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Giovanni lowered her to the ground. “I couldn’t let you go to Palermo if you wanted so desperately to stay.” He kissed her on her cheeks. Yes, he indeed did this for selfish reasons. His anxiety lessened at the thought of keeping his sweet Catalina near, so he could protect her always.

“I am so happy!” she wept. “Does Lorenzo know? Did you tell him?”

“He knows.”

“I must see him. I love you both so much!”

Before he could stop her she bolted for the terrace. Giovanni walked behind her. She found Lorenzo seated with the ladies and plopped into his lap. Hugging and squealing, it took a moment before she noticed how he winced, and the bruises on his face. Giovanni approached as she removed Lorenzo’s sunglasses from his face. “Who did this?” Catalina shouted.

“It’s nothing.” Lorenzo said.

Catalina rose from his lap. She whirled on her brother with her bottom lip trembling. A hush fell over those gathered. “Did you see what they’ve done to him? Do you see? You punish who ever hurt him, Giovanni. You punish them good!” she said angrily.

“That’s enough, Catalina.” Zia marched over and took her by the hand. She shot Lorenzo and Giovanni a withering glare before dragging a weeping Catalina away.

“Drama Queen! That’s what we called her as a bambina,” Lorenzo chuckled and the men all laughed. Mira stared at Giovanni, and he made a point to not return her stare. Lorenzo rose.

Lorenzo kissed Fabiana. Without a word he walked off the terrace and Giovanni followed, as they circled the building they fell in step with each other. It was his cousin who spoke first.

“How can we get past this?”

“I don’t trust you.” Giovanni said. “I haven’t heard one single reason from you why I should.”

“I’m your blood, your brother.”

“You’re a fucking stain. The only reason why you’re still breathing is out of respect for our fathers. Don’t push me Lo, because I’m not stupid. It makes no sense that you would become Giuseppe’s pawn against my wishes. He either has something on you or you’re guilty of more than you confessed. I struggle with how to not cut your lying tongue from your mouth with every breath you take.” Giovanni stopped. They were far enough from earshot.

“I fucked this up royally. I’m done with the lies Gio. I’m standing here exposed. I respect you, the family, the honor we share. Enemies are circling. Angelo Calderone wants blood, and the Nigerians aren’t going to sit back and be bystanders. You need to trust me again. I will earn it. But don’t cut off my balls. I am the last of your blood.La vostra famiglia. Flavio is not! He will never love you like I do, protect you as I would. You can’t shut me out. Not when we are destined for war.”

Shaking his head sadly in response to Giovanni’s silence he looked away, “It can’t come to this.”

“It has. After the wedding I want you out of my sight. Domi will work with you to see my plans through. But you and I, our brotherhood, it’s done.”

Lorenzo smirked. “So I report to Domi? He’s finally got to be at your side.”

“He’s more loyal than you’ve ever been. I can trust Domi. He may be the only man I can trust.”

“I have one request. I created this mess, and the men will not respect you if you just banish me. They will question your leadership. Let me get into the ranks with them and take out Calderone.”

He nodded in agreement.

Lorenzo turned and walked away. Giovanni released a deep burdened sigh and headed in the opposite direction.

****

The breakfast went off with much celebration, and Giovanni gave a toast welcoming the Minettis into the family, assuring them that this union will make them all stronger. He saw little of his Bella. When he inquired he was told by Zia that she was upstairs working on the dress for the wedding. Soon the gathering of men drew him away. For the next three days he spent the morning and evenings dealing with family matters, and no time with her. When he arrived at night, he’d stand near the bed and watch her sleep in the dark. He would watch the way she exhaled her sweet breath and her chest rose and fell, to the delicate expansion of her small nostrils when she inhaled. Beauty, unmatched by any woman he’d ever dared to share his heart with.

In the mornings Flavio would be at his side reminding him of his responsibilities. He wouldn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. Tonight his return had him aching to see her, talk to her. He only now understood how dependent he’d become on her.

Giovanni was disappointed to find her gone from the room they shared. For a brief moment panic settled in his gut, and he feared she’d left him and returned to her life. After all, he couldn’t possibly think closing her store and moving her things upstairs would bind her to him. She could wake and walk away from him, and he’d be powerless to prevent it. To his relief, she hadn’t done so. His men informed him that she worked on the dress still. He headed to the third level in search of her.

And it was true. She had turned that boarded off section of his home into a little design factory. Fabric rolls, shears, sewing machines and other instruments he couldn’t name were all inside. Giovanni found her standing in front of the dress mannequin. It wore the most beautiful of gowns. He watched silently as she continued with hand stitches to the beaded bodice at the front of the dress. She had only one lamp on next to her, casting her in what looked like candle light. At her feet were cut pieces of cloth and a bag of beads she plucked from.

Tonight she’d chosen a red spaghetti strap slip dress that stopped mid-thigh, and was made out of a stretch material which flattered her figure. Gone were the wrap around dresses he loved. Still this one was just as sexy to him.

The sewing needle dropped. She bent at the waist to pick it up and the skirt rose, revealing more of her thighs, and her ass became a rounded sculpture of perfection.

“Amore mio.”