La Famiglia (25 page)

“More… gim-me!” Eve hit her tray to emphasize her request. Mira fed her some more cereal.

“Okay. You’re right. It’s ours. She has designs of her own, but I’ve sketched out a line and a project plan for
Fabiana’s
. I’m not asking to do the work—”

“So you thought you needed to manipulate me?” Giovanni frowned. “After we discussed this? After everything?”

“It’s just you’ve been really intense about this pregnancy. And I’ve put up with your need to control everything since we had the miscarriage scare. For Christ’s sake I’m watched like a hawk. If you thought I was stressing over this project we’d argue and I didn’t want to fight about this. It’s hard for me to not do what’s in my nature.”

Giovanni dropped back in his chair. He stared at her until he stopped chewing and swallowed. “So you thought you should manipulate me to keep from fighting?” he asked.

Mira looked over to her daughter who drank from her baby cup. “Yes. I am trying to manipulate you. I’m sorry. I should have been honest. Honesty is our vow. And I respect you, Giovanni. I do. Forgive me.”

He smiled.

His smile did not mean he approved. It only validated his point in the argument. Mira waited for his decision. After several long torturous minutes he gave it. “I have no problem with you, Catalina, and Rosetta doing what you dream up for
Fabiana’s
. What I do have a problem with is you keeping secrets, scheming or manipulating me. I won’t put up with it. I accept your apology but the answer is no.” He pushed from the table and walked out. Mira shook her head. She pushed up from the table and walked to the edge of the door to their room. He was at the dresser snatching out clothes.

“You expect honesty from me when you live a life of secrets?” she shouted at him.

He paused.

She had his attention. Mira stepped inside and lowered her voice. “Don’t you stand there and pretend you’ve never tried to manipulate me. Remember I was a woman that ran a multi-million dollar company before I became some shut in, knocked up wife. I’m not stupid, Giovanni. I’m a lot of things but I’m never stupid! And you’re not in as much of control of me as you think you are.”

Once the accusation was made plain between them she refused to retract it. Giovanni often told her half-truths. She accepted it because she loved him—desperately. He had to stop treating her like a possession or she’d suffocate in their marriage. Hell she was suffocating a little every day.

Instead of his typical reaction of anger or bitter accusations he stared at her with genuine hurt. Mira wavered in her anger. Those blue eyes of his could convince her of anything. She could never bear hurting his feelings. But what about hers?

“Don’t be upset with me,” Mira tried to approach him. He blinked out of his stunned tableau. Her husband grabbed his things and went into the bathroom to shower. The conversation was over.

“Mama!” Eve yelled.

She turned away also. “Okay, Eve. Okay. Mama’s coming.”

* B
*

“Aww,
ti desidero.
Come inside, Domi. No one will know.” Catalina pulled on his hand to bring him across the threshold of her bedroom door.

Dominic kissed her nose. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I intend to,” she said.

“No, baby,” Dominic said and drew away from her. “I need to shower and meet with Giovanni. We’ve already crossed the line. Let’s not push it. Eh?”

“Mmm, do you know what the best part of fighting with you is, Domi?” she ran her hand down his chest. His beautiful, brown, heavy lidded eyes made her want to kiss him. Go to her knees and take him in her mouth. Dominic could seduce submission from a nun if he set his mind to it.

“Tell me?” he asked, and his voice had a thick texture to it. She knew he was tempted to be bad. And lord help her but she loved it when Dominic was bad.

“Making up, silly. Last night our fight felt like a release.” She kissed his lips and squeezed his groin. “I released.” She ran her tongue over the seam of his tightly pressed lips. “And then you released.” She bit his chin. “And then I released again. Remember? It was… so good. I love you so much.”

Dominic removed her hand from his dick. Catalina pouted. She brushed the tip of her finger over the tiny silver St. William medallion hanging from the chain around his neck. Dominic never took it off. She enticed his tongue into her mouth and her nipples brushed his chest. Soon he’d break and she’d have him in her shower, between her thighs. 

He grabbed her chin. Her mouth torn from the promise of paradise she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I can’t wait for us to marry. Tonight, meet me back at the beach house,” he said with a smile. He kissed her and then turned left. She had to force herself to close the door. Catalina grinned. It was possible that she could truly have it all. Her career, Domi, and lots of babies! She was determined to see it happen.

“You two look happy.”

Catalina turned and found Rosetta in her room. Her cousin walked out of the bathroom. Again how much Rosetta transformed her look and style to look like her struck Catalina. Same hair color and style, same body shape, even the same tan.

“What the hell are you doing in here? Is that my dress?” Catalina asked.

“I was looking for you. The
Donna
wants to meet with us this morning. She told me to come find you. I guess she has Giovanni’s answer.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is that my dress?” Catalina shouted.

“You don’t mind do you? Versace? It’s beautiful. I saw it in your closet and tried it on. I waited for you last night to ask if I could borrow it but you were gone.” Rosetta smiled sweetly. “All night. Where were you?”

“Take it off! And get the fuck out you psycho!” Catalina marched to her suitcase and opened it for the things she hadn’t had time to unpack. She’d hung up her favorite designer summer dresses so they wouldn’t wrinkle. 

“I said I want to talk to you,” Rosetta stepped closer. “A lot has changed since you’ve been gone.”

Catalina looked over at her cousin. “Really? Doesn’t look like much has changed. You’re still imitating me. Wanting to be me. It’s getting to be a bit creepy. Pathetic.”

“I’m not trying to be you, I’m better than you,” Rosetta tossed back.

“Oh brother.” Catalina sighed.

“I’ve grown,” Rosetta said with an air of confidence. She walked around the room and sat on the chaise near the window. “While you were off being a business woman I was learning from the
Donna
. I can sew now. I can make things, and I also have had a lot of ideas for this new clothing line that the
Donna
is creating under your name.”

“Ha!” Catalina smiled. “So you’re a designer now? After what, four months?”

“You’re a business woman after four months. What’s the difference?” Rosetta tossed back.

“The difference is I’m out there. I’ve been to America,” Catalina said with pride. “I work in the industry and I know how to make things happen. You’ve been sitting at a sewing machine stitching together the
Donna’s
design ideas not your own. So don’t come in here trying to pretend you’re special. While wearing my dress! You are pathetic!”

Rosetta shot to her feet. “That’s your fucking problem, Catalina. You think you’re the only special girl in the family. You always have!” Rosetta sneered. “
La piccoletta
, the little one in the family of the big bad men. Well things have changed. The
Donna
loves me too. And she is going to give me a place in her company. Don’t you dare try to get in my way!”

She marched toward the door. Catalina watched her with a raised brow. “You will never have what I have, Rosetta, unless you steal or copy it.” Catalina smiled. “But be my guest and try.”

Rosetta cast her a sly smile. “We shall see,
piccoletta
. We shall see.”

Catalina rolled her eyes. She’d been dealing with her cousin’s jealousy for years. She could care less. With a dismissive shrug she walked over to her closet to decide what she would wear for the day. She decided to never touch the Versace dress again.

* B
*

Marietta faced the mirror—eye to eye with her reflection. She had worked tirelessly on her makeup and hair. Not in a gaudy fashion. Her lashes were extended and dark liner was evenly smoothed over her lids, which gave her smoldering appeal. She covered her lids with bronze shadow to add a natural look. She curled her hair with her curling irons and picked it out with her fingers. Her roots were frizzy and wavy thanks to life at sea, and it added to her natural curl pattern. She used a white rose plucked from the bouquet the dress shop sent her to pin up one side of her thick locks.

Pierced in her earlobes were the three carat solitaire diamonds Lorenzo bought her in Nice, France. When she turned her head left and right the sparkle was almost as bright as the one dazzling on her ring finger. And lastly she dabbed her lips with pink lipstick and overlaid it with a shimmering gloss. Marietta puckered, shook her locks, and pulled them out with her fingertips. She felt beautiful.

A dash of Shalimar behind her ears and between her breasts was her perfume of choice. She reached in her jewelry box and found her necklace. For a moment she paused and stared down at the gold engraving. This charm, which was once a baby’s bracelet, was the only thing she had from her mother. Wearing it today would make her feel like her real mother was there. Marietta put it around her neck and fastened it with a prideful smile.

“We’re ready,” Carlo beat his fist against the bathroom door. “
Andiamo
!”

She rolled her eyes. “Go away! I’m getting dressed.”

“We can’t wait all day,” Carlo said. “What’s the issue?”

“Oh shut up and go away!” she shouted back at him.

She heard him march off. Marietta would not be rushed. This was her day and for her this was the most important day of her life. She exhaled tension and fear of unworthiness from her lungs. A man like Lorenzo Battaglia didn’t marry just any woman. Hell he was rich, charismatic, and dangerous, therefore his choices had to be calculated and wise. And she knew from the sideways glances he received from women wherever they travelled he could have any woman he wanted. Lorenzo had chosen her for the same reasons she chosen him—love. For the first time in her life she truly felt loved.

Marietta thought of Gemma. If she hadn’t lost touch with Gemma, her godmother could have stood as her bridesmaid today. Though she doubted Gemma would be pleased to see her marrying a Battaglia.

“All done!” Marietta smiled. She sucked in another deep breath and exhaled slowly. Marietta opened the door and sashayed down the narrow hall of the lower deck. They would be married on his yacht. She didn’t care for exchanging her vows at church, and Lorenzo, although Catholic didn’t object. He had set sail a mile away from shore and anchored the boat for the ceremony. The women at the boutique delivered the Mirabella original with flowers she’d chosen for her bouquet and hair. She was all set. But her legs shook with each step she took. And she had to keep her breathing steady when she climbed the steps out to the back starboard of the yacht. Lorenzo wore a tux. Her sweetie looked so handsome. His brows lifted when he saw her. Marietta’s gaze volleyed over to Carlo who was dressed equally handsome. He stared at her in the way he always did. The only person who appeared to have a look of concern was the priest. Her dress had a low bust line and high hemline, which prompted the reaction.

She grinned.

Lorenzo stroked his chin. Mancini’s daughter had bloomed. Marietta was undeniably the most beautiful and complicated woman he’s ever loved. He loved the hard edge to her that didn’t lessen her femininity, but often distracted others from it. Exquisite and fragile she was special. Wispy curls fell around her lovely face, and spiral locks blew about in the wind. The rose in her puffy hair, the dress, and the soft smile on her lush pink lips made him humble, appreciative, and grateful. And the dress she wore was bold and daring just like her.
His Marietta.
She had branded his heart. No other woman except Fabiana could occupy it now.

“
Bellisima!
You take my breath away.
Sei tutto per me—
you are everything to me.” He approached. He lifted her chin. She looked up at him from under her long lashes. “
Sposami
—say you will marry me,” he whispered.

“I will marry you,” she said. “
Sei il grande amore della mia vita—
you are the love of my life,” she said to him.

The happiness in her teary eyes made him a believer. In that moment he knew that his mother was wrong. He too could have a destiny, one different than being second best. He understood what Giovanni found in Mira. Why Dominic risked his life to be with Catalina. She was indeed worth everything they faced in the future. He was marrying a Mancini. And he didn’t give a shit. Marietta was the most special woman he’d ever met.

“Ahem,” said Father Christian.

Lorenzo chuckled. Marietta smiled brighter. He took her by the hand and walked her the few steps over to the priest. The sea was calm and the boat steady. The wind however whipped up around them. Carlo found the priest for the occasion.  A generous donation to his church enticed him to perform the ceremony. The man spoke no English, but luckily he did speak Italian. So they went through their ceremonial exchange of vows fully understanding what their commitment would mean. And he added a last one in English for her understanding.