Authors: Sienna Mynx
Tags: #crime, #drama, #mafia, #ir, #bwwm erotica, #bwwm contemporary romance, #bwwm erotic romance
“
How?”
“
Your pathetic need to find your
long lost mama. My pathetic need to bury secrets Giuseppe and I
shared. He creates this bullshit story of a woman named Isabella.
My own fucking mother’s name and I can’t see it’s a bullshit lie!”
Lorenzo shouted his words at her, overly excited about the
revelation.
“
You’re saying Isabella doesn’t
exist? If that’s true who sent me the note, the tapes? Who sent you
to me?”
“
David Capriccio! He’s been lying
from day one. He knew if you tried to squeeze me I’d do… well what
men like me do. And he also knew I’d back off and chase this ghost
of a person, instead of being focused on him and the finalizing of
the business between us. The
bastardo
played us
both.”
Anger rose in her like a tidal wave. She was
furious over her vulnerability to them all. “That son of a bitch!”
she replied sharply.
Lorenzo sat back, satisfied that he’d solved
the mystery.
“
What about your uncle? My
necklace. If Caruso isn’t my father then…”
“
David believes that Caruso is your
father. That’s my fucking point. Did you ever tell him about the
necklace? Show him what you showed me?”
Marietta frowned. “No.”
“
Exactly! David doesn’t know the
truth. That’s why he won’t allow the paternity test. If Caruso
isn’t your father, then he loses nothing. And Caruso, the sly fuck,
made a bargain with the devil. It’s why he put the stipulation in
his will that you never take a paternity test, to keep you from the
truth.
Cara
, you are chasing who your mother was. But the
answer is, who is your father?”
“
Could it be Mancini? The man
Caruso worked for?” she asked.
The laughter from Lorenzo stung. She almost
smacked him. There was nothing funny about any of this. When he
finally got control of himself, he smiled at her. “Anybody but
Mancini. He’s an old, mean, bitter bastard. A traditionalist. A
descendant from One of the Five Dons of Sicily. He would take
whores, but he’d never take a black one, or even an Italian one.
Hell, he’d never dip his dick in anything that wasn’t Sicilian.
It’s how those men are. It’s why they looked at Tomosino with such
scorn.”
“
But he did leave Sicily. Your
uncle said he went to America.”
Lorenzo’s smile faded. He frowned, as if
looking at her for the first time. “My uncle did say that, didn’t
he?”
“
And he chased us away. Mancini
went to America. Why if he’s such a traditionalist did he go?”
Marietta dropped back. “What difference does it make if he fathered
a black child? Who would care enough to do all of this?”
“
Everyone in his family would care,
especially his son. The smug bitch of a son who thinks his blood is
pure and he’s the king of Palermo. No. No. It can’t be Mancini.”
Lorenzo shifted the car into gear. It revved but he kept his foot
on the brake, not driving off. “First, we focus on David. We do it
my way. My guess is Rocco will call my cousin and make things
difficult for me. We don’t have much time.” Lorenzo lifted her chin
with his finger. He wiped at her tears on her cheek with his thumb.
“Patience,
Cara
. Stay with me.”
“
I don’t want your protection. You
are as dangerous as them.”
Lorenzo smirked. “True, but we understand each
other. Don’t we?” He kissed her. Marietta turned from the kiss and
he drew her face back to his and kissed her again. This time, she
felt herself weaken.
“
We aren’t quitters. Are
we?”
“
No.”
He winked and navigated them back onto the
road. “Let’s go to Milan and get the lady some justice.”
Capri –
Mira wanted to change, freshen up Eve as well.
He had no choice but to concede. He fixed a drink of his thirty-
year- old scotch at the bar. When the phone rang, he didn’t think
much of it. In America, it was well after eleven at night so it
wasn’t Dominic, and the only other people with the number were the
men in the family. Giovanni walked over and picked it up.
“Ciao?”
“
It’s Rocco.”
Giovanni drank down the scotch and set the
glass down for another pour. He balanced the phone between his
shoulder and the side of his face. “Everything okay?”
“
No. Are you aware that Lorenzo is
causing trouble with the Mancinis?”
Frowning, he paused. “What?”
“
He was just here with some black
puttana
, looking to start trouble with Marsuvio. You need to
handle it.”
“
Don’t tell me what to…”
“
Handle it!” Rocco shouted in the
phone and the line disconnected. Giovanni stood there, with the
phone in his hand, trying to understand the call.
“
We’re ready!” Mira said. She had
changed into a yellow dress, with pink high heel shoes and a
matching sweater. Her hair was free and bushy behind a pink scarf,
and the camera was once again around her neck on a thick strap. Eve
wore a yellow dress with a white sweater. She ran straight for him,
throwing her arms around his legs. “Something wrong?” Mira asked,
walking over to him.
Giovanni set the phone back down on the
cradle. He plied his daughter off his legs and lifted her up into
his arms. “No. It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
She smiled and started toward the door.
Giovanni glanced at the phone. The last thing he needed was
bullshit with the Sicilians. What the fuck was Lorenzo up
to?
Chapter Ten
Grotta Azzurra
– Blue Grotto
Warm air, redolent of the salty ocean waves
they glided over, filled her lungs. With the sun on her face and
the wind in her hair, she felt wonderfully alive. The Tyrrhenian
Sea surrounding the green islands made of cliffs and rocky edges,
was beyond anything serenely beautiful she’d ever conjured in her
dreams. For Mira, photography was a big part of her creativity. She
would take images of all kinds of things to tack on her design
boards to draw inspiration from. She zoomed in and snapped repeated
shots of the cascading maroon and pink wildflowers growing at the
cliff’s edge. Their villa was near the Marina Piccola, where they
boarded his yacht. For over an hour, she and her loved ones
ventured on a tour of the limestone ruins of the Imperial Roman
villas. They were stacked along the edge of the cliffs as relics to
a time when pagan gods walked the earth.
After the tour, the black and white yacht
broke through the royal blue ocean waves and sped toward open
waters before completely circling around the bay. Giovanni took the
helm. He brought them to a more secluded area, where clear
turquoise blue-green water offered an un-obstructed view of the
bottom of the ocean. When Mira braved a look over the side, which
wasn’t easy, she could actually see fish swimming around green
seaweed- covered rocks and reefs.
To her delight, she discovered Giovanni not
only knew how to fly planes, play a guitar, and cook the best
homemade pizza she’d ever tasted; he was also an excellent ship
captain. Was there anything her man could not do? Mira joined him
topside in the upper deck. She removed her camera from around her
neck and sat next to her daughter. Eve was in the driver’s seat,
barely able to see out from under the captain’s hat he placed on
her head. He allowed her to steer the wheel when he dropped the
anchor, and urged her on as she took the task of navigation
seriously.
Giovanni was right. The most enchanting sights
of Capri weren’t accessible by land. In fact, he dropped anchor
near a secluded enclave, perfect for swimming or sunbathing, if you
were into that. He said, “Here is where they’d watch the sun set
before they coasted back to dinner.”
“
I love it,” she
confessed.
“
I thought you might. And look at
Eve. You love it too, don’t you
bambina
.”
Eve continued to rock side to side with arms
stretched, and tiny hands gripping the steering wheel.
Mira chuckled. “What’s next?”
“
You and I take a private tour. Let
Rosetta sit with Eve. Did you talk to her?”
“
Rosetta’s a sweet kid. A little
easily distracted, but good with Eve. I’m going to spend more time
with her after the honeymoon. To get her over this competition with
Catalina.”
“
She’s lazy, Bella. If she
disappoints you in any way, you send her ass back to
Melanzana
. Okay?”
Mira dismissed the comment with the wave of
her hand. “I have her under control.”
“
Now, about my tour,” he said with
a smile.
“
I don’t follow? How do we take a
private tour? We’re at sea.”
He lifted their daughter from the seat and she
screamed. She spit out her pacifier and immediately began to cry.
Her fun halted. Mira eased off the chair and followed him below.
Inside, she found Rosetta thumbing through another one of her
magazines as Renaldo and Leo sat off to a corner, engrossed in a
two man card game. They looked up at their arrival and then back to
their cards. Rosetta got to her feet and came over to a crying Eve.
When she took her in her arms Eve settled down, but glared at her
parents.
“
We won’t be long.” Mira promised
their daughter. Giovanni had her hand in his and he led her to the
doors. They had to walk out along the side of the boat and Mira
hated this part most of all. The dank smell of sea water
overwhelmed her. And the bobbing on the waves made her stomach
lurch. But they made it to the back where two men were shouting at
each other in Italian. Mira couldn’t see above Giovanni’s broad
shoulders to understand what the commotion was about. Not until
they arrived at the back of the yacht. A stepladder was lowered. A
boat, a small rowboat, had been detached from the back and dropped
in the water.
“
No! Absolutely not, Giovanni. I
don’t want to get in that thing!”
He took her hand in his and kissed it. “For
me. You’re safe.”
“
No.”
“
Bella, don’t disappoint me. There
is nothing to fear.”
“
I said no dammit!” she
snapped.
He gave her a deep pout. “You break my heart.
Do you think I would ever do anything to put the mother of my
children in harm’s way? Ever?”
Mira heaved a sigh. She threw up her hands in
defeat. “This won’t be fun for me. Hell, the thought of it makes me
sick. Why force me?”
He stepped closer, so his voice was only heard
by her. “You told me why you’re afraid of the water. Every time you
look at a sailboat, the ocean, you think of death.”
The comment threw her. She didn’t equate her
fear and anxiety with death, did she?
Giovanni’s violet blue eyes sparkled under the
glare of the sunlight “I can’t have you afraid of anything, Bella.
You keep me strong.” He touched her face. “You had a bad experience
as a child. It’s a memory. Make a new one with me and I promise
that fear will no longer rule you.” He kissed her brow. “I will
face it with you.” He smiled. “We do this together.”
She rolled her eyes. “I swear you could talk
me into almost anything. You just don’t give up, do
you?”
“
Not on you. Never.”
“
Okay,” she said, her voice shaky
with emotion. “I’ll do it.”
He turned and stepped down to the bobbing
boat. He had to do a small leap in. She watched in disbelief. No
one, not Fabiana or Kei, could ever get her to do this. Ever. He
extended his hand for her. The person to her right offered to
assist. Mira held her breath with each staggered step on the steel
ladder, being extra careful. When her foot landed on the shaky
surface of the rowboat, a startled cry escaped her. Giovanni
however, had a strong hold on her arm and he helped her, not his
men, take a seat. The other man in the boat climbed out. She opened
her eyes to see Giovanni sitting across from her. He winked and
picked up the oars.
“
Just us? They won’t come?” she
asked, alarmed.
“
I have you.” He began to row away.
Mira sucked down several gulps of air. Problem was they each tasted
of the sea. And every bob or wave felt tenfold in the rowboat.
Instead of swallowing a breath, she held it. She did a silent
prayer. Giovanni’s whistling made her peek out of one squinted eye.
He whistled a familiar tune and kept rowing. She smiled, laughed
even. Placing her hands on either side of her, an alien feeling of
calm under these circumstances overwhelmed her. It was a mixture of
distress, fear, and apprehension, soothed by trust. She opened both
her eyes and looked at him for encouragement. He rowed with all his
might. The muscular definition of his arms strained against the
short sleeves of his shirt. Giovanni’s smile lifted the corner of
his mouth. Eventually, the monotonous motion rocking the boat
became less threatening. He whistled. He rowed. Mira gave
in.
Milano –
“
Ciao!”
Carmine said, before
easing into the passenger seat and slamming the door. Lorenzo sped
away from the corner. It was his second stop. His first was to drop
off Marietta at Villa Dici. He told her to not use the phone and
practice patience. The woman had none. When he showed her the
professional kitchen he kept on the lower level, he discovered
another love she had other than challenging him. Cooking. And she
told him she had actually gone to one of the best chef schools in
Chicago for a short time. Lorenzo was impressed. He left her to
fixing whatever she liked to eat. He was too wound tight with
stress to succumb to hunger. He knew it wasn’t easy for her, but
slowly she was beginning to learn to trust him, and he
her.