Amore (24 page)

The heat their bodies generated made his shirt wet with their shared sweat. She blinked away the tears of comfort and bliss while she clung to him. There was nothing left of her but submission. He lifted his head after a few minutes and stared down into her eyes. “I am proud of you, Bella.”

“I know. I know, sweetheart.” She smiled up at him. He dropped his head on her chest and pulled his flaccid cock out of her so he could rest against her breast. She stroked his head and relaxed. Mira decided to give him an hour tops and then he’d have to rise to the occasion again. The wine and trip down memory lane had her body purring for a repeat performance.

**

“Okay, Catalina, I think I’m done!” Marietta closed the folder. She’d signed every invoice and contract. The party in Bellagio would be the biggest event she’d ever thrown in her life for her birthday. And to think all of it would occur in her house. When Giovanni gave Bellagio back to Lorenzo, her husband put her name on the deed. She couldn’t believe she owned the palace by the lake. She absolutely loved that place.

Catalina had left to go downstairs and tell Dominic they were ready to leave. She also wanted to say goodbye to the rest of the staff. When she heard the door open, Marietta assumed it was Catalina. She glanced back. Lorenzo stood there observing her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a smile.

“Are you done?”

“I am now.” She turned and leaned against the desk. “I wish you would have come with Gio. Joined us for dinner. I want to show off my man to all the girls.”

Lorenzo gave her a sly smile in return.

“Miss me today?” Marietta teased.

“Don’t I always? I was hoping I could take you home and you’d cook for us.” Lorenzo stepped toward her.

“Us? I already ate.”

He crossed the distance separating them. He pressed his hand to her lower belly and looked into her eyes. “My son needs to eat too. How do you feel?” he asked.

She found it incredulous that the man would think she would be pregnant because he said so. He was so cute though. “I don’t know if I’m pregnant yet. It might take some time.”

“I made you a doctor’s appointment, Marie.”

“I told you, Lo, I don’t need a doctor. I just need you.” She tried to get around him but he grabbed her by the arms and stilled her.

“Wait,” he said. “Calm down, Marie. I’m not trying to piss you off. This is important to me, to us. Okay? We need to see a professional. Gio thinks it’s a good idea.”

“What if we take a break?” she asked.

“Che cosa?”
he replied. “Break from what?”

“Let’s stop trying so hard. What if maybe in two or three years we try for a baby then?”

“What the hell are you saying?” Lorenzo let her arms go. “Two or three years? It’s been two years! We have been trying.”

“I’m saying that I have a lot going on, and so do you. A baby, Lo? You are barely here anymore. I don’t want to be my sister. Stuck between her mean husband and some bratty kids.”

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed on her. His nostrils flared. “What are you keeping from me?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“Huh?”

“Are you trying not to get pregnant?” Lorenzo asked.

“No! How? Have I ever done anything? Stop grabbing on me! I’m just trying to talk to you.” She stepped closer to the door. Her heart beat so fast it staggered her breathing. She put her hand to her head and tried to calm herself. Her husband tracked her with his eyes. His face was flushed with anger. He didn’t believe her.
Oh God, what if he found out?
She was so stupid to run off at the mouth. The man was Catholic, Sicilian; if he discovered she was on birth control pills her marriage would be over.

“I confess,” she said. “I admit that I haven’t been praying for a kid. And maybe my attitude is why we don’t have one. Okay? I’m sorry for being a bitch about it. You put so much pressure on me. And Zia is constantly asking me if I am pregnant. Do you ever stop to think of how it makes me feel?”

Lorenzo stared at her. Marietta held his stare. She held her breath. She waited for what felt like an eternity for him to react. His scowl softened. He managed a weak smile.

“It’s my fault too, Marie. I know you,
cara
. You can’t be forced or bullied into anything. I should listen more. Come here.”

Relieved, she went to him. He brought his arm around her shoulders and held her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head. “Do you know what having a little Marie would do for me? How sane it would make us both?”

“You’re the crazy one not me!”

He smacked her ass.
“Dio mio!”

She kissed his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m enough for you, Lo. I can love you. Protect you. I don’t want to share you with a kid.”

Lorenzo chuckled. “Marie? Woman, the things that come out of your mouth! Of course you want my child. What woman doesn’t want to be a mother?”

Marietta rolled her eyes. She held tighter to him.

“Give me a baby. It’s what I need,” Lorenzo insisted. He loosened his hold on her and lifted her chin. “Stop wishing against what will naturally occur between us. We will have children. As my wife you will give me sons. Three. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said bitterly.

He kissed her and she loved the kiss. Having a child was inevitable. No matter what, she’d not be able to put it off much longer. Maybe this summer she’d stop taking the pill. Maybe then she’d be willing to stomach the idea. For now, she’d take care of him and make him happy. Her way.

“Let’s go.”

“I need to get my purse. I left it in Mirabella’s office,” she said.

He nodded and she walked him out of her office. Lorenzo had never visited Fabiana’s. Even when they visited Milano over the years and she had business to conduct, he took no interest. She led him to Mirabella’s office and then walked over to her sister’s desk to get her purse out of the bottom drawer.

“I’m ready,” she said checking in her purse for her things. When he didn’t answer her she looked up. He was frozen. Curious Marietta’s head turned to see what he stared at. It was the larger than life portrait of Fabiana and Mirabella.

“That’s her? The one who died,” Marietta said. She studied her husband’s reaction. It was as if the woman had risen from the dead. He looked away and ran his hand down his face.

“What? Seeing her upsets you?” she asked. Her voice was tight with jealousy.

“I didn’t expect to see that.” He said. He put his hands to his waist and turned away. Marietta couldn’t believe how affected he was. She glared back at the portrait.

“She wasn’t a fucking saint, Lorenzo. I wish you all would stop acting like she was!” Marietta said.

He cast a look at her from over his shoulder. “No, Marie. She wasn’t a saint. But I did love her. And she died because of me.”

“So! People die because of you all the time!” Marietta said.

Lorenzo’s eyes stretched. He looked physically wounded. She didn’t mean to be so heartless, but she hated Fabiana. She hated her, and now she knew why. Before she came Fabiana was the center of Mirabella and Lorenzo’s life. She felt second best next to her memory.

“She wasn’t perfect, Marie. But she did want a life with me. You two are nothing alike. She couldn’t wait to give me children,” he said and walked out.

Marietta’s mouth fell open. If he had struck her it would hurt less. She turned her angry gaze back to the portrait. She was grateful she didn’t have a knife in her hand to shred it. Wiping at her tears of frustration she went after her husband.

**

Kyra wished Jamie wouldn’t drink. Especially around their co-workers and the Donna. It was embarrassing. She had to ask Etienne to see Jamie back to her hotel. There were last minute changes to be made before the Donna visited their workspace tomorrow. The work would now be left to her.

The steel tip shoe sewing machine-gunned. It’s piercing needle stitched along the seam of the shoe, perfectly binding the sole. She wore a mouth mask to keep from inhaling the fumes she used to polish and soften the leather. Each pair of shoes was hand made by her, Jamie, or one of the ten people trained under them. Kyra picked up the sponge and wiped down the sole to soften the leather and the seams. She’d work on the heel of the shoe next. But first her work needed to dry.

The door opened and closed behind her. Its hinges were rusted so it did so nosily.

“I only need another hour!” she said to her chaperones. It’s what she called the men that Renaldo kept hovering around her. The man never exhibited any sign of jealousy, but he found a way to keep an eye on her in Paris, and in Italy. Her sisters thought it weird. Her father thought it dangerous. Kyra didn’t. She tingled with excitement when the men showed respect to her fiancé. What girl wouldn’t love the protective side of her hero? And no matter how many years passed, she never forgot the night Renaldo’s protective nature saved her life. She loved him.

The Red Bottom shoe factory, under the House of Mirabella’s, was adjacent to Fabiana’s. The front section was boarded up and under renovation. It was going to be a fabulous showroom and boutique. Better than the one they opened in Paris.

The door opened and shut again.

Kyra paused. She removed her goggles and looked back. The lamplight brightened her workstation, but did very little for the rest of the open space. It was darkest near the door.

“Hello?” she cried out.

No one answered. Kyra pulled down her mouth mask. “
Ciao?
Anybody there?” she asked.

The door opened and slammed shut. Kyra jumped. Nothing but silence greeted her. She was certain the door opened and closed twice before. Someone had returned. Kyra stood. She looked around for a weapon, anything. It was instinctual. The dark. The isolation. Her mind replayed trauma from years ago. She should run. She’d be damned if she did so without a weapon. The tips of her fingers connected with something. A very sharp blade lay flat across a cutting board. It was to be inserted into a machine that sliced through leather like butter. It reminded her of a machete.

“Eduardo? Gustavo? Are you here?” she asked. She picked up a towel and wrapped it around the end of the blade. She managed to hold it firm in both her hands.

“Eduardo? Gustavo? Dove sei?”

Silence greeted her. It was possible that her reaction was because of Italy. Kyra and Renaldo talked on many long nights about her move from France. She knew whatever danger he perceived in their lives was greater the closer they were to the man he served, Giovanni Battaglia.

For bravery she sucked down a deep breath and exhaled. Slow and cautious, she stepped around the benches with shoehorns and leather slates piled upon them. There was a noise. It was very faint but she heard it. It came from her left. She swung in that direction. The blade cut swiftly through open air. She found herself alone.

“Shit! Shit! Kyra, calm down. You’re scaring yourself.” She panted. She squinted in the dark. “Who’s here? I know someone is here. Show yourself. Now!”

There was a corner she turned, it led to a door that connected to Fabiana’s fashion house. Maybe it was the door the person had entered. Kyra’s hands were shaking. Her arms ached from their frozen position.

“Gustavo? Eduardo?” she called their names again.
“Dove sei?”

A cool hand touched her back. Kyra screamed. She swung the blade and the person ducked. The sharp edge hit the wall and was embedded into the paint and plaster.

“Renaldo?” she gasped.

He stood upright and chuckled.

“I could have killed you!” she shouted at him. It was a dirty joke to play on her. However, it turned out to be the best moment of her day. She flung herself at him. She kissed the side of his face and neck. “You scared me so bad.”

“
Sono perdonta.
I was closing the place so we could leave. I came in and you were working. I went upstairs to make sure we were alone. When I came back I see my little warrior with her blade, and I have to have her.” He squeezed her ass and groaned in his throat. She felt the massive might of his erection rising between them.

“Oh,” she panted. “I could have hurt you though!”

He took her face in his hands and smiled. “
Ciao,
bella
.”

“I’ve missed you so much!” She touched his erection and squeezed it.

He kissed her brow, and his lips soon found her mouth. It became a slow mint flavored kiss that made her heart sparkle. The man’s breath always smelled divine. She always prided herself on being a very well groomed person, but Renaldo took good hygiene to another level.

“Are you done?” he said when their lips drew apart. “Can I take you home?”

“Home? It’s finally happening. Italy is my home.”

“I’ve waited too long not to have you with me,” Renaldo said.

“Me too. Luca is waiting for us. Your mother called me and said they arrived safely. They are staying with her sister. We can go by there and see him tonight.”

“I know,” he said before he kissed her again.