La Sposa (39 page)

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Authors: Sienna Mynx

Tags: #crime, #drama, #mafia, #ir, #bwwm erotica, #bwwm contemporary romance, #bwwm erotic romance

BOOK: La Sposa
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How long have you been in Milano?”
Lorenzo asked.


A few hours, got here ahead of you
by train,” Carmine said.

The grip Lorenzo had on the steering wheel
tightened. He had half a mind to hunt down Capriccio and blow his
fucking skull off his shoulders. But that would be stupid. He’d
still have the problem of finding the original photos and master
tapes. He needed to be smart.


What’s the job, Boss? What do you
need me to do?”


I want you to be David Capriccio’s
shadow. Follow him. Keep an eye on him for the next day or two, and
check in with me on his moves. I’m looking for his hiding place.
The one he goes to when he wants to get away from all others. Track
every person he meets with.”

Carmine nodded. “Anything you say. I have a
few friends here. I can stay with them while I keep an eye on him.
Where do I reach you? If I have anything to say.”


Check in after ten at Villa
Dici.”

It was the place he bought two years ago after
he lost his club. He wanted to turn it into another gambling house,
but instead, made it into one of the nicer villas that he leased
out to traveling tourists. Carmine nodded that he understood his
orders. Carlo was right about the kid. He was obedient, smart, and
trustworthy. If he helped him with Capriccio, Lorenzo would
consider giving him more responsibility.

 

 

Grotta Azzurra –

 

Mira looked up at the sun, it burned bright in
the sky. On the yacht, its warmth was comforting. Now, in the
rowboat, she felt closer to the ocean wind and a bit chilled.
Giovanni continued to row toward a destination she couldn’t
discern. He was right, with him her fears lessened. But she doubted
a row in a boat had cured her.


Behind you,” said
Giovanni.

Mira looked back. There was a small opening at
a wall of rocks, which stretched up to a cliff at least forty feet
high.


What is it? A cave?”


Grotta Azzurra
, what
everyone calls the Blue Grotto. It’s off season so we have it to
ourselves.”


Wait? We’re going in that? The
opening is too small. I don’t think the boat will fit. No. No. We
won’t get through that opening.”

Giovanni chuckled. “We will. You need to lie
back, flat, when I tell you to. The current will take us through.
Two, three minutes and we are in. I promise.”


Why? I…”


As soon as we cross over to the
grotto, you will understand why. This cave was so sacred that the
Emperor Tiberius used it for his baths. The Pope baptized priests
here. I believe God has visited many times.” Giovanni looked up at
the sky. “The beauty inside is as close to heaven as you will see
here on earth. You will feel closer to him when we go through. He
sends the sun into the grotto in such a way it overwhelms. Now. Are
you ready to be changed forever?” he said, rowing closer to the
entrance.

Love and excitement swelled so tight in her
chest, she struggled to breathe. Exhaling slowly, she blinked at
him and nodded.


Lay back, Bella. Flat.”

Mira did as he told her and she soon
understood why. He was forced to his back. He allowed the current
to bring them in under the rocky entrance deeper through the
cavern. She could feel the rowboat bobbing wildly for a brief two
minutes as they pushed through. She squeezed her eyes shut,
remembering how easily small boats like this one could flip over.
If she died, who would raise Eve? It would be around the same age
she believed her mother died and left her an orphan. Why these
fears rushed to the surface at that moment she didn’t know. But
Mira was tight all over with fear.


Now. Look. Open your eyes.
Look!”

Mira slowly complied. First, darkness consumed
her. Cave black darkness. Then something magnificent glowed about
her. She realized the glow was coming from the water. She sat up to
the most wonderful vision. The waters beneath their boat were a
neon; almost electric blue, but as clear as ice. She dared to look
over the side of the boat into the luminance and could see the
white sands glistening below. Above her and around her, was
descending darkness. The contrast was so startling she kept
blinking, trying to register it all.

Giovanni began to whistle. The lovely tune
echoed back down to him, as if another was there, keeping in
harmony. He whistled louder and the echo doubled, tripled, and she
couldn’t believe it.


Sing,” he said.


What?”


Sing. Don’t say you can’t. You
sing to Eve when you put her to sleep. Sing for me,” he
said

Mira recalled how sweet and lovely his
serenade was for her on the eve of their wedding. She nodded and
began to sing. The first song that popped in her head was a gospel
one. Maybe it was her surroundings, or her love for him, but she
felt closer to God. And her voice carried all around them. The
echoes sounded like a chorus. No, they reminded her of a symphony.
Giovanni seemed pleased. The song she sang was the one she sang for
her grandmother when she buried her first, and then her
grandfather, when she had to bury him two years later

Giovanni closed his eyes.

She closed her eyes and sang of the sparrow,
and how she knew God watches over her.

Once done, she opened her eyes. And through
their drift, they became aglow with the electric blue surface of
the water. She laughed and sang louder and the high octaves floated
back down to her. “I can’t believe this place. It’s
amazing.”


Let me teach you to swim?” he
asked.

The request threw her. She felt her heart pace
accelerate and she forced down her anxiety when she answered, her
smile fading. “Here?”


No. Not here. These caves are
sacred. We respect them. I want you to see something different
about water. I want you to be less afraid, Bella. Strong for us
both. No fear.”


No fear.” She agreed. “You really
do make me stronger.”


Promise me, that you will try.
You’ll let me teach you how to be less afraid of losing
control.”

She nodded. “I’ll try.”

Giovanni fastened the oars to the sides of the
boat. He then slumped down off the bench to sit at the bottom.
“Come.”

She carefully moved toward him, turning to
rest her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and
they continued to drift. It was as if they were floating in the
sky, the waters were so calm. He kissed the side of her head. “Are
you okay?” he asked.


I’m wonderful.”

 

 

Later –

 

Dinner was nice. The restaurant he took her
and Eve to had a very homey island feel. The family who owned it
welcomed them, as if they were feeding them out of their own
kitchen. The matriarch of the business, who was called Mother,
brought out her recipe book to Mira and shared some of her favorite
dishes. Mira laughed with Giovanni so much over dinner, as they
talked about any and everything. She ate so much pasta, she felt as
if her stomach stretched the front and sides of her
dress.

Today with him, she discovered a sense of
freedom, security, and direction. Giovanni admired her strength,
her independence; he said it’s why he pursued her. He accepted her
weakness but he didn’t let her settle for any emotionally crippling
behavior. Over dinner, he shared that as the mother of his children
she would have to protect his babies when he couldn’t be there.
What if they got in the pool and he wasn’t around, or fell off a
boat as she once did as a child? She needed to know how to swim.
Then he dropped a bomb on her as he fed her calamari and Eve ate
from his plate. He would teach her how to load and handle a
gun.

Stunned, she didn’t know how to respond. He
carried on as if he was talking about teaching her to drive a car.
He fed Eve, laughing and sharing tales of how he fired his first
gun at the age of seven with the help of his father.
Shoot a
gun? She would learn to handle a weapon?
Mira struggled with
the prospect of violence.

She had thought the night would end in their
villa overlooking the bay. They’d make love, and sleep off the
hearty meal. He, of course, had other plans. Together they set sail
once more, into the night.

While down in the lower deck with Eve and
Rosetta, she drifted to sleep. Giovanni remained topside with the
men. But she woke to darkness and a perpetual feeling of drifting.
Eve had curled up in her arms and was resting peacefully. Rosetta
was gone. Mira rose from her lounge chair confused. She took Eve to
a room to the back and placed her on the bed. She set her up
carefully and kept the door open. She doubted she’d wake. And she
wouldn’t go far.

Returning to the lounge area, she looked
around at the empty quietness. She walked over to the stairs and
climbed them to the middle deck. The strong burn of his cigar
greeted her. Inside the darkness, she could see the amber-orange
flame incinerate the tobacco tip. However, his face remained
covered in smoky shadows. “Where is everyone?”


I sent them back. I thought we’d
stay here tonight. Alone. Together.”


The three of us?” Mira looked
around.

Giovanni didn’t answer. His silence drew her
attention back to him. “Something wrong?”


Come here.” He put out his cigar.
She walked over to him and was drawn down to his lap. She sat there
comfortably. “There’s something I need. Something I’m not sure you
won’t question,” he said.

Mira looked down into his face. Dark solemn
eyes stared back. The blue swirls in his irises reminded her of the
majestic waters of the grotto. She touched his face. “What is
it?”


Our son.” He placed his hand to
her stomach. “I want him born in Sicily.”

Surprised, she didn’t have time to cover her
frown. “You do? Can I ask why?”


He’s the best of me. I know it’s a
boy,” he said in a tightly controlled voice. “My son will know
where he came from. He won’t grow up to hate or resent me. He will
never feel like less than a man because of his mixed
heritage.”


Giovanni? Why even make that
comparison?”


I want him born where all the men
of my family were.” His gaze flipped back to her face from her
tummy. “He’s Sicilian first.”

The comment threw her. Their children were
many ethnicities. Hell, she barely knew her own lineage. Her
grandmother told her that they had roots all the way back to
Angola, Africa. And he was half- Irish. Admittedly, she was shocked
when she gave birth to a brown baby with blue eyes. Everyone stared
at the beauty of Eve, and not all of the looks her daughter got
were pleasant ones. She had made up her mind to raise her, mindful
of her black heritage. But she was willing to include all of her
heritage, not favor a particular one.

Now he wanted her to say his son would be
Sicilian? If he wanted Sicilian progeny, why marry a black woman?
It made no sense. She leaned in to kiss away his sour mood. Her
lips pressed softly to his and he didn’t respond. Something
troubled him, and he wouldn’t divulge it easily. She dropped her
forehead against his. “I haven’t found a doctor yet. The brief
visit we had in Sorrento was just the first. After our honeymoon,
we’ll have regular visits and a personal doctor. How do we do this
Sicily thing?”

Giovanni nodded, as if he thought it all
through. “I have a place in Mondello Beach. It’s beautiful. It’s
where my mother stayed when she was pregnant with me. We’ll visit.
It’s a good place for Eve too. I will make sure you get a referral
and everything you need.”

The comparison to where his mother was forced
to stay by his father to where she’d spend her days before giving
birth, reminded her of the choices they’d made when she had Eve.
She wanted different memories this time around. If they have a son,
her wishes would be just like all mothers’ wishes were, including
his. She’d want him to grow up to become a doctor or lawyer,
anything but a mafia boss like his father. These thoughts and fears
were ones she kept to herself. One look into her husband’s eyes and
she knew his traditions; and even worse, his superstitions were so
deeply ingrained in him, she couldn’t argue against it. Like
everything in their love that needed a little modifying, she’d find
a way to convince him otherwise, and still appease him. Mira nodded
her agreement. “We can visit Mondello and then you can convince
me.”


Grazie, Bella.
You continue
to make me a happy man.”


Giovanni?” She grabbed his chin
and spoke in a firm tone. “Our children are more than your progeny;
they are the best of us both. Yes they are Sicilian, but they are
black, Irish, all that makes up you and me. We won’t deny any of
that. It’ll make them stronger. Do you understand?”

He smiled. She kissed his lips, and then
kissed his lips again. This time he did respond, with mastery. She
loved how sweet and tender his kisses could be. His open palm slid
over her thigh and his other hand went up her back. Her blood
heated and their kiss deepened. It became more demanding of them
both, as his tongue swept in and out of her mouth, taking control.
Mira slowly eased open his shirt one button at a time. She dragged
her kisses from his mouth to his neck. When his shirt was fully
open, she used both hands to smoothly go over the powerful
definition of his muscular chest. She lowered from his lap, while
tracing his tattoo with her tongue, and got to her knees between
his parted thighs. Her tongue dipped into his navel, just the tip.
She glanced up at him, watching his chest heave and fall with
finely laid hairs that thickened under his navel and arrowed down
into his pants. He stared as she fumbled with his belt, unbuttoned
him, and dragged down his zipper. Already prevalent, his erection
bulged up against his silk boxers.

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