Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1) (24 page)

BOOK: Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1)
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“You said it was Asperger’s Syndrome that Rafie had, right?”

“Yes.”

“He’s sure handsome like the rest of you.”

“You’re trying to make me jealous, aren’t you? I don’t want you to have eyes for any Montovani man aside from me,” Paolo said.

Kari looked at him and sensed he was trying to be playful, but there was some sort of genuine concern etched into his lighthearted warning. “Please, one of you is enough. So, will Rafie ever be able to get married or have a family?” she asked, smiling at him.

“He’s often requested for marital matches. It still makes sense for other families.”

Kari sighed. “Marriage should be about love, not convenience and contracts.”

“With us, it will be. We’re lucky. But within the families, marriages are arranged,” Paolo said.

Marriage, is he kidding? That’s a conversation for an entirely different time, if ever,
she thought.

“Whatever you say,” Kari said, looking out the window. “You know, it would make my life a lot easier if you weren’t in your position,” she said. “It’s freaky as hell, hard to fathom.”

“Ask me anything you need to. I don’t want to keep secrets,” Paolo stated. “But I do caution you to not ask anything you really don’t want to know the answer to.”

There was silence.

“What?” he asked softly, looking at her briefly before returning his eyes to the highway. Talk to me,” he urged, taking her hand and placing it on the shift knob, just under his own.

“I don’t know,” she said as she bit her lip and shook her head.   

“What don’t you know?” he asked, keeping his eyes focused on the road.   

She rested her elbow on the door and bit her thumbnail. Still holding the gearshift with her other hand, she stroked the side of his hand with a finger. “Is this too nuts? I don’t see how we can make something like this work. What exactly do you do? It’s not all boardrooms and business or you wouldn’t have armed people around to protect you 24/7.”

              Paolo didn’t look at her, as he contemplated how much he should tell her and how. He didn’t want to lie, but for obvious reasons selective exclusion was necessary. The pain in her voice was too much for him to take, though.

              Taking a deep breath, he said, “Sometimes I do things that will probably send me to hell.”   

She glared at him and sighed. “Well, this might have to be where I get off, baby. That scares me to death,” she said softly.     

He nodded. “I can’t let you go.”     

She looked out of the side window. “You know the saying, if something looks too good to be true, it probably is?” Her voice broke on the last word.      

“I can’t let you go, Kari,” he repeated, anguish flooding his voice and revealing the intensity of his love.

“And what if I need to be let go, and can’t deal with all this?” Kari asked.

Paolo didn’t answer her, not willing to accept that as ever being a possibility. She knew too much, but more than that, he loved her too much.

They rode in silence the rest of the way to the church, with his hand still covering hers. When they finally arrived at the old world cathedral, Paolo pulled up to the curb and turned off the car. He sat back in the seat. “I love you, Karisma. Do you believe that?”   

She looked into his eyes. She saw it and she believed it. Nodding, she said, “I do.”     

“Then you have to believe that nothing about who I am, or what I do will ever touch you. And I will never let your career suffer because of me. I told you that I will make sure you are protected, and I will. Always. Last night you said you trusted me. Do you still?”     

She looked at him for a long time. “I trust you Paolo, but we both have to be realistic.”     

He cupped her chin with his hand and pulled her to him. “Marry me, Kari. I may be a fucked up crime boss, but I’ll be a good husband to you.”

“What the hell? 
Marry
 you?” she asked incredulously. “Marry you, Paolo? You’re like Tony fucking Soprano. I can’t marry you,” she said as he squeezed her lips. “You’re trying to make me laugh. Stop. I’m really upset with you,” she said, trying to maintain her composure and sound serious. She swatted his hand from her face.     

“Marry me, baby. We’ll make it work.”

She shook her head no. He moved in on her neck. “Stop, Paolo. No,” she said weakly, aroused.   

“You say no, but your body and your heart say yes. Am I right?” he asked, moving for her lips.

“You’re a thug, a hoodlum. You’re going to hell,” she said, wet already.   

“You like thugs and hoodlums. Speaking of such, I heard on the news that your ex is due in court next week,” he said into her mouth.

                  “Yeah, that’s real romantic. Propose and bring up my ex,” Kari said, closing her eyes.

“So, are you saying yes?” Paolo insisted.

“Not gonna be your moll,” she said, squirming.     

“My what?” he asked, kissing her again. This time she didn’t stop him to answer and they kissed for a long time. When they finally pulled apart he said, “Michael Corleone’s cooler than Tony Soprano.”     

She wrinkled her nose. “A helluva lot sexier, too.”      

He laughed and got out of the car. He saw the paparazzi standing behind a line of his men, who were holding them at bay. He walked around and helped Kari out of the Maserati. Then they ran up the stone steps as the flashes of a hundred cameras snapped away, the photographers behind them eager to get pictures of “Pari” and the biggest story of the year.

 

                                                       
21

 

Karla Montgomery was impatiently waiting for her flight to be announced for boarding. She was finally taking that long-awaited and well-deserved trip to Europe and going on tour with Goldust. She shifted her weight to her other leg and her boarding pass spiraled down to the ground. She bent down to retrieve it and a mocha colored hand was already picking it up. She stood back up and turned around, looking at a man with a perfect smile and gleaming white teeth. “You dropped this,” he said, his grin drawing her in.

She gulped and instantly turned shy. “Thanks, I’m always dropping things, it seems.”

              The man looked at her intensely and she assumed that he was just trying to hit on her, but dang, he was good looking. “You look familiar,” he said, appraising her. “Have we met?”     

Karla looked at him hard. “Not that I recall.”

                 “Hmm, you look like someone. I can’t quite place it,” he said, studying her.   

“Well, maybe you’ll figure it out,” she said. Then she turned around and started walking toward the plane.

Before Karla could take two steps, he was next to her again. “If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re beautiful,” he said to her as she continued on to the entrance.    

“It’s a good thing I don’t mind you saying that,” she said, adding a bit of sass to her response. “And thank you. That’s very kind.”

The loud speaker called out that first class could board and Karla sighed, relieved to finally be on her way. She walked up to the flight attendant who was standing there with her hand extended, and handed over the boarding pass. Then she walked down the small corridor to the plane and took a left, making her way to first class.

Once in the cabin, she sat back in her seat and relaxed. About a minute later, the same man from the line was standing next to her. “It looks like we’re sitting next to each other,” he said casually, delivering that same gleaming smile as earlier.

Karla just nodded and faintly smiled. She hoped he wouldn’t be one of those people who talked all the way from LA to Rome. She could sense that his eyes were on her and she tried not to show how irksome she felt about it so she just turned to him and said, “I’m Kay.”

“Hi Kay, I’m Derek Johnson,” he said, shaking her hand.    

“It’s nice to meet you, Derek Johnson. Now I’d like to ask you to stop staring. It’s gonna be a long flight.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis.

“Whoa, my bad. Sorry about that. It’s hard not to look at such a beautiful woman, especially when she looks familiar. I’m still just trying to place you,” he said with a smirk on his face.

               “Huh. Well I’m gonna close my eyes for a while. I’m not a fan of flying. When I open them, you can tell me what you came up with,” she said.

The plane started to taxi down the runway and she was off, both to Rome and to sleep.

 

                                           ***

                  

Several of Paolo’s men followed him and Kari up the steps to the church, which was tall and had a dominating presence, its gray stone walls decorated by two thick mahogany doors that featured wrought iron embellishments and arched to a point at the top.

“This is a beautiful church,” Kari said, smiling at Paolo and squeezing his arm.

“It’s over three hundred years old,” he told her, kissing her brow.

“Everything’s old in Italy,” she said. He laughed. She turned around and looked at Wolfe and Jamil. They looked as anxious as she felt.

Once inside the church, Paolo guided Kari to Armando’s office. The priest was standing there, waiting and wearing a big grin. “Hey, you two,” he said, walking up and hugging Paolo affectionately and then taking Kari’s hands and squeezing them gently. “Sorry you had to come all the way out here, when we could have done it at home.”

“It’s not a problem,” Paolo said. He had a grin on his face, but inside he was nervous.

“I tried to catch you early this morning before I had to leave for a wedding. I was about to knock to let you know I was leaving, but...” He twisted his lip and shrugged his shoulder at them.

Kari’s face heated up and she looked at Paolo, completely horrified, because she knew why he didn’t knock. Paolo didn’t respond the same, however, and was sporting an amused look. If she wasn’t in church, she would have slugged his arm.

“Stop making my woman uncomfortable, Armando,” he said, and the two brothers howled with laughter. 

                   “Ah, geez,” Kari said, her dark eyes darting from Paolo to Armando and back again. “You finished?” she asked Paolo, who, grinning, pulled her in for a kiss to her wine colored lips. 

“I’m sorry, Kari, I wasn’t going to laugh, but my brother here had this hysterical look on his face, and I couldn’t help it. Why don’t we go sit down,” Armando said.

“Good idea,” Kari said, the nervousness that was inside of her being revealed in her soft, shaky tone.

They walked into the office and each took a seat in the soft, squishy leather chairs.

The room, which had the distinct odor of cigarettes, lacked natural lighting. Yet, the small wall sconces provided the right amount of illumination to an area with walls of concrete and wood. Armando’s desk sat in the center of the room, an inordinate and elegant focal point in a space filled with religious artifacts. Neatly stacked papers and books occupied the desktop, as did a turquoise plume fountain pen. Kari’s eyes moved around the room, zooming in on a marble statue of the Virgin Mary. Staring at the revered Mother of Jesus, the stone saint glared down on the iconic beauty with reproach. Tearing her gaze away, Kari looked back at the two men who favored one another in both looks and mannerisms. Paolo sat down next to her and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, rubbing both her hands in his own.

“Baby, I’m going to let you speak with Armando in private, okay?” Paolo said. He lifted one of her hands in his and kissed it softly.

“You don’t have to do that, Paolo. No secrets, remember?” she said, feeling the weight of her surroundings. She wasn’t even sure she could let go of his hand so she squeezed it tighter.

Paolo looked to Armando and nodded and Armando returned the same nod. The priest chose not to sit behind the desk, but in a chair beside Karisma, placing her in the center of the two.

“I wanted to tell you last night that I consider you to be one of the most talented people in show business. I’m honored you’ve entrusted me with your confession,” Armando said, smiling at Kari. He produced a brown cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips. “I won’t light it,” he assured her.     

“Oh,” she said, eyeballing the cigarillo hanging from the priest’s mouth. “Thank you, Armando, I mean Father. I appreciate it. But you know I’m not Catholic,” she said, genuinely flattered. 

“My brother loves you, so that makes you family.” He pierced her with his lovely blue eyes. All of the brothers had them. They were like their mother’s.   

“Baby, Mando knows what happened,” Paolo told her.     

She breathed in and nodded. “I’ve had a tough time of it,” she admitted to the priest. “My whole center shifted when I...you know. I can’t get it together,” she said swallowing and suddenly feeling lightheaded.      

Armando nodded in understanding. “Are you alright?” he asked noticing her discomfort. Paolo looked at her as well.   

“You need some water?” Paolo asked. 

“Yes, please. My throat’s really dry all of a sudden,” she said.     

Armando was about to get it for her, but Paolo waved him off. “I got it,” he said. He walked out of the office and left Kari there with Armando. A minute later, he was back, offering a bottle of water.

Karisma took a sip and then continued to talk. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. It’s like a stranger’s living in my body. That man invades my thoughts on a daily basis. I’ll never forget his face ‘til the day I die. He wanted to rape me so I could have some moon-begotten baby. Did Paolo tell you that?” she asked. She realized that she had held her breath for the entire statement. It was just so hard to get out!

“He told me,” Armando replied with an impassive face.   

“I didn’t want to kill him. Maybe if I’d made more noise, Wolfe or Amani might have come in. Maybe...” Her words trailed off.

“Karisma, there are times when we do things that haunt us. Things that change us. Things that we feel are the worst things that could ever have happened in our lives. But those are the very same things that become indelibly a part of us, a part etched into our souls. They shape our character and make us who we are. Kari, God didn’t want you to die that night.” He paused for emphasis and then continued. “You see, He gave us the gift of free will. The choices both you and the man who attacked you made were the direct results of that gift.”   

“So, are you saying He wanted that man to die instead of me?”   

“No, what I’m saying is the result of whether you lived or died that night lay directly with the choice you made to save your life.” 

“And the man?” 

“He made the choice to go into a home illegally with the intention to harm someone who was innocent of any wrongdoing to him. His death was caused by that very misguided decision.”

Kari sat back and Paolo took her hand again. She nodded. “Okay. But...my real question is… will I be forgiven? When I stand before God on judgment day, will He forgive me for what I did?” she asked as her eyes filled with tears.

Paolo pulled his chair flush against hers. He handed her the blue silk handkerchief from his breast pocket. She dabbed at her eyes as he pulled her in for an embrace. Then she gave a small chuckle. “Never in a million years would I have thought I’d kill someone. I haven’t even been able to share the truth with my parents. I need them to know,” she said, bowing her head and wiping her nose.    

“If you would feel better having your parents know the truth, then of course, you should tell them. They love you. Have you asked for forgiveness, Karisma?” Father Armando asked. 

“From God?”   

“Yes.”    

“Yes, I have. I ask for it every day,” she said, sniffling. 

“Our Lord is faithful, and through the confession of your sins, you will be forgiven and cleansed of all wrongdoing,” he said as he and his brother locked eyes. Paolo sat back and put his arm around Karisma’s shoulders.   

“This is the question I must ask you, Karisma,” Father Armando said. “Do you believe that you are forgiven?”

She nodded. “I do,” she acquiesced.     

“Then it is time to forgive yourself,” he said. She looked at him and at that moment felt a calm wash over her that was accompanied by an inner euphoria. “Make something good out of this, Kari. You have the means and the voice to be heard by millions. Speak out against stalking. Help yourself and by doing so, you’ll help others, as well. You do this, sweetheart, and I can almost guarantee your tormentor will stop visiting your dreams.”   

She regarded him silently for a long while. “So, reclaim my power, huh?” Then she smiled the widest, most beautiful smile. She reached over and hugged Armando tightly as he held her to him. With sincere gratitude that couldn’t be hidden, she said, “Thank you, Armando. I needed to hear this.”

“Live well, Karisma. You are worthy of forgiveness,” he said. She hugged him tighter and released him from her hold. Paolo’s hand rubbed her back softly and she turned to offer him a sweet kiss. “Thank you, too, my love. You knew what I needed.”

 

                                            ***

                  

Cameras flashed as Father Armando walked Kari and Paolo out of the church. Wolfe was pacing around and impatiently waiting. He walked right up to them on the steps and said, “The media’s here because of the interview that woman gave.”

Paolo pinned Wolfe with a look that warned him to proceed with caution

Karisma looked at Paolo and then at Wolfe’s phone. “They’re out there in force. They want a statement from you,” he continued, catching Paolo’s drift.

“Shit!” Paolo exclaimed.

“I don’t understand; what’s going on? What woman?” Kari asked, looking at how tense Wolfe and Paolo were.

“Kari, it seems that Maria Elena has lost touch with reality and has begun making some false accusations about me,” he said holding her hand. Now Armando was right behind him, too.

“What kind of accusations?” she asked, worried eyes stalking his.

He took her by the arm, guiding her back into the church, near a wall of saints. Exhaling, he held her gaze and told her. “She gave a press conference after the concert last night. She claims she’s pregnant.” She tried to jerk out of his hold, but he was too strong. “She’s not. She’s lying, Karisma,” he swore. “She’s lost it.”

“You knew about this?” she asked accusingly.

“I found out this morning, right before you hit me with the other thing.” He raised his brows at her.

“Is she pregnant?” she asked, crushed.

“I told you no.”

Looking around him, she said to Wolfe, “You have the video?”

BOOK: Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1)
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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