Bella Mafia Read online

  “Donna Mirabella,” Silvio said and kissed her cheek. “How is Giovanni?”

  “Much better today. The doctors expect him to make a full recovery,” she said to the men.

  They all looked relieved over the news.

  “I will let the Generale know you are here,” Silvio said. He walked off with his briefcase. Mirabella hid her eyes behind her sunglasses. It was silly to wear them inside. But the tears at the lemon house had ruined her makeup. She didn't want these men to see her look anything but composed. Dominic put a hand to her back and she was grateful. He was struggling as well. They made some pair. She glanced over to him and she smiled. He managed to give her one as well.

  Silvio returned with an armed escort. Mirabella was searched first. Her purse taken from her. Dominic went through the same ordeal before they were both led down the hall, down a flight of stairs, and into a room. When she entered, she found nothing distinctive about the bleak meeting room. A man with three other guards waited for her. None of them looked pleased to meet her. And in a flash, his stony expression softened. He stood.

  “Welcome, Signora Battaglia. I am Generale Altoviti. Please have a seat.”

  She did. Her men were not offered a chair. The lawyers and Dominic all stood behind her. Would this be a brief meeting?

  The Generale sat on the edge of the table. “Dominic? My, you look a little worked over,” The Generale commented, gave a snort of disgust and turned his attention back to her. He put on what she imagined he thought was a smile. It was just a grotesque twist of his mouth to reveal his rotted, yellow teeth.

  “I heard of Giovanni's shooting. We were all shocked to learn he survived such a horrific attack. How is he?”

  Mirabella did not remove her sunglasses, but her face tilted up to meet Generale's stare when she spoke. “He's recovering.”

  “Bueno! You hear that officers? Giovanni Battaglia’s recovering.”

  The men all exchanged a look. The Generale stood and clasped his hands together. He stroked his chin and paused. “How long have you been married to him? Six, seven years?”

  “Three,” she said.

  “Only three? Ah yes! Because you were missing, he thought you were dead. And then poof! You turn up here in the Campania. Tsk, tsk, what a mess that was for the government. Italians are generous, no? Welcoming people. You have been granted citizenship. Congratulazion!”

  Mirabella glanced over to Dominic. She knew the Generale was leading her down a road of entrapment, but she wasn't sure what to say to prevent it. So she took Dominic's advice and said nothing.

  “I hear you speak Italian. That you have three kids, and your business is well here. Life is good, except for the bad times. Many bad times lately.” The Generale kept pacing. “How much do you know about the Battaglias? Their history with the Campania?”

  Mirabella didn’t answer. She didn’t think he was looking for an answer. But she definitely felt him searching for something.

  “You see that binder, on the desk?” The Generale asked.

  She glanced over to it and then to him.

  “Inside is the real history lesson. The legacy your husband has left behind for his sons. Just as his father left it for him. Would you like to see it?”

  “Generale? We are here to answer questions regarding the unfortunate shooting of Giovanni Battaglia. Not to subject his grieving wife to your taunts,” Silvio said.

  “Let's not pretend, gentlemen, that you don't know what is coming. The Campania will bathe in blood for years to come. Families will be destroyed.” The Generale stepped closer to the desk. He looked down at her. “You are not from this world you married into. That will make no difference to his enemies. They will kill you. They will slaughter your babies. Just as Giovanni slaughtered the babies of his enemies. And then they will drag him from his hospital bed and finish the Battaglias forever. I can protect you. Get you out of Italy. Make sure you and your children survive this war. Think about what I am offering.”

  The Generale picked up the binder. He handed it over to Dominic, who had no choice but to accept it. “My number is inside. I'll be waiting for your call.”

  Mirabella stood. She and her attorneys walked out. She only looked back once. She regretted doing so. It sent a message she didn't want to. And the Generale caught it. She was afraid.

  ***

  Against Dominic's wishes, Mirabella sat in the car with him and flipped through the pictures of men slaughtered due to her husband’s crimes. Bodies pulled from the sea, images of men of all ages burned, hung, gunned down and bleeding in the streets. It made her sick.

  “The Generale is trying to get in your head. No one is going to hurt the children or you,” Dominic said.

  “He doesn’t have to try. Nothing in this book shocks me,” Mirabella said.

  Dominic looked over at her.

  “My life with him comes at a price. My happiness, the safety of my babies, it all comes at a price. Giovanni pays it. And this is how he does it,” she said. “What’s pathetic is that I could stay in my marriage and ignore this for years—because that was our bargain.”

  “Giovanni wanted to protect you from this,” Dominic mumbled.

  “It’s what we both wanted. I can’t deny that anymore. I can’t deny a lot of things anymore.”

  “I need a drink,” Dominic confessed.

  She glanced over at him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to collect himself. She could tell it was a struggle for him, and that made her sad. Would he ever recover and be the Dominic she knew him to be? Or was this all that was left to him now?

  “I just need a drink to clear my head,” he explained.

  She tossed the book to the side, and the car came to a stop. The men fought for the privilege to open the door for her. She was helped out of the car and covered by their protection all the way to her husband’s room. She half expected to arrive too late. She expected to walk into the room and find Giovanni awake. He'd be pissed at her for not being there. She'd be angry at him for scaring her. And then he'd tell her it was going to be okay. He was going to fix everything. He'd tell her not to believe the Generale, not to believe her own eyes and mind, and to trust him blindly. Part of her, the biggest part of her, would do so gladly. But she would fail. She’d never be blinded to who they were again.

  Mirabella went inside his room and found doctors and nuns who worked as nurses. They were around Giovanni's bed. She tossed her purse to the chair at the door and walked over with her heart in her throat. “Giovanni? Is he awake now?” she asked.

  She stepped to the foot of the bed. Giovanni lay perfectly still. He didn't move. His eyes were closed. He looked... dead. “What is going on?”

  “It's okay, Signora. He's breathing on his own,” The doctor said.

  “And the sedation?"

  “We weaned him off six hours ago. We were expecting progress by now.”

  “He needs time to wake up. Right? Right?” she asked.

  “He's had that time. The longer he doesn't wake... the more concerned we are of brain damage.”

  “I understand what you are saying, now give me some options.”

  “Options signora? We need to run more tests. We need to determine if...”

  “No more guesses about his health. No more guesses about his care. You run the tests and you figure out what is wrong with him. Today. Do you understand me? Today!”

  The doctor stammered his answer—yes. She glared at everyone in the room. “If one word of Giovanni's condition leaks out of this hospital I will consider every one of you responsible.”

  They all nodded.

  “Run the tests, and then I want to hear the plans to move him home. Wake him damn it!”

  The doctor gave orders to the staff and they all scrambled out, relieved to be given the opportunity to leave. She was left alone with Leo and Dominic. Mirabella walked over to the side of her husband’s bed. She put her hand on his chest. He felt warm. And his heartbeat felt normal. He looked like he was sleeping. The
swelling was all but gone. If it weren't for his pale skin, she would just believe he was resting.

  “You're in there aren't you, sweetheart? They don't know. But I know. I'd know it if I'd lost you. You're in there, and we just got to help you come back. Right?” She leaned in and kissed his brow. She kissed his nose. She kissed his lips. “We're okay. We're going to be okay. I promise.”

  “Mira, I have some bad news.”

  She didn't hear him at first. She was too busy loving her husband. Dominic walked over and put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Is it Catalina? Is she dead?”

  “No. Why would you say that?”

  “I dunno Domi. Maybe because we’re both thinking it, every day she’s gone.”

  “True,” he said and she could hear the emotion in his voice.

  “What’s the news today?” she asked.

  “The men told me when we arrived that Rocco had called the hospital looking for us.” Dominic said. She glanced back at him. His eyes were welling with tears. The young consigliere was on the verge of breaking before her. What could it be now?

  “Leave Leo,” Mirabella said.

  Her bodyguard left. “What is it? Marietta? Lorenzo? Are they dead? What now, Domi? Tell me!”

  “Vito. They told him about Rosetta and he had a heart attack. He's dead.” Dominic broke into tears. Mirabella pulled him into her arms and held him. He wept openly. She rubbed his back and fought down her own tears. She let Dominic release his. He clung tight to her, and shook all over. He was coming apart, she could sense it.

  “You have to calm down, Domi. Please.”

  “It's my fault. Catalina killed Rosetta and that's my fault, too. It's all my fault. I did it. I did it. I did it!”

  “Domi? Stop.” She grabbed his face. “Must all of this be about you? Our family is in crisis, and every attack can’t be pinned on your guilt.”

  “I don't know why! It’s my head. It’s in my head.” He walked away and seemed to strangle on his own breathing. “I need a drink. I need...”

  Before Mirabella could stop him Dominic walked out. Stunned, she stood there alone. She glanced over to Giovanni, and then to the door. She'd never seen Dominic behave so weakly. It confused and terrified her. “What's wrong with him, Gio? Sweetheart, what is it I'm not seeing with Domi?”

  Giovanni didn't respond. Mirabella paced. When Giovanni found out about Franco, he said Dominic was weak. When she argued with him about Domi and Catalina being the perfect couple, he would scoff. Her husband always believed Dominic to be weak and Lorenzo corruptible. But she never saw it. They were strong and loyal at his side. She thought they kept Giovanni balanced. She glanced to the door and realized another cold bitter truth. Giovanni was the one that kept them balanced. He was the one that kept Dominic loyal and strong. Mirabella walked over to her husband’s bedside and picked up his hand. She could appreciate all the things he gave her in life. His protective nature, his experience at being a good lover, a good father, a good friend. But she fought him every step of the way whenever she got a glimpse of him being a good Don. And now she saw the void left behind without him. The fibers of their world being unraveled and torn away. That Generale was wrong. He wasn’t a monster, and he was no angel. He was stuck somewhere in between. She kissed his knuckles.

  “I’m alone. Aren't I? Nobody can save this family but us. My way didn’t work. It’s time for me to do it your way.”

  She let go of his hand and went for her purse, digging out her planner. She went to the phone and sat in the chair. Shuffling through the pages, she found the number she needed, and dialed it with trembling hands.

  “Dr. Marchetti speaking.”

  “Sera? This is Mirabella Battaglia.”

  “Mirabella. Oh? Hi? I left messages. I was hoping you would call.”

  “I need to have a meeting. Two days. In Sorrento. Can you come?”

  “Two days... ah, yes, I can be there.”

  “Good. We'll talk then.”

  “Wait! How is your husband? The media says...”

  Mirabella hung up on the doctor. She got up from the chair and went to the side of her husband’s bed again. She made sure he was comfortable. “I think I know what to do, Gio. And I think I know who can help me. I'm going to do it, caro. I'm going to make you proud of me.” She caressed his chest. “The day you open your eyes, you are going to find a new beginning. For us and the family. You're going to have the world at your feet and I’m going to make sure of it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Secrets, Lies, Carabinieri

  Salerno, Italy

  Adara listened to the doctors’ instruction. They'd given Carlo something for his pain. He slept with his mouth opened and wheezed out a nasal snore—loud yet peaceful. Her heart welcomed the normalcy.

  “Do you understand everything I've explained to you, Signorina?”

  “Yes, thank you, Doctor.” The man patted her shoulder and paused a moment for her to ask something more. When she didn’t he left. Exhausted by the weeks of battle and sacrifice since she met Carlo, Adara went to the chair closest to his bed and sat down. She could really go for something to eat. She hadn't eaten anything since that morning. They’d been in the hospital for six hours, and she refused to leave him. The protective nurturer in her worked on autopilot whenever a loved one was in distress. She’d been this way since her family was taken and slaughtered. She did what she could for her younger brother and cousins. That was until she left for college to join the Italian special forces.

  There was a knock at the door.

  Adara looked up.

  Typically, the nuns and the doctors arrived and left without making a sound. Adara’s head turned and the face of a beautiful woman peeked inside. It didn't take an anvil to fall on her head for her to know who the visitor was. This woman wasn’t from their world. This woman was whispered about all through the Campania. So few have seen her up close. Even fewer have had conversations with her. Adara stood at once.

  The woman with medium brown skin and dark hair walked in, accompanied by a tall brooding man. He was broad shouldered, ugly and menacing in his silent presence. He remained at the door with his hands clasped to the front of him. He had a scar, and tattooing that covered one side of his face. Adara wasn't sure. It wasn't pleasant to look at him for long.

  “Ciao, Adara? Yes?” Giovanni's wife asked.

  “È giusto Adara, ciao,” She answered. She'd seen this woman in fashion magazines and on the television. Today was the closest Adara had ever been to a celebrity. And that’s what Mirabella Battaglia was for the rest of the world. Pictures of her or her children sold for thousands of dollars. Tourists swarmed Sorrento yearly to try to get a glimpse of that palace near the mountains she lived in. Adara had grown up hating her, because she believed the war that killed her family was because of this woman. However, after listening to her older cousin Giuseppe on those tapes with Lorenzo Battaglia, she wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.

  “Il mio nome è Mirabella Battaglia,” the woman said.

  “I speak English, Donna. I know who you are,” Adara replied respectfully.

  “Call me Mirabella,” she said with a smile. To Adara’s surprise the Donna was prettiest when she smiled.

  “How’s my tough guy doing?” the Donna asked.

  Carlo’s snoring lessoned as if somehow he was aware that a lady had entered the room. The bandage had slipped to cover half of his shut eyes. Adara smiled at her patient and made sure he was comfortable. “He’s getting stronger.”

  Adara glanced up as the Donna walked over to the bed. She touched Carlo's jaw with affection, and placed a kiss to the top of his head. The way a mother would do a child. Carlo didn't stir. Mirabella stroked his hand. “When he feels better, I want you and him to come over for dinner so we can talk. I think it might be best that he moves into Melanzana while he recovers. Okay?”

  “Grazie,” Adara said. “But...”

  “No buts. If he needs to heal he should do it wi
th family. You both are welcome, and I will make sure he has the best care.”

  “That’s very generous. Tante grazie,” Adara said.

  The door opened. Arielle stepped inside the room with flowers. The Donna looked up at her arrival. Arielle was Adara's surrogate mother. The woman who rescued her from certain death after Giovanni ordered the slaughter of the Calderone family. Why was she here now?

  “Forgive me. I didn't know he already had visitors.”

  Adara froze. She was unable to speak.

  “No, non problemo. Are you family?” Mirabella asked.

  “Family? Ah, no, just a friend." Arielle replied. She walked over to Carlo's bedside and set the flowers on the night stand. She removed the scarf that covered her long raven hair. It flowed gracefully past her shoulders, and revealed more of her youthful beauty. She walked over to Carlo's bedside and set the flowers on the night stand.

  “I’m Arielle, and you are Giovanni's wife. Donna Mirabella, it's a pleasure to meet you in person.”

  “Hello, Arielle, nice to meet you too,” the Donna said.

  “How is he?” Arielle asked.

  The Donna paused and deferred to Adara to answer with a glance. She must have thought the question was for Carlo. When Adara just smiled, it dawned on Mirabella that the inquiry was in reference to her husband. Adara couldn’t tell if the Donna was surprised that Arielle knew Giovanni, or insulted that her adoptive mother was bold enough to inquire about him. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence between the women, the Donna answered with a smile and a polite tone. “Giovanni’s doing well, grazie.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that. Your husband is a good man. We are all praying for him.”

  Mirabella nodded.

  “It’s time I leave,” Mirabella smiled. “I just wanted to check in on Carlo. Adara, the moment he is awake please consider my offer and call me. I've already spoken to the hospital. I arranged to have a physician make home visits to check on him at his villa, so no worries about his care.”