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“It was not to insult you. I assure you. As I said we had met with you twice, and you informed me that you had no idea where my cousin was.”

Giovanni leaned forward. Angelo Calderone knew better than to openly glare or challenge him in his home. Still the fucker had an air of arrogance about him that made Giovanni’s trigger finger twitch. “You are to never go to the families in the Cammora without me at the table. I am deeply pained that you would do so and not extend me the invite. But I understand these are trying times for your family. In the future, you’d be wise not to make the same mistake.”

“Si.” Angelo nodded.

Lorenzo strolled down the hall in search of Fabiana. He stopped. Silvio Calderone stood outside of Giovanni’s upstairs study. He thought he saw Angelo at the church, but he wasn’t sure. He wiped his hand down his face and knew it best he turn and let the meeting proceed without him. However, his pride and fear wouldn’t allow the sensibility. He approached Silvio. Carlo stepped into view. Lorenzo hadn’t spoken or explained the messy matter of Giuseppe Calderone’s disappearance to his best friend since he was exposed. Now his friend glared at him with open rage.

“I was told Giovanni wanted me to join them,” he said.

“Balle.Bullshit,” Carlo spat the word back at him.

“You calling me a liar?”

Carlo’s brow arched in response.

Lorenzo's gaze cut to Silvio, who smirked in silence. To show the divide in their brotherhood wasn’t something characteristically done by Battaglia men. Carlo felt the same sting of embarrassment because he dropped his head and shook it. “Your funeral.” He grunted and turned, walking off. Lorenzo knew he had to make things right with Carlo, Renaldo, Nico and the others. But one crisis at a time.

Lorenzo opened the door and stepped inside. Giovanni glanced up, and Angelo's head turned. He entered with his gaze trained on Angelo. “Sorry I’m late,” Lorenzo said, he dropped his gaze in Angelo’s direction. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting.”

Angelo Calderone slowly rose from his chair. He leveled a murderous glare at Lorenzo, but he didn’t speak. In fact no one spoke. Giovanni’s expression didn’t change, but he sensed his cousin was not pleased. So he cleared his throat and made a step toward Angelo Calderone. “Salve.” He extended his hand in a formal greeting. “Any word on your cousin?”

Angelo’s gaze switched to Giovanni. “Congratulazionito the Battaglia and Minetti families.” He turned and walked out with his men following. Lorenzo fumed over the insult. When the door closed, he looked to Giovanni to explain his intrusion, but his cousin raised his hand.

“Was it something I said?” Lorenzo chuckled hollowly.

“Non importa. It’s done.” Giovanni waved off his comment. “If Angelo had his doubts before, he is certain of your guilt now.”

“I only wanted to show a united front.” Lorenzo reasoned.

Flavio shook his head in disgust. “So you come in here with that face? Angelo was here to explain the insult of not including Giovanni in the meeting in Genoa. You interrupted that discussion.”

“Because we both know he wasn’t here for that, Gio. He was here as a challenge. For the other families to see his brazen boldness at excluding you, accusing me, then coming to Catalina’s wedding. He’s trashing us all along the coast. It is best for us to show them that we aren’t cowering, and my presence means I’m not guilty.”

“But you are guilty.” Flavio walked around the desk. Giovanni observed them both in silence, the side of his face resting between his thumb and pointer finger. Lorenzo hated the old man. His calm reasoning voice was as toxic as a snake’s bite. He secretly had more control over this family than he and Giovanni combined. Flavio was the problem, not him. “You put a bullet in a man you’ve been hustling with behind the family’s back. You gave us no warning, and now we are on the verge of war.”

Giovanni sighed. “That’s enough. I’m tired of this game. I want you to find Domi and have him and Carlo go and collect Fish. We aren’t waiting any longer for Angelo to strike, or the Nigerians to destroy what I’ve built with the Irish. We will gut Calderone from the inside out and take Genoa, the triangle, all of it. Lorenzo is right, Flavio. The time for hiding is done.”

Mira clapped with the other guests asSignoraClaraannounced the bride and groom’s first dance. Catalina was led to the dance floor on the arm of Franco. Minus her veil she looked like a princess plucked from a storybook. Franco spun her on the dance floor under the tent, and everyone applauded again.

A man’s arms circled her waist. Mira knew instantly the tender embrace was from her Giovanni and relaxed in his hold. After the song ended, the couple stopped dancing but kissed so sweetly many cheered. “It’s our time now, Bella,” he said into her ear. Confused she looked at him questioningly as he took her hand. He began walking her to the dance floor. Mira’s heart seized with panic. “No, we shouldn’t. It’s Catalina’s moment.”

“Nonsense,” he said spinning her out in front of him and drawing her back. He held her close. Mira's arms lifted to circle his neck, and she kept her eyes focused on his. Every eye in and outside of the tent strained to see them, watch them

“People are staring.” Mira said nervously.

“Let them.” His hand slowly went up and down her back, and he held her closer. Mira sighed and closed her eyes, resting the side of her face against his chest. God, she could get used to this feeling.

Her hips moved erotically slow against his. They floated across the floor. Others in the family began to join them on the dance floor, and soon they were in the center of swaying couples. All of it felt right.

Giovanni lifted his face from the inside of her neck and rubbed his lips against hers. She smiled, parting them as his tongue inched inside. It twirled and pushed in deeper. Long after the song ended, they kissed. Until the explosive sounds of applauding broke the trance. Mira looked around to see that the family was clapping for them. She wiped her lipstick from his lips.

“My turn, Giovanni,” Uncle Rocco said tapping Giovanni on the shoulder.

Mira’s eyes grew wide. Giovanni laughed softly. “Listen, old man, you be careful where you put your hands.Capisci?” He let her go before she could object.

Uncle Rocco, barely five foot four, grabbed her in his arms and buried his face in between her breasts, rocking from side to side. Mira, shocked, could do nothing but hold him in return. She rocked with him as other’s snapped pictures. Giovanni stood off to the side with his men. He winked at her.

Laughter erupted among the crowd when the slow tune turned to a fast paced one, and Rocco began to show Mira his moves. This woman was definitely one he could see a future with. He was certain of it now. He would have to think of a way to delay her leaving for New York until he could take her. Turning from the tent he looked up to see Dominic in the shadows, observing. Giovanni frowned with concern. Dominic approached.