Ti Amo (Battaglia Mafia Series) Read online

  “Everything okay?” Dominic asked coming to the back of the plane. His interruption made Lorenzo glare with fury.

  Giovanni murdered Flavio? The Flavio man was awful, yes, but for him to be murdered because of her was beyond her comprehension. She didn’t want that knowledge. God help her, what had she and Fabiana gotten themselves into when they hooked up with these men?

  “Yes. Everything is fine,” she managed to say though her voice croaked with weakness.

  Dominic barely took note of her response. Instead he focused on Lorenzo. “What about you, Lo? Voi giusti?”

  Lorenzo rose from his seat. He stood several feet taller than Dominic, his head bowed because of the top of the plane. Domi turned sideways to let him out of his seat. “Of course, Domi. Now that I have reunited the lovebirds Giovanni and I are just fine.” He patted Dominic on the shoulder and then pushed past him into the aisle. Dominic took the empty seat next to Mira and buckled his seatbelt.

  “She’s really beautiful,” Dominic said.

  Mira looked down at her baby. “She’s the best of him, and he can’t even take the time to notice.”

  He nodded in agreement. “What did I interrupt earlier?”

  “Lorenzo said that Giovanni’s this monster since we parted. He said he’s killing people without remorse. Is that true?”

  Dominic narrowed his gaze on Lorenzo and Carlo laughing it up in the aisle. “Did he?”

  “He said that Giovanni killed Flavio?”

  “Mira—.”

  “He’s different, Domi. Mean. Hard. I don’t understand what he wants from me.”

  “He needs you, Mira. You are going to have to really help him learn to trust again. He wants to.”

  “The things he says to me. He told me what I did was unforgivable,” she said. “It’s like he wants me and Eve because he feels entitled. I don’t want my daughter caught between us. I don’t want him to use her against me. I’m terrified of my decision to return with you. I’m not sure what to do.”

  Dominic nodded as if he understood. Mira felt his kindness and concern was genuine. Unlike Lorenzo, Dominic seemed to be the only man on the plane with a heart. “I went through a lot too. Contrary to what Giovanni thinks Kei was not my lover. He spent only several weeks out of the year with Eve and me. I spent a lot of my pregnancy alone. That’s why I did those drawings, for my sanity. He doesn’t get a free pass on pain. We both have our fair share of it.”

  Dominic smiled at her. “Tell him what your life was like without him. Can you try?”

  Mira sighed.

  “What is it?” Dominic asked.

  “I can’t go back there.” Mira dropped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. The idea of Melanzana sent her emotions into a dark spin. “I can’t. I can’t. Not yet. I don’t want to see where she died. It’s too fast, too much too soon. I thought I could but… I just can’t,” Mira said choking down her emotion and holding Eve tight to her chest.

  “Gio loves you. His heart will surprise you. It’s in there. It beats only for you and Eve now. Trust him. He knows more about what you need than you think.”

  Mira opened her eyes. When she looked to Dominic she found such kindness and understanding in his smiling face her anxiety melted. He winked. “Welcome home donna.”

  “I’m not your donna,” Mira said.

  Dominic chuckled. “Yes you are, and he’s been waiting a long time for you.”

  Mira’s gaze returned to the aisle and the empty seat next to Giovanni.

  “It’s up to you how this ends Mira,” Dominic said.

  Her throat went dry. She moistened her lips and sucked down a deep breath of courage. She understood what Dominic meant. She unfastened her seatbelt and rose with the added weight of Eve in her arms. She walked back down the row of seats and the eyes of the men she passed all lifted and watched her. She stopped at the empty seat next to Giovanni. He glanced over at her then cut his gaze away. Mira sat silently next to him. Giovanni didn’t respond, but again his hand rested on her thigh for the remainder of the flight.

  The plane landed. She and Giovanni, along with Eve, were the only ones to disembark. And though she remembered a little of Italy, the airport did not resemble the one she travelled through in Napoli. Giovanni reached for Eve who was asleep on Mira’s shoulder, and she passed her daughter to him. Their baby girl weighed a ton when she slept. The air outside of the jet was cold and unsympathetic. Mira worried that Eve wasn’t dressed warm enough. They did leave a colder climate but Sorrento and Napoli were usually warmer than central and northern Italy. She reached and straightened her daughter’s jacket as the toddler fit nicely in her father’s arms. Mira found herself smiling to see him holding her with so much love and pride. When he gestured with his hand for her to accept his she did willingly. A quick glance back over her shoulder toward the plane and she saw the little ladder being pulled up. Dominic stared at her from the window. He winked.

  “Where are we?” she asked after being led to a waiting car.

  “Firenze.” Giovanni answered. He adjusted Eve on his lap so he could hold her without disturbing her comfort. The chauffeured vehicle drove out of the private airport.

  “I thought we were going to your home, in Sorrento?”

  “You aren’t ready, neither am I.” Giovanni glanced over at her. “Am I wrong?”

  Mira turned her gaze to the window. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was correct. From the back of the car she focused all of her attention on the familiar streets and homes that led to the open valleys and hills of Tuscany. The unreal beauty of the outskirts of the city struck her. It was like that of a picture postcard. Again she remembered why this was the country where she and Fabiana had found love.

  “Eve will need a car seat in the future, Giovanni.” Mira said. “You can’t ride around with her in your lap. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  When they veered off the main highway to a slanting road that circled mountainous cliffs, sweet memories surfaced. Like the one where she rode the back of his motorcycle with her arms wrapped tight around his waist. The wind blew at her face, up her thighs, and under her dress as she held to him. Giovanni felt so strong and powerful in her arms. There was irony in her life again. Once more she accepted the parallels between her and his mother. Had Evelyn McHenry made the same journey with her child, unsure of her future?

  After a silent thirty minutes Villa di Luce appeared and the journey neared an end. It looked as it did two years ago, forlorn, abandoned.

  “How long will we stay here?” she asked.

  “Until we are ready to leave.”

  Mira exited the car first and he followed. She accepted the baby bag and waited in the cool evening air for Giovanni to give her the okay to proceed to the cottage. Together they went inside. The driver opened the place up. Giovanni wouldn’t let go of Eve so Mira did her best to uncover the furniture. It dawned on her how vulnerable the isolation could make them. Was it safe?

  “Are your men going to be here with us?”

  Giovanni handed her their daughter. “Take her. She needs her mother now.”

  Mira accepted her child who still hadn’t opened her eyes.

  “I’ll warm the place.”

  “I asked you a question. Is it safe here?”

  He spoke to the driver in Italian. She understood the exchange. Giovanni expected eight men posted all night and three more up a mile ahead to monitor the roads. The man nodded as if it were a normal request. Sadly Mira realized how much she now appreciated the fact that these men followed him wherever he went.

  Giovanni did as promised and carried in logs to warm up the fireplaces. The driver brought in her bags, which were packed with everything she could reach.

  “It’s been a long day. There’s a room downstairs. Take her in there. It’ll warm faster than the one above. I’ll stay on the sofa.”

  Mira didn’t know what to say. She wanted to talk to him, but the look of tired sadne
ss reflected in his blue eyes delayed her from opening old wounds. Their reunion was too fresh and fragile to risk an argument now. In less than twenty-four hours everything for them both had changed. And he was right. She felt bone weary. She wanted to be close to him, but that wasn’t possible either. The longer he stared into her eyes the more they seemed unforgiving. She started past him to the room at the back of the cottage. He put a hand to her arm when she drew near.

  “Grazie, Bella.”

  She glanced up into his strong handsome face, nodded and kept going.

  Giovanni lowered his hand. She walked off to the back of the room, and he exhaled the breath he held the moment he touched her. He found the wine closet and removed a bottle of his family’s Chianti. He needed something to warm him. His woman wouldn’t be an option tonight. Her no sex rule was laughable. But he knew better than to disrespect her wishes.

  At some point by the fire he had fallen asleep. A hand covered his that held a bottle on his lap. Giovanni opened his eyes. Mira stared down at him. Her hair had a brushed straight look to it. She was real, and not one of his many night dreams.

  “Can I have a taste?” she asked.

  Giovanni sat up. He wiped his hand down his face and tried to regain his composure. “I can get a glass.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll drink from the bottle.” She sat on the coffee table before him. He watched her as she took a slow swallow. She stared back. Once done she wiped the excess from her lips with the back of her hand. A vague but sensuous light of understanding passed between them. As hard as it was, it was harder to be so close to one another with the barrier of betrayal separating them.

  “I had every intention of telling Eve about you.”

  “You had no intention of telling me about Eve,” he corrected.

  Mira rubbed the bottle between both hands. She lowered her eyes in shame. Her gaze lifted again and each time it met his he could feel his heart turnover. Giovanni had plenty of practice at not showing his emotions. He made sure she didn’t read any weakness in his stare.

  “You’re right. For that I’m sorry sweetheart. She’s your daughter. You had a right to know.”

  “Fabiana’s death is between us. I can’t change the past, and I’m sure you had other reasons to stay away. What you need to understand is, I love my daughter. No matter my sins, I do love her.”

  “Giovanni, I know you do…”

  “I’m not finished. I won’t be kept from her again, Mira. Ever.” He sat up.

  “I wouldn’t take her from you again.”

  “You sure about that? You didn’t exactly come to me willingly.”

  “You threatened him, and me. What do you expect?”

  “Loyalty! Look up the word! It’s something you know nothing about.”

  Mira sighed. She cast her gaze away and Giovanni reclined back on the sofa cushion. He wished she would return to her room and leave him to his misery. Her gaze swung back to him as if she heard his thoughts.

  “Can we stop with the blame? Can we accept that we both made bad choices and move forward?” she asked in a soft conciliatory voice that could convince him of just about anything.

  “Depends on what you mean by moving forward,” he took the bottle from her hand and turned it up. The dark bitter wine coated his dry tongue and warmed his throat as he drank it down. There was barely a swallow left when he lowered the bottle.

  “I don’t want to punish you or me anymore for our mistakes. Eve needs us. I see how natural you two are together. She’s yours. No one will take her, not ever. So don’t threaten me with your hard looks and nasty remarks. I am trying here, and you’re making it really difficult for me to fathom why I should bother.”

  Giovanni needed space. He wasn’t ready, and what he might say could drive her from him, because deep inside he only wanted to make everyone, including her, feel how miserable he felt.

  “For the record he never touched me.” She put her hand to his knee. Her palm felt firm and warm pressed against his knee, even underneath his pants. He dropped his gaze to her touch and when he lifted it his focus snagged on the front of her V-neck sweater. The crest dipped so low he could see her cleavage and the sparkling solitaire that rested between. Those large brown eyes bore into him and for a brief moment he considered her peace offering. The moment passed.

  “That’s a fucking lie,” he said with teeth clenched. “A fucking lie!”

  She sat upright and her hand fell away.

  “He’s touched you, Bella. No man can be next to you and not at least try. My guess is he tried often, right?” Giovanni glared at her.

  “He and I never had sex.” She stated.

  “Intimacy is intimacy. He was there for you when I wasn’t. He comforted you. He was the man that felt my bambina kick. I lost two years of our lives, and he gained from that loss.”

  “I’m trying to explain, Giovanni.”

  “Who asked you to explain?” He drank the last from the bottle and tossed it to the side.

  She exhaled a long deep sigh. He watched her closely. Mira smiled and rose, she came over and sat close to him.

  “So this is who you are now?”

  “Meaning?” he asked.

  “Cold? Bitter? Hard-headed?”

  Giovanni chuckled. “And dangerous, don’t forget that, Bella. I’m very dangerous. Someone should remind your Chinaman to tread carefully.”

  “Yes, you are the most feared man in all of southern Italy, we all know it.”

  He cringed at the bite of sarcasm he heard in her voice. He asked for it.

  “But you don’t fool me. I know this is all some wall of defense you’ve built around you. You’re using my betrayal to justify hiding your pain. That’s what’s so ironic. You already showed me your pain, Giovanni. When we visited Chianti and came here. Why do you think I gave myself to you? Why I fell in love with you. I see who you struggle to be, and it breaks my heart. You aren’t your father.”

  “No shit.”

  Mira exhaled another deep sigh. “Let’s start again. Evidently something more is between us. You need to tell me what it is. What is it you want to know? Ask me anything and I promise to answer you truthfully. Anything,” she said.

  “I’m in no mood.” Giovanni sat forward to rise. One touch from her, and he couldn’t further the action.

  “You keep pushing me away, I’ll stop trying to stay by your side. Can’t you see I don’t want to go away?”

  He glanced over to her, and she met his stare. Even he didn’t think to challenge her statement. After all she had escaped him once with his daughter, and he knew firsthand how far a woman would go to protect her child. His mother had taught him that lesson.

  “Ask me a question, Giovanni. Anything.”

  “Eve.” He managed to say.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Something. She’s a… baby. When did she take her first step?” he asked, surprised to hear himself say it. He just grasped the first thing to enter his mind.

  Mira smiled. “She was ten months.”

  “That’s early isn’t it?” Giovanni frowned.

  “I think so. I didn’t know much about kids until Eve came along. I sure as hell didn’t expect my baby to stand and run to me.”

  “Run?”

  “Let me start over. One day I was sewing her dress and she was on the floor playing with some rolls of fabric. I glanced over to say something, not sure. I talk to her a lot. I guess because I spent so much time alone after… well I turned my head to say something and she stood.”

  “She stood upright?”

  “Yes. She did. She gripped this chair in my sewing room by the seat. She used it for balance. She did that often. When and wherever she could pull up on something she did. So I laughed and said her name to make her smile. She let go of the chair, wobbled a bit,” Mira demonstrated by sitting forward and extending her arms in the way Eve did to balance herself. “And then she ran straight for me.”

  Giovanni’s eyes stretched in d
isbelief. “It didn’t happen that way,” he chuckled.

  “Yes it did. I’m serious. Her little legs moved fast. No walking, she ran straight for me.”

  Together they shared a laugh. He returned his gaze to the fire, smiling. He could see it all play out the way Mira described. The moment was between mother and daughter as it should be. He felt less cheated to know she hadn’t run to another man she called ‘poppy’. “She could run but not walk?” he asked.

  “Well she could walk too, but toddlers prefer to move fast. You’ll see.” Mira winked. “What else do you want to know?” she again touched his knee. Giovanni rose. His abrupt stand made him a bit light headed but he managed to not drop down again. “Nothing,” he mumbled and headed for the stairs. He left her watching him from the sofa.

  Her face grew hot with embarrassment. Did she imagine it? The brief moment when she felt them connecting was now gone. Mira couldn’t hide how much his rejection hurt. She felt her entire body seize with the threat of an emotional break. It was as if her touch repulsed him. She loved him so much, and he could barely stand the sight of her. Maybe he never truly loved her. She felt like a fool for trying so hard to connect to him. Sadly she rose and returned to the room her daughter slept in. Eve was trapped in the middle of the bed with pillows on either side of her to keep from rolling off the high raised mattress. She lay on her back with her arms and legs flung open. Mira stood near her bed staring down at her. She wiped both hands down her face and let go another sad sigh. Mentally she was done. There wasn’t much left to do or say tonight.

  She walked over to her suitcase and found a pair of panties and nightshirt to sleep in. The bathroom was as tiny as the closet, with just a toilet, shower and sink. Mira turned on the water, and began to undress. As soon as she stepped in the shower she felt relaxed. The tepid water washed over her and the day’s strain drained from her bones and washed away.

  Giovanni returned with a blanket. Mira of course had gone to bed. He was such a coward for running from her. There was no way in hell he could pretend that the last two years didn’t happen. He lived his life by a code, and she had broken more than one of them by her actions. And then came the questions that haunted him since he first heard the news she was alive. The answers he knew she’d give scared him too much to ask. Exhausted he readied to stretch out on the sofa but paused at the sound of running water. His gaze went to the hall that led to the back room and kitchen. Was she showering?