La Sposa (27 page)

Near the band was a table covered in white
linen, with a blue floral centerpiece and sparkling flutes of
champagne set for them alone. Giovanni pulled out her chair and she
took a seat. “We won’t stay long,” he announced over the loud
music.

“
I was hoping you would say
that.”

Lorenzo nodded to Renaldo, who immediately
left Marietta’s side. He stepped inside the pew and took a seat
next to her. For a minute she didn’t speak. He felt her staring at
him. “That was Mira Ellison. Wasn’t it?” she asked.

“
She’s now Mira Battaglia,” Lorenzo
replied.

“
I’ve seen her on the news. The
designer, who faked her death, reappeared in Italy with a mafia
family. I didn’t realize it was the wedding we’d be
attending.”

“
Problem?”

Marietta didn’t answer.

“
It’s time for my family to meet
you. Are you ready?”

She shot him a glare. Her pretty eyes were
fierce, distrustful slits. “Why am I here?” she demanded. “And
under guard too? It’s not necessary. I feel like a freak the way
these people keep staring at me, whispering about me.”

“
You’re here because I want you to
be.”

“
Hmpf! I’ll wait for you to be done
Lorenzo, for this to be over. And then we can finish what we
started. Let’s not pretend I want to know these people.”

He eased out of the pew. “You’re my date. Show
some respect.” He extended his hand. “I insist.”

Eventually, she accepted his palm. He tilted
her chin and made her look at him. Marietta did favor Mira, but not
entirely. Marietta had a fire about her he’d never seen in any
woman. He liked that. Smiling, he took her hand and walked her out
of the church.

“
Auguri e figli maschi!”
Another high-ranking man in her husband’s organization said,
kissing Mira on both cheeks. She opened
la borsa,
and he
discreetly dropped an envelope of money inside. So far, she had
twenty envelopes and it looked like there were thirty people in
line to make a deposit. The other guests were stacking their gifts
on three tables. A constant parade of well-wishers offered prayer
for Giovanni to have a son. Did these people know she was pregnant
or was it just expected that she provide him a male heir? Either
way, she found it a bit distasteful, as if inferring that her
daughter wasn’t enough. Mira, however, didn’t let her irritation
show. She sat at his side and smiled, nodded, and only spoke when
spoken to like some empty head idiot. Thirty minutes of the routine
and it became tiresome and boring. Soon her attention began to
wander to the others. Only fifty of Giovanni’s inner circle was
allowed the honor to speak to them directly; and Giovanni seemed
intent on seeing each one.

It was during this custom, her focus zeroed in
on the end of the line. Lorenzo’s appearance caught her off guard.
Everything about his red rimmed eyes and bruised face was
troubling. But he was at Giovanni’s side, and that was what
mattered.

Now Mira wasn’t sure what to make of what was
before her. It wasn’t that he’d chosen to bring a date. It was the
woman he had selected. It was a black woman, who with a bit fairer
skin and darker hair, looked strikingly similar in height and
features to her. Mira frowned at them. The woman noticed her
staring and frowned back. It didn’t take long for Mira to sense she
was American by the way she dressed.

“
Ma-ma?” Eve said, hitting her
hand. Mira blinked out of the stare-off between her and the woman
and noticed her daughter wanted to taste the twists of fried dough
powdered with sugar. The ladies referred to it as
wanda
.
Mira indulged her daughter, pinching off a sample and feeding it to
her. Another man, tall and handsome with a dark serpent-like stare,
and a smile with nothing behind it, stepped forward. He
complimented her on her beauty. His heavy Italian brogue sharpened
the words he forced in English. A shiver of dislike went through
her. It wasn’t obvious to Giovanni, but there was something
predatory in the way his gaze swept her face and briefly lingered
on her breasts. He said his name was Santo Kimmatore. Mira tried
hard not to show any reaction, and again feared for her husband.
How in the hell could he keep company with these dangerous men and
remain the one they bowed to? How many of them stood in line with
deceptive smiles and daggers behind their backs? And how dangerous
was Giovanni to garner and maintain respect amongst these men? The
man she loved was kind, caring, and loving. The one showing respect
to them now, had the likeness of a killer.

Who did her husband become for the
Camorra
?

She glanced at Giovanni. He smirked up at the
man speaking in Italian, a quick retort that made several in line
laugh. Mira accepted the envelope of money, wishing this man and
the three behind him would move on. She returned her attention to
the woman accompanying Lorenzo and was met by another unwavering
stare. Mira chose to look away.

“
Donna
?” Cecilia whispered
in her ear. “Zia wants to feed Evie. She plans to change her too.
She insists I collect her. May I?”

Mira nodded and passed Eve over to Cecilia,
who set her on her feet and took her hand. Together, they walked
away from the table. After another six people paid respect and gave
her envelopes of cash, Lorenzo stepped up with his date, holding
her hand. Immediately, Mira could see the smile fade from
Giovanni’s face. He frowned at the stranger and then looked to
Mira.

“
Mira, Gio, I want to introduce you
to Marietta.” Lorenzo said.

“
Salve
,” Marietta said in a
soft, yet dry tone.

“
Hello. Nice to meet you,” Mira
answered. Giovanni looked her up and down and didn’t speak. Mira
cleared her throat and turned her attention to Lorenzo. “Happy
belated birthday, Lorenzo. I didn’t know yesterday was your
birthday. We missed you.”

He smiled at Mira. When she looked to his
date, it was apparent his birthday was news to her. Her eyes
stretched with surprise. All the while, Mira could sense her
husband’s disapproval of her presence by his steely silence. Mira
had to ask the question burning on her tongue. Up close, Lorenzo’s
scratches and bruises looked painful and fresh. “What happened to
your face?”

Lorenzo touched his jaw and smiled. “Lover’s
spat.”

Mira was taken aback. Did he mean she had done
this to him? She looked Marietta over again with alarm. The woman
didn’t take well to the joke, or whatever the hell the meaning was
behind Lorenzo’s response. Without a word of denial, Marietta
turned and walked away.

It was abrupt.

And for an instant, no one could believe her
brazen attitude.

“
Women, they can be difficult.”
Lorenzo shrugged. He leaned in and kissed Mira on both cheeks. He
too passed her an envelope of money, which she accepted. “I’m very
happy for you both.” He turned and went after her. Mira watched
Lorenzo and the woman disappear out of the tent.

“
That was strange.” Mira said. “Do
you know her?”

“
It’s Lorenzo’s idea of a joke.
Bringing her here. Disrespecting me.”

“
I don’t think he was trying to
disrespect you, honey,” Mira said, rubbing his thigh.

“
Of course he was! He brings that
woman to my wedding, looking the way she does.”

“
How does she look?”

“
Like you,” Giovanni
frowned.

“
No she doesn’t. Why, because we’re
both black?”

Giovanni grumbled something under his breath.
Mira forgave him. She leaned over and kissed his jaw. “I’m not the
only black woman in Italy. Besides, if she’s his friend then he has
a right to her company. Which by the looks of him, isn’t pleasant
at all.”

“
Lorenzo è un malducato
,” he
said through clenched teeth, his eyes now angry slits.

“
Senti!
Enough talk about
Lorenzo. Don’t go sour on me. Okay? It’s my wedding day and you
promised to be on your best behavior.”

Giovanni looked over to her and the hard glare
dimmed. A half smile curled the corner of his mouth. “Dance with
me.”

“
Yes.”

He rose and helped her from her seat. Mira
accepted his hand. When they walked out to the dance floor, the
band switched the tempo. A lovely melody played. Giovanni spun her
out then brought her back into his arms. It was the only place in
the world she desired to be. Her arms were stretched up to reach
his neck and her hands clasped behind. He held her by the waist
with his gaze locked on hers. She swore the man’s eyes could go
from blue ice when angry, to a smoldering violet blue when he was
hers. Whoever said the eyes were the window to a man’s soul
obviously had spent time in the arms of a man like her
Giovanni.

“
Where is my honeymoon?” She
asked.

“
Close,” he leaned in and brushed
his lips across her brow.

“
No hint?” She said, under a soft
sigh.

“
Closer than close,” he answered,
kissing down the side of her face and under her neck. Mira opened
her eyes and looked over her shoulder. The same dangerous men, who
had showed so much respect earlier, leered at her. She closed her
eyes and blocked all others out.

“
You okay?” Giovanni asked. He drew
back, frowning. “You’re trembling?”

Mira forced a smile. “Everyone’s staring,” she
whispered.

Giovanni looked around, as if just noticing
where they were. His gaze returned to her, accompanied by an amused
smile. “They should look. I want them all to see the woman who has
changed me.”

“
Hmm, okay.” She rested her face to
his chest and swayed with him. “It doesn’t matter where the
honeymoon is, Giovanni.”

“
No?” He asked.

“
As long as I have you and Eve, I
don’t care where we go.”

“
Evviva gli sposi!”
shouted
several people from their tables with their glasses raised. Mira
giggled.

“
Yes! Long life to the bride and
groom.”

“
Don’t follow me.”

Lorenzo caught her by the arm. Marietta tried
to yank free but his hold was too strong. Forced to stop near the
church, she glanced around at the others staring. There was only so
much of this she would tolerate.

“
Stop running from me,” he said in
a calm voice. The sun behind his head made it hard to focus on his
face. So she squinted instead.

“
I get the joke, okay. It’s not
funny.”

“
What joke?” Lorenzo frowned. His
gaze softened but only by a fraction. She caught a hint of
sincerity in his voice.

“
That, back there. Introducing me
to your cousin and his black Barbie. What am I your new
toy?”

Lorenzo let go of her arm. “Mira? She’s a
sweet girl, you’ll like her.”

“
I saw the way your cousin frowned
at me, and how she stared at me. You did that on
purpose.”

“
You said you recognized her from
the news reports. You know I’m a Battaglia. This is my family, you
knew what to expect.”

“
To be honest, I didn’t give you or
these people much thought beyond forty-eight hours ago. And I don’t
appreciate being used as some pawn to get a rise out of your
cousin. This was a mistake. We can’t help each other.” She turned
and he caught her by the waist, drawing her back.

“
We had a deal, beautiful. Now, you
can either wait in the car with my men until the celebration ends,
or you can be a bit patient and indulge me in this. It’s been quite
some time since I’ve brought a woman home to meet the family,” he
chuckled.

Marietta shrugged her way out of his embrace.
He was pissing her off by the minute. “I’m leaving!”

Lorenzo put his hands up. “Okay. I confess. I
did notice that you favor her. And I knew it would piss my cousin
off when I introduced you. But what happened in Milano wasn’t
planned by me,
Cara
. If I recall, it was you that set this
all in motion.”

Marietta put her hand to her forehead and the
other to her hip. Maybe she misinterpreted the reaction of the
newlyweds. She certainly had colored her agreement with Lorenzo
with her own desires. Who exactly was playing who here? Besides,
she never really gave a damn what people thought of her. “Why
didn’t you tell me yesterday was your birthday?”

Lorenzo dropped his hands in his pants
pockets. “I don’t celebrate my birthday. Ever. But I did last
night, with you.”

The confession weakened her. She lowered her
hand from her brow. She started to challenge his answer, but just
as strongly, she felt a sense of vulnerability about him that
wasn’t present when she held a gun on him. “How much longer do we
have to stay? We should, uh, go and talk about this. In
private.”

Lorenzo lifted her chin. “
Mi piaci
moto
.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I really like you.
Sei irresitibile
.”

“
You are a strange man,” Marietta
said in a soft tight voice.