend for a moment.” She pulled her away gently. Lorenzo nodded.

“Having a good time?” Fabiana grinned.

“Looks like you are.”

“I have some great news—”

“I don’t. We need to get out of here and talk. I just met—”

Fabiana grabbed her by both hands and shook her head hard. “Listen to me first. We’re going to start our vacation by the lake. Lake Como.”

“What?”

“Tonight. We’ll leave tonight and have so much fun. Ready to go? We need to pack.”

“Well… I…”

“C’mon.” Fabiana blew a kiss to Lorenzo and pulled Mira toward the door.

“Wait, I haven’t said a thing to the guests. Shouldn’t I?” Mira asked.

“The party can go on without us. They barely know what they’re celebrating. Let’s get out of here and pack. We have a car to pick us up in an hour.” She could barely object as her friend dragged her out of the club. She tried to explain about Giovanni Battaglia’s demands. Fabiana laughed. Said he’s a businessman trying to cut a deal. She’d handle it. Mira sighed inside of the chauffeured car and figured she’d reserve the sobering questions for when they were sunning at the lake. She’d also give Teddy a call to look into the lease agreement. Gangster or not, Giovanni Battaglia’s request didn’t seem like one she could ignore.

1970 Virginia –

“Me-ma, can I have it? Huh? Can I?”

“What is it baby? Bring it closer so that gran can see.”

Mira hurried, though she’d been told countless times not to run in her grandmother’s sewing room. She dodged a few boxes of clothes out of practice, and chairs stacked with books on different sewing techniques. She would be six in two days and her Me-ma had sewn a new dress for the party. Mira couldn’t hide her excitement. She’d drawn three pictures and prayed really hard for a puppy. God would bring her one. Mira was sure of it. Bouncing on her feet she opened her palm and showed her grandmother the shiny thing she found in a soft black box in the back of the closet.

Her grandmother’s smile dimmed. She didn’t look happy.

“Me-ma?”

“This is yours baby.” Her grandmother nodded. She plucked the gold link bracelet and fastened the clasp around her wrist. It fit. “See here…” Her grandmother turned the gold pate in its center around so she could read it. “It says Mirabella.”

“That’s not my name.”

“It's what your father called you. You can wear it today, and then we’ll take it off and put it back in the box.”

“My father?” Mira’s eyes stretched. She touched the engraving on the gold plate and blinked in wonder. All of her cousins had a father, and a mother. She knew her mother. They had her picture in the living room. She prayed to heaven for her and often visited her grave with her grandparents. But no one told her she had a father. “It’s prrreeeetty.”

Her grandmother pinched her chin and lifted her face. “You are a special little girl. Very special. Never forget that.”

“I won’t Me-ma… I promise. I’m Mirabella!”

The crescent moon against the starless sky cast such a lovely romantic glow across the mountains and sloping hills they drove through. The misty atmosphere rolled across the valley. Mira slouched against the backseat of their chauffeured luxury vehicle with her lids sagging to the point of closing. Every bone in her body had succumbed to exhaustion. The driver said it would be a little over an hour drive into the mountains to reach the lake. She prayed for speed.

“Where are we going again?” Mira yawned.

“To Lake Como,” Fabiana mumbled. She used the tiny light pad on her day planner to cast enough of a glow to review something Mira couldn’t see.

“What about Tuscany?”

“We’ll do that in a few days.”

Mira closed her eyes. “You’ve been rushing me since we left the club. What’s up?”

“Oh stop. I wanted to get you out of Milan before you switched up on me and found an excuse to return to Naples. I called Angelique before we left, and New York is hammered with orders already. The press is climbing the walls to get an exclusive with you. Neiman Marcus wants to get your daywear line in their stores by August. Even the Prime Minister is inquiring. See here?” She turned the planner to show a calendar with the meetings and events planned for next month. “He’s invited you to a charity dinner. Now be honest. If you found out any of this, you would have called off our vacation.”

Once again her friend had her nailed to the wall. Mira smiled and relaxed. “It was a success, wasn’t it?”

“Of course. It’s time to celebrate. Reap what we sewed, pun intended,” Fabiana smoothed her hand out across the plush peanut butter leather interior. “It's like we’re floating instead of driving down the street, to paradise. I love this car. Hell I love our life. Don’t get me wrong I’m a New Yorker, but I can really see Italia as home. You know?”

“You like him, huh?” Mira asked.

A sheepish smirk crossed Fabiana’s glossed lips. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I saw you with him. When we got back to the hotel you were on the phone. Don’t think because you’re speaking Italian I can’t tell. I saw you. My guess is he’s coming to meet you in Como isn’t he?”

“Close.”

“Close?”

“We’re going to his place.”

“You have got to be kidding me!”

“What? I told you the other day he had extended an invitation for us to visit his vacation home. You seem fine with it.”

“Driver! Stop the car!”

Fabiana let go a gust of laughter. Mira had to suppress the urge to join her. She was half-serious.

“All joking aside, if you will stop and listen to me I have something to tell you. Giovanni Battaglia propositioned me. I think he threatened me too.”

“When did this happen?”

“At the club.”

“How? How did he threaten you?”

“He didn’t exactly, he implied I had to give him access to our building and pay him for his inconvenience. He was rude about it.”

“Oh, Mira. They aren’t in the Mafia. Damn I wish I had never mentioned the
Cammora
to you. The villa Lorenzo owns is in Bellagio. It’s a beautiful lake city in Como. They call it the ‘Pearl of the Lake’. I want us to really start again here. Enjoy everything Italia has to offer. Giovanni Battaglia helped us cut through some red tape. He knows how successful you are. He’s working through the political landscape of Napoli to clean up the city’s reputation and draw more foreign investors, I think. I’m sure I read it in the papers. He’s trying to align with us, and that’s to be expected. But he’s not a threat.”

Mira couldn’t shake the uneasy dread filling her. “Fine. I sound like a broken record.”

Sighing deeply Fabiana looked away to conceal her smile. “No. You sound like my best friend. The cautious wise one. I’m the impulsive wild one. We balance each other out.”

Mira burst into disbelieving laughter. “Please Fabiana. When it comes to business you’re a shark with lipstick. No one takes advantage of you. I want you to be the same way about your heart.” Mira reached over and took her hand. “We’re a team. We’re sisters. We look out for each other.”

Fabiana nodded. “Thank you for being the sister I always wished I had.”

“Promise we’ll keep it light, and you won’t be too impulsive this weekend,” Mira said under a raised brow.

She smiled in defeat. “I promise that Lorenzo Álvaro Battaglia will have to part the red sea before he parts my legs.”

Mira laughed leaning over to hug her friend. “Good enough.”

On the lower level of his cousin’s villa there were few doors and many open walkways that led to the outside veranda with a stunning view of the lake. The lonely rustle of the night breeze echoed softly. Giovanni stared out across the lake at the villas and hotels. When darkness covered the small city of Bellagio, the golden amber lights from residential windows and street lamps almost made the city and the lake appear mystical. Under a crescent moon the water shone like polished glass. He clasped his hands behind his back The violence was the least of his worries. The fact that a man like Francesco could disrespect him under his cousin’s watch unsettled him.

“Shall we discuss it now or later?” Lorenzo asked.

Giovanni cast his gaze back over his shoulder. “My decision is final. Arranging all of this won’t change my mind. The club closes. Carlo will see to it. The insurance on the place should more than compensate you after all debts are repaid to me of course.”

“You think I invited the ladies here to appease you? I invited them and you here so we can get past our differences and understand each other again. I know
Isabella’s
was my idea. I had no idea Francesco was the monster he turned out to be. It doesn’t convict me. Ignorance is my only sin here.”

Weary of the argument Giovanni turned and faced his cousin. Lorenzo understood him better than any of those in the family, next to Catalina. They were raised together, blood. However, his cousin wouldn’t be above arranging a romantic interlude to soften him for manipulation. What irritated him more after all these years was his cousin’s continued struggle for recognition. They were supposed to be stronger than this petty jealousy bullshit.

“You failed.”

Lorenzo threw up both his hands in defeat. “The family cannot survive like this. It’s bigger than the grudge we hold with the Russians for Papa’s death. Or the Albanians! You control
la Cammora
. Which means the girls, the business; all of it should belong to us. You can’t have part of it; you have to own it all.”

“We are not this bullshit!” Giovanni shouted. “Not anymore. Two hundred years ago we changed our fucking name to decide the family destiny. Baldamenti and the blood legacy that’s washed through our family for two centuries is over. We are Battaglia men.” Giovanni stepped closer. “Why do you think this was done? So we never evolve? Continue to wallow in scum? Become the men not fit to sit at the table with our ancestors? Can you only find glory in the slums with those gypsies you let in and out of our business? Or are you planning something else cousin? With Calderone?”

“Never.”

“I know you aren’t totally blameless. If I could prove your motives, well you should be grateful I haven’t proven what motivates you lately cousin.”

“
La Cammora
is fracturing. The Calderone family plans to make deals with the Albanians that you won’t, and they are growing in numbers. In Sicily, we’re tied to tradition within
mafioso
, but here we can do things differently. That’s why Papa Tomosino loved it best here. I know you have another vision for us, and I respect it, but I would fail you if I didn’t advise you. The time to strike is now. Now.” Giovanni shook his head in disappointment. Lorenzo continued. “You desire to legitimize us, and it’s a lofty dream. No one would dare speak to you like this but me. Flavio is Consigliere, and where is he? Listen to me, Giovanni, gambling, extortion, weapons, it’s who we are no matter what deals you and Flavio make in the Republic. Nothing changes that fact. Why not go after the real money?”