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La Famiglia Page 3


  “Am I fat, Gio?” Mira asked. That morning she realized she could no longer see her feet.

  Her husband let go a sharp peal of laughter. “Of course you are fat, Bella.”

  Mira hit him, and he laughed harder. He had to restrain her from hitting him again. And it took several deep breaths to stop his laughter.

  “Calm down,” he said as he grinned. “You’re carrying my boys. Sons. The best blessing God could have given us. You American women and your fascination with weight is ridiculous. A real man wants to see his woman grow with life, feel the swell of her thighs, her belly,” he said in earnest.

  It was true. As much as she was aroused by his physique, he expressively showed her he desired hers as well. From the first moment she gave her body to him Giovanni knew every curve and seemed to be pleased with her body changes. They had mastered the perfect positions for lovemaking to get around her girth.

  “Giovanni?”

  “Yes,” he said as they strolled slower with his men flanked behind them.

  “Where’s Lorenzo?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  “It’s been four months. Did you two have a disagreement? Tell me,” she probed.

  “He’s in Europe. We speak often. He will be back after the boys are born,” Giovanni replied.

  Mira smiled. She eased her arm around his waist. When the doctor told them that she was carrying boys it was a non-event for Giovanni. He was so certain of the babies’ sex that he’d already made the announcement to the family.

  Early on in her pregnancy she would question his confidence, his control, but day-by-day she accepted her husband for who he was to them all. Mira glanced up at Melanzana. Once they cleared the path the melon colored walls of their villa glistened, blocking out the sun. “What is Mondello like? Is it as beautiful as Sorrento?”

  “More than beautiful. You will love our new home.”

  “How long will we stay?” she asked.

  “Until the boys are ready to travel. A month or two after their birth. Is that okay?” he asked.

  “Does it matter?” she chuckled. “You’ll do what you wish either way.”

  Giovanni stopped. Mira glanced up at him and saw the scowl hardening the look in his eyes. He took her hands and kissed them. “Am I that bad, Bella?”

  “Huh? No. It was a joke. Don’t be silly.” She tried to continue to walk. He stopped her. He forced a smile.

  “I want you to love Sicily, to see it as our second home. I only push because… Sicily is a part of us both. More than you realize.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” Mira shrugged.

  “What do you want? Tell me? Name it and I will make sure you have it,” Giovanni said.

  Careful of her choice she decided on a simple request. “You. Tonight. I want just you, no business. Just you, me, and Eve for our last night in Sorrento. I saw Santo. Promise you won’t leave with him.”

  “Done.” He nodded his head like an eager to please child.

  Mira touched his cheek. “I’m okay, Giovanni. I want to go to Sicily. It’s where you spent a lot of your childhood. Our children will love it, and so will I.”

  “Ti amo, cara,” he leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “I am truly a lucky man.”

  She lifted her arms to circle them around his neck and drew his mouth back down to hers. The kiss swept them both up in the familiar sensuous warmth of their passion. And soon he overpowered her, deepening the thrill. She inhaled every scent, from his rich cologne to the blue roses blooming around the trail. And she fell deeper in love with her husband.

  La Dolce Vita…

  This was indeed the good life.

  1.

  Giovanni entered his office short on patience. Mira’s temperament stressed both his mind and his heart. She was much better today. In fact her mood was so light and jovial he had a hard time trusting it. Yesterday she broke down into a crying fit that left the entire family distressed. He was summoned from Napoli. Santo had to conclude his business affairs because Dominic tended to other matters concerning the Bonaduces in his triangle.

  The reason for Bella’s tantrum was of no importance, if she lost control he had to be there because only he could calm her down. The doctors said it was an imbalance with her hormones, and the mood swings were to be expected. But the problem was the diagnosis they received a few weeks ago. The truth that he kept secret from his wife could possibly mean an early childbirth.

  The plans were finalized. He’d take her to paradise and find a way to force her to relax for the next few weeks. During her lesson with her new gun, Santo updated him on the turf dispute with two important clans within the Camorra. The Mottola clan was almost as powerful as Giovanni in the Camorra, and their involvement in the matter was troubling. Though Giovanni was impressed with how well Santo managed things up to this point, he now had reason to be worried.

  As he bounded down the steps to head to his office Renaldo informed him of Rocco’s arrival. His uncle had been avoiding him since the truth of Mira’s paternity was uncovered. Almost four months. They had a huge fight and Rocco ordered Zia away from Melanzana as well. This hurt his Bella and he could never explain to her the true reason why.

  Maybe Rocco had come around.

  “What is it old man?” Giovanni asked. He decided to take the visit with him first.

  Rocco paced. He looked at Giovanni, paused, and then began to pace again. With a heavy sigh Giovanni walked over to the sofa in his office and sat. He reclined back to spread his arms wide across the top. Though he could go for a glass of vino, he decided to keep a clear head. And he knew his cool demeanor made light of the tension between him and his zio. Though this discussion would happen he believed it could end on an unpleasant note.

  “Is it true? Zia tells me before the babies are born you will take Mirabella to Sicily.”

  Giovanni gave a single nod. The side of his face rested between his thumb and trigger finger. His gaze honed in on Rocco’s look of incomprehension.

  “Why? It’s too soon,” he said in a tone uncharacteristically sharp. Rocco’s arthritic hands, gnarled by age and hard work, were now clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Mancini knows you have his daughters. In the past few months he’s been quiet. It’s not like him. He’s plotting something, Gio, and… I fear you have underestimated him.”

  “Non importa. He is of no threat to me or mia moglie—my wife. To expose himself weakens his bond with his son.”

  “I’m telling you that—”

  “Marsuvio breathes through an iron lung and is on his deathbed. A shell of the man he used to be. He won’t risk his legacy in the Mafia by challenging me for my Bella’s affections. It has been three months since I delivered that warning and he’s heeded it. Va bene zio Rocco. You worry for nothing.”

  “You told him. Didn’t you? You told him that Tomosino ordered the death of Mira’s mother.”

  Rage rose in Giovanni like a black tidal wave washing out the last of his patience. “Listen to me, zio! Never say those words again. Patri is dead and so is the past. Bella will never need to learn of my tie to her mother’s death.”

  “It is not your lie, son. It’s your father’s sin. If it is in the past then you should tell her. Prepare her. Especially if you want to take her to Sicilia. You are not invincible, Gio!” Rocco pointed at him. “Dominic came to see me last month. You have started to deal with Sacra Corona Unita again. First the `Ndrangheta and now the Mafioso are circling? There are snakes in your pit and you opened the door! This is dangerous.”

  “Balle! In order to take this family forward I have to deal with enemies. Keep them close. Not run and hide to rot on a vineyard like you,” Giovanni spat with disgust. “I know what I’m doing. I won’t die in some stupid Mafia war. I won’t waste away in prison and be forced from my wife and children. I won’t run and hide when my enemies come for me. What I will do is take this family forward. Legitimize us, and invest in the clans of the Camorra, which I have made stronger!”<
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  “Gio—”

  “She is my wife!” he shouted to the top of his lungs. Like cannon blast his words boomed in the office. Rocco stepped back. “Mine! Even Mancini knows that my marrying Bella has changed everything between our families. And he will respect me.” Giovanni leveled a finger at his uncle. “So will you.”

  Rocco cut his gaze away. Rocco was from a different era of men. Born out of the same traditions that Mancini and his father upheld. They lived by a code, tenets of the Mafia that ruled their choices. Therefore, Rocco would choose his words wisely. And Mancini would choose his actions against Giovanni with the same care. These were delicate times. His plans to legitimize some of their interests would mean he’d have to give over more control to the lower clans of the Camorra. He needed to ensure that the peace held between the Mafioso and the Camorra when he shifted control elsewhere. The `Ndrangheta continued to use the ports of Napoli and were closely watched by Santo’s crew. Of course his hands would never be clean of some of their lucrative affairs, but drugs and human trafficking were not a business he’d be sullied by ever again.

  “I will go with you. Zia and I will come to Sicilia,” Rocco sighed. “I can be of use to you with Mancini. In case there is trouble.”

  “No.” Giovanni stood. “You had your chance to stand with me. You chose not to for the past four months. You kept Zia away from Bella and forced me to make an excuse for your absence. You tried to manipulate me, old man. I’m not the nephew you have to tutor any longer.”

  Rocco blinked at the refusal. “Gio? You are not alone in this. I can help you.”

  Giovanni corrected his tone. “I run this family. I alone decide our fates and that’s the way it has always been since Patri died. You can come after the babies are born. I know you have not shared with Zia who Bella is. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “But Zia is why I returned She rides me over this disagreement between us. She wants to be with Mirabella and Eve. In fact she insists upon it.”

  “I said no. Bella and Eve need to get acquainted with Sicily. I need them to be relaxed not influenced. Santo will run things here for me. Dominic will travel between Sorrento and Mondello as needed. Bella… she’s delicate. These last few months are critical.”

  “Is something wrong with the babies?” Rocco asked.

  Giovanni hadn’t told many about the depressive state his wife often slipped into. She had her highs where she smiled, and cared for the family, burden free. But there were dark moments that he managed to keep private behind closed doors. Tears for Fabiana would cripple her with grief. Stress and worry over the company she and Catalina loved to play with would have her on the phone pacing at all hours in the night. And the worst episodes were the fears that she would not be a good mother because of her own mother’s abandonment.

  Later in her pregnancy a new issue arose. There was blood in her urine. Often she’d find blood when she wiped. It scared the shit out of them both. He’d flown in the best perinatologist in Italy for high-risk pregnancies. He was currently doing casework out of Palermo and came highly recommended. Giovanni learned the real reason for her issues. Her diagnosis changed everything.

  Rosetta and limited staff were allowed near her. Dominic said he should let her design clothes more to relax her, and he did. She and Rosetta worked on projects in her sewing room often. It made her happy. His consigliere also suggested she be allowed to make friends. Giovanni disagreed. She needed him, not strangers, to see her through this.

  “Gio? Is there something I should know, son? Something that makes you worry for her health?” Rocco asked.

  He smiled. “She’s fine. No worries. We leave in the morning. I hear there have been some changes at the vineyard? No?”

  Rocco nodded. “We’ve made a few.”

  “Bravo! No more worry about Mancini.” Giovanni dropped his arm around Rocco’s shoulders and started to walk him to the door. “For years the old Don knew that Bella was alive, zio. He let her go decades without making contact. He’s a coward. Un idiota. No threat to Bella. We are going to Sicily to celebrate the birth of my sons. The best doctor for her is based out of Palermo. My sons will be born on Sicilian soil.”

  “And her sister? How do you plan to deal with her?” Rocco asked.

  Giovanni didn’t bother to answer.

  Rocco shook his head. “I pray you know what you are doing.”

  Giovanni chuckled. “Don’t I always?”

  * B *

  “Zia?” Mira stopped.

  She put a hand to her joy filled heart that thundered crazily in her chest. She hadn’t seen Zia in close to six weeks. When she called, and often she did, to ask her to return, Zia told her she was needed in Chianti and would try to see her soon. Mira was beginning to think Zia didn’t want to visit. Giovanni was always dismissive of those fears.

  “You’re here!” Mira hurried over to the old woman and embraced her. The hug was awkward and stunted by her middle girth. But she grinned and held to Zia.

  “Ciao, bella,” Zia stroked her back. She patted her back within their embrace. “I’ve missed you, Mirabella.”

  “I’ve missed you too. Wait until Eve sees you,” Mira gushed, releasing her. She wiped away her tears.

  “Eve’s sleeping. I’ve already checked on her,” Zia chuckled almost giddy with happiness. “She’s so big, Mira. Mama mia! I’ve missed her so much!” Zia exclaimed.

  When Mira stood tall she saw a young woman sitting quietly on the sofa. “Cecelia? Is that you?”

  “Sì. Ciao, Donna,” Cecilia stood and bowed her head in her usual shy manner. She was such a demure beauty with short brown hair, olive skin, and large round eyes. She wore a white dress that belted at the waist and dropped neatly from her curvy hips. “I hope it is okay that I came.”

  Mira walked over with her arms extended. Cecelia hadn’t returned to Melanzana since her unfortunate accident on Mira’s wedding day. The young girl embraced her with what sounded like a deep sigh of relief.

  “How are you?” Mira asked.

  “I’m doing much better.” Cecilia stepped back. She lifted her foot in her leather slipper. “See?”

  “You sure are,” Mira touched her hand. “I’m so sorry for the accident. Did you get the gifts I sent?”

  “It was so generous of you, Donna. My mother told me to thank you. The money was such a help with our expenses.”

  “Good,” Mira felt a little relief. Still the accident weighed heavily on her heart. Giovanni told her the fall could have broken Cecilia’s neck. And Nico had been so worried over Cecilia’s recovery.

  “Zia asked that I return,” Cecilia said. “She tells me that you will give birth to sons soon. It is a true blessing.” Cecilia touched Mira’s stomach. Mira beamed so hard with happiness she felt her face flush and her cheeks ache. The twins moved in response to Cecilia’s touch and Mira chuckled when the young woman’s eyes stretched in wonder.

  “If I lifted my shirt you might even see a foot or elbow poke against my skin. My sons are constantly wrestling in my belly.” Mira laughed.

  “Mira?” Zia began. “I think Cecilia should stay and help you. With Eve and the babies on the way you need the additional hands. No?”

  “Why can’t you stay, Zia? I’ve been asking for you. Did Giovanni tell you I wanted you to come? I told him to call and convince you.”

  Zia forced a smile. “Rocco hasn’t wanted me to leave the vineyard. I can’t go against his wishes.”

  “What? Why?” Mira exclaimed.

  “Shh, now. Gio’s been very protective of you. He wants his time with you and Eve,” Zia said.

  “That’s nonsense. He’s off working half the time. Why would he want you to stay away?” Mira stopped herself. Giovanni’s reasoning never made sense to her. Had he told Rocco to keep Zia away? Damn him. She tried not to let them see her irritation with his smothering. They would definitely have words on this later.

  Before Zia could clarify Rosetta walked in. The young woman stopped and blinked in
surprise at the sight of Cecilia. Rosetta’s hair was swept up into a slender ponytail. She wore a blue jean skirt with a red and orange tank-top underneath an unbuttoned, oversized white shirt with thong sandals. Most days when Eve took her nap Rosetta spent her time in the sewing room completing a task Mira had assigned to her. She was a good pupil, an eager learner. In fact Mira considered sending her to Milano to work with Catalina instead of Mondello.

  The two women, Cecilia and Rosetta, hadn’t seen each other since the wedding. Truthfully, the apprentice work Rosetta did for Mira at times left Eve to Ana on some days. And soon Mira would add two more babies to the mix. She couldn’t complain for assistance because Giovanni would then learn of how time consuming her side project of being Rosetta’s teacher had become.

  Mira smiled. Zia always knew her needs without her voicing them. “It would be great for Cecilia to return.” Mira clapped. “We leave for Mondello tomorrow and I won’t return to Sorrento until after the babies are born. Cecilia you can help us get the nursery ready.”

  “Ah, ciao, Zia,” Rosetta went to her aunt to embrace her. She never took her eyes from Cecilia who held her stare. “What is this about? Sicily?” Rosetta asked.

  “Giovanni informed me that we have to leave in the morning. So we have plenty of packing to do,” Mira said.

  “But… what about Catalina? She’s returning from Milano. You said I might be able to go back with her.”

  Mira shrugged. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll work it out. You’ll get your chance to work in Milano.”

  “Are you feeling okay, Mira?” Zia asked. “Not over-exerting yourself?”

  Mira laughed. “How can I? Everyone around here watches me like a hawk, including your stubborn grand niece. Do you know the other day she grabbed my hand and forced me to sit down, imitating her father?”

  Zia laughed. She put her arm around Mira’s waist. “Let’s go upstairs and look in on Eve. You can tell me how you keep your days. And tonight we can prepare a good dinner for the family.”

  Mira welcomed the comfort of Zia’s embrace. Together they walked out of the room. She glanced back at Rosetta who paced. Cecilia sat on the sofa once more watching Rosetta. “You two come up in an hour and I can show you all the things we need to pack. Okay?”