La Sposa Page 9

  Silvio cleared his throat. “Signora Marietta, like I’ve said to you before, I can’t represent you. It’s absurd for you to even ask. I can only refer you to legal friends of mine to help your cause. I represent the Capriccios.”

  “And I am a Capriccio.” She pulled her hand away. Lorenzo hadn’t realized he still held it. What was sly and amusing about her smirk earlier was lethal now as she glared at Silvio. “Caruso knew it, and so do you. Capriccio blood runs in my veins under this dark skin that turns all of you to stone when I enter the room.”

  “Please, Signora…”

  “Enough of the fake pleasantries and stalling tactics! I’m here because I belong here. If the family refuses to believe that I am a Capriccio, then let’s have the blood test. What are you hiding?”

  “Capriccio was insistent that there be no blood test. You already know this. It will invalidate the will and draw out the legalities for years.”

  “That makes absolutely no sense!” she shouted. “You’re keeping me from what is rightfully mine. I won’t go away. You tell David my offer to negotiate with him expires tonight. Next time we meet, I will come with attorneys for it all!” Marietta reached for her purse off the lawyer’s desk, and then grabbed her coat. Lorenzo observed her, a bit amused. She stepped directly into Silvio’s face. “I’ve waited all my life to meet my father. Now he’s dead. But that changes nothing, because he loved me. He put me in that will and I deserve to be at the hearing. And you, David, none of you will keep me from my birthright.” She started to the door, but Lorenzo sidestepped and blocked her.

  “Allow me to help you with your coat.”

  He removed it from her arms and held it open for her. Marietta flashed a challenging glare. Surprisingly, she accepted the gesture; and he took the time to touch her after she eased them in the sleeves. She then pushed past him and walked out. Silvio closed the door behind her with a loud slam. The slender short man hurried around his desk to inspect his file cabinets.

  “How the hell did she break into these? The locks are broke on two. Where the hell is Nora? She’s supposed to make sure no one gets into my office without my approval.”

  “She used that thing to break in. The door was open when I arrived.” Lorenzo nodded to the tossed aside letter opener.

  Silvio threw his hands up. He removed his keys from his pocket and went to a file cabinet in the left corner of the room. He unlocked it and brought out a thick folder. “I can’t control her. She’s relentless.”

  “So she is Capriccio’s daughter?”

  The lawyer took a seat. He gave a loud snort of disgust. “Capriccio was a bastard. Even after he left the life and went legitimate, he could never wash clean the dirt from the past. The old man wanted to include her in the will, but he didn’t explain why or confirm her birth to his sons. None but David knew. This infuriated her. As if she could force a family to welcome her. Then he has a stroke and dies in the middle of this mess.”

  “Capriccio’s daughter? Interesting.” Lorenzo chuckled. He meant no disrespect but the Capriccio daughters all looked like their father in height, build, and features. He wouldn’t fuck them with Silvio’s dick. The doll who breezed out of the office couldn’t be a relative, not even a distant one.

  “Yes, she’s a black Americana. Shocked me too when she showed up ranting and raving about uncovering some family secret.” Silvio waved off her claim. “Apparently, she’s the product of a stay he did in America. David Capriccio summoned me from Napoli to deal with her. David tried giving her money to keep her from getting close to his father, but she went around him. She wanted Caruso to acknowledge her with his family. Caruso confessed to me and his son that he had added her to his will years ago, when she was born. It was on the sole condition that there’d be no blood test. The stupid fucker had a heart attack two weeks later. And now you see the result.”

  Lorenzo smirked. “Tell me more.”

  “She walks into the funeral. She sits with the family. Shocked the hell out of everyone. When Maria Capriccio, his oldest daughter, asked her to move to another seat, she shouts to the entire church the dead man’s secret. And she did it in Italian too. Told the church that she was his black bastardo.”

  Lorenzo roared with laughter. “I think I’m in love.”

  “Well you won’t think it’s so funny when you learn that she’s interfering with your affairs. Giuseppe Calderone had David put many of his own factories in the Capriccio family’s name. Angelo washed his money clean through the Capriccios business while he was on the run. She files another motion with the courts before I can transfer deeds to the Battaglias, and it will be out of our hands. The Republic will discover that the Capriccios are guilty of money laundering. That won’t bode well for Giovanni’s desire to acquire a legitimate business.”

  Lorenzo’s smile faded. “Bullshit.”

  “She’s demanding an equal split of all of Capriccio’s assets. Which is why I’ve delayed the reading of the will. I need you and David to finalize the transition of his debt to Giovanni. She’s here snooping to try to get her hands on any leverage. Even suggested I switch sides and represent her. Like I said, she’s relentless.”

  “Where is she staying?” Lorenzo asked. “Maybe I should speak to her?” He clenched his gloved fist.

  “Why?” Silvio responded sharply. “Don’t go near the viper! She’ll take your balls before you go for your gun.”

  Lorenzo laughed. Silvio scowled. “I’m not kidding. At the church where they threw her out, Alex the youngest, actually raised his hand to strike her. She went for his throat. It happened so fast and she’s so small, we didn’t even know that she hit her mark. That was until he fell over and spit up blood. The doctors said he was lucky she didn’t crush his larynx. He can’t speak even now.”

  “I think I can handle her.”

  “Stay away from her.” Silvio flipped open the file. “Now let’s talk business. You won’t like what I’m about to tell you. David has product he hasn’t moved. It’s with the Nigerians. They are growing marijuana out in Tuscany. Harvesting plenty under the Ndrangheta. Giovanni wants nothing to do with it, but the factory you own here he passed documents to Lorenzo that he accepted. “Are already part of the trade. Time and negotiations need to be made to clear it out.”

  “I was told the Capriccios knew better?”

  “Yes. This was something Giuseppe left before his untimely death; and with the war of the Battaglias and Calderones it was never settled. Giuseppe kept an office there as well. Bonaduce had a hand in it as well, not sure how much. It’s a mess and dead men tell no tales. David wants a little more time to make this deal clean and settle affairs. He’s trying to smooth things over between Bonaduce and the Nigerians.” Silvio’s gaze flipped up. He had a lazy eye, which almost looked like a squint when he smiled. “The Nigerians hate your family. They won’t make a move because they fear the clans of the Camorra.”

  “Unfortunate that we still have bad blood between us,” Lorenzo chuckled. “Tell me more about this office Giuseppe kept. What kind of things are there?”

  Silvio shrugged. “How would I know? I couldn’t stand the runt. I have no feelings about Giovanni’s order to annihilate the Calderones.”

  “But David knows?” Lorenzo stroked his chin. Lorenzo considered the impossible. Maybe, just maybe the tapes did exist, and David Capriccio had them. Would David be stupid enough to blackmail him?

  Marietta pressed her ear closer to the cool surface of the door. The men spoke in Italian and she understood every word. She reached in her purse. Her clumsy fumbling almost caused her to drop it. She actually bumped the door nosily. Her breath caught, and she squeezed her eyes shut, avoiding a disaster that could reveal her efforts to eavesdrop. Had they heard her? The two men kept speaking as if they hadn’t. Marietta found a pen and a piece of paper at the bottom of her purse. Looping the strap on her shoulder, she began to scribble the words: Bonaduce, Giuseppe Calderone, Giovanni Battaglia, Nigerians and marijuana.

 
She frowned at the paper, trying to absorb the meaning of it all. She wrote another word, actually a sentence: Lorenzo Battaglia wants to know about Giuseppe Calderone’s office?

  What is David hiding?

  The man who arrived was so unbelievably handsome, she nearly lost her composure. Thankfully, she recovered. There was a hard predatory appeal to him. She knew his kind. He reminded her of the shady characters and ex-cons who used to work for the construction company her adoptive father in Chicago owned. Although Lorenzo Battaglia looked polished and rich in his dark suit, he did enter the room with gloves on. And she was certain he had a concealed weapon.

  Hearing the conversation conclude, Marietta quickly and quietly went for the door. She hurried into the hall and turned the first corner, determined to remain out of sight. Her heart raced and she swallowed a few times to slow down her breathing. Careful to remain unseen, she peeked out from around the corner with one eye. Lorenzo stepped into the hall. He started toward the elevators on the opposite side of the hall. His broad powerful steps and the light flow of his long coat made her curious of his connection to David. At the elevator, he punched the button and waited. After a quiet second or two, Marietta swallowed a breath and gripped the corner of the wall watching. Lorenzo’s head slowly turned, and he cast his gaze back over his shoulder. Marietta drew back, startled. Had he seen her? Did he know she was there? Counting down the minutes, she heard the elevator ding. She waited. Waited. Then she peeked out again. The doors to the elevator closed. No. He hadn’t seen her.

  Determined to pursue the new clues she had gained, she went down the hall and to the window and caught sight of Lorenzo strolling up the street.

  She intended to follow him.

  *****

  “Andiamo!”

  Before she could object, Dominic pulled her from the room. So many were gathered today, she could barely greet one family member over the other. And Dominic struggled to navigate the clusters of people who loved to crowd Melanzana and get close to the Don on holidays. Typically, Giovanni was very generous. Many left, filled with wine and some type of monetary gift or offering for both favorable and unfavorable deeds in the year.

  Today however, her brother had been distracted. And it caught them all by surprise. First, his insistence on preparing Mira’s breakfast that ended with him yelling and cursing until Zia and her sisters took over the cooking and fixed him a tray to take upstairs to his beloved. Then his overly possessive need to have Mira and Eve to himself. Refusing Catalina’s request to enter their room twice when she came to collect them. On the third attempt, Mira had to reason with him to be released. It didn’t end there. Several times he’d come down the hall demanding to speak or see his future bride and Catalina intercepted. His mood became more brooding with each failed attempt.

  Strange for her brother. She could sense a bit of panic in his behavior. And there was fatigue in Mira’s eyes. Were they okay? The wedding had to happen. But the tension between them seemed to build steadily.

  Now Dominic was acting the same way? Men!

  Dominic continued on his mission dragging her with him. He couldn’t locate a quiet space in the sea of laughing, smiling faces to the back of Melanzana. This area was where everyone gathered. Several years ago, Giovanni allowed her to develop a spa room and shower on the east wing. Catalina had called in her people to give facials, body wax, pedicure and manicures for them all. She even allowed her hateful cousin Rosetta to be included.

  “Domi where are we going—”

  He tugged her hand firmly and she hurried to match his fast pace. Before she could capture her breath, she was pulled into the room and then forced up against the wall. The caress of his lips over her mouth silenced her worry over Giovanni intruding on the pampering of Mira. Dominic’s tongue traced the fullness of her bottom lip before easing inside her mouth. A warm loving kiss that sent slivers of desire racing through her. Catalina gave herself freely to the kiss. She lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. Fast and furious their tongues clashed, and she held to him, relishing the freedom to be his now, openly.

  The kiss ended, only for them both to capture a needed breath. And still, her heart continued to race. It thundered in her chest threatening to explode.

  “All my life I’ve loved you, Catalina.”

  “Oh, Domi… I love you too.”

  “Let me finish. Please.”

  “Okay?” she said, a bit curious by the tender passion brimming in his eyes.

  “From the moment they brought you home as a baby, I stood by your crib watching over you. I was just a boy myself. Orphaned in a family of men who frightened me. I was six.”

  She smiled and touched his face.

  He closed his eyes and continued to speak from his heart. “At first it was an innocent love, Catalina, I swear it on my soul. But one day I looked over and you were a woman. The love that I had for you changed into something deeper than I’d ever imagined. I was changed. Forgive me for being weak and not admitting my feelings sooner. No more. I promise to protect our love with my life if I have to.”

  “I love you so much,” she said, nearly choking down the words with tears of emotion. “I will protect our love with my life as well,” she grinned.

  “Go upstairs and pack a bag. Hell pack two bags, because after the wedding tomorrow, we leave.”

  “Leave? For where?” Catalina pushed him off her so she could read his face clearly. She’d been asking him to take her to Paris to shop for an engagement ring. Was this it?

  Dominic had a beautiful smile. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “America. We’re going to America. You will get to see Mira’s business and I have business of my own. So pack plenty. I’m not sure for how long we will visit.”

  “Are you serious? New York?”

  Dominic nodded.

  Catalina screamed. She jumped at him and he caught her with one arm, spinning her around the room. Dominic laughed. He lowered her, and Catalina couldn’t contain her excitement. “Mira didn’t tell me. She didn’t say a word.”

  “She doesn’t know. Or maybe she hasn’t had a chance. Either way, we’re going.”

  “So you are consigliere again? Giovanni has forgiven you?”

  Dominic’s smile faded. “Not yet. I have some work to do for him. But it’s just a matter of time. I can feel it.”

  Catalina nodded. “That’s right. It’s only a matter of time!”

  Mira felt a warm glow flow through her as she eased on her robe. The sleeves and hem were so long they covered her feet and hands. She smiled at the young girl who had tended to her. She was an exceptionally shy yet beautiful woman, with coal black hair and dark olive skin. In fact, beautiful women were all around her in this country. Her gaze lifted to her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t recognize the woman staring back at her. Dark swelling puffed underneath her sleepy eyes. Her face paled and her hair had lost all luster. With thick roots and frizzy ends, she tucked her tangles behind both ears.

  She’d seen this woman before.

  The first three months of her pregnancy with Eve she’d lost ten pounds and slept day and night. The doctors had ordered her to full bed rest when she entered her third trimester. He told her Eve was draining her, and it was true. None of this she shared with Giovanni. He was already on edge, and kept asking her to confirm that she would indeed marry him. It was cute and a bit troubling. The closer to the wedding they drew, the more agitated he became. What was he afraid of?

  “Signora? I can begin your facial now.”

  Mira smiled. The young girl used great skill in waxing and oiling her skin. Mira, however, insisted that she wasn’t shaved bare down below, but trimmed. Giovanni had made that request of her several nights ago, when he walked in on her grooming herself in the bathroom. He loved the feel of her pubes against his thighs when she slept nude with him every night, and her legs were intertwined with his.

  “Grazie,” Mira said, and yawned.

  “Afterwards, we can start on your hair. And
rea will be arriving to do it. She is really good with black hair. She’s African.”

  “Oh really, okay I have an idea how I’d like to wear it—”

  “Vai via! Fatti fatti toui!” Giovanni’s voice boomed above a softer one in the front area.

  Mira nearly jumped in surprise. The girl looked to her with fear in her eyes. She gave her a comforting smile and hurried out into the hall to see what the commotion was. Rosetta and her aunts were pleading with Giovanni, who paced and shouted at them to bring Mira to him immediately. The other ladies were undergoing their own beautification regiments, but now they all stood silent and transfixed on the angry Don, a man who stubbornly refused the word no.

  “Bring her to me now!”

  “Catalina said that you aren’t supposed to come back here, Gio. Please go away,” Rosetta responded.

  Giovanni’s gaze lifted and locked on Mira. She frowned at his behavior, embarrassed for him. “It’s okay, Rosetta. He’s been patient enough. We can talk.” She extended her hand. He walked over to her and she led him past the others to a room she knew was empty. As soon as they entered, he was pulling her into his arms.

  “Why are you making a scene? You scared them to death.”

  “I needed to talk to you. Who the hell are they to tell me no?” he said, going in for a kiss. Mira pushed his face away.

  “It’s the third time you’ve come here. You said you’d be patient.”

  “You look tired,” he said, his brow creasing with worry.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Do you feel okay?”

  Mira hesitated. To be honest, she could barely stand. She really wanted to curl up and go back to sleep or get another massage. Anything but standing. “I’m fine,” she lied.

  “I have to go to Napoli. Every time I asked for you I’m sent away. I’m sick of it.”

  He gave her a sheepish look. She cupped his face. “You do know I’m doing all of this for our big day tomorrow. To be beautiful for you.”