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Giovanni walked over to his closet. He threw the doors open. Her dresses hung on the hangers and her suitcases were pushed to the back of the closet. He went to the drawers and saw her undergarments in place. There had been no packing. If he hadn’t been so full of guilt and loneliness for her he would have noticed these things last night. Sucking down deep breaths he now understood what the old man had done. “FLAVIO!!!” he yelled.

****

“I’m sorry you couldn’t return to your condo,” Kei said setting a fragrant cup of black tea in front of her. She glanced up at him. Kei was still strikingly handsome, even in his Princeton t-shirt and long shorts he looked like a dream. Tall, athletic, he had long blue-black hair that he wore combed back from his face and bound in a leather band at his nape. His deep olive skin and magnetic dark eyes made his features appear to be more Native American than Chinese. And when he wore a suit, his quiet, yet serious nature commanded such an air of authority most women, gay or straight, stopped to look his way.

Suddenly she saw the similarities between Kei and Giovanni. Both men were powerful, respected, complicated, and controlling. Both men overwhelmed her with their desires and needed to possess her. And with both men she felt lost yet protected in ways that frightened her. Why did she constantly gravitate to these kinds of men?

His touch was different than Giovanni’s. He cupped the side of her face with a bit of hesitance. Mira understood. Their parting words had been strong. He accused her of not knowing true love. She accused him of only wanting to control the woman he loved. Now she was back with him, and again she was falling into the routine of being his.

“Does it hurt? Your face.” He asked.

“No. Not anymore. I must look a sight.” She lowered her gaze. Kei lifted her chin with his finger hooked beneath. Her gaze was forced to lift and meet his.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful to me, Mira. I’ve missed you.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then lowered his face and tried to kiss her lips. She turned away from the kiss, and instead he pressed his lips to her cheek tenderly.

“The reporters are everywhere. Even at my office. You’re safe here.” Kei drew back the chair and sat down. “I need your permission to handle your answering service. To get my assistant involved to screen your calls and take care of them. They are leaving messages at all of your offices. Your staff is overwhelmed.”

“Fabiana handled the press. She would know what to do.” Mira said hollowly, staring down at her tea.

Kei stroked her hand. “Let me put my people on it. We’ll deal with it. Make sure the story sticks.”

Blinking out of her stupor, she looked up at Kei curiously. “Sticks?”

“I know Fabiana didn’t die in a fireworks accident. At least not the one you told me. It was a bomb. Wasn’t it? At the Battaglia’s?”

“How did you…”

“You and Fabiana have been seen in Bellagio with the Battaglia’s.” He put the STAR magazine on the table. She glanced down to a picture of her at thevilla Melzi,an image of them walking hand in hand with her skirt hem ruined by the water she’d fallen into. She blinked in disbelief.

“Sweetheart, you’re an even bigger celebrity now after your show in Milan. You have the biggest fashion runway show of your career and then disappear. Of course they were looking for you. How far did things go with this man?”

“I don’t want to talk about Giovanni with you.” She picked up her tea and sipped it.

“I made some calls when you were gone, to learn more about the Battaglia’s. I have friends in Italy too, Mira.”

“Let it go,” she sighed.

“He’s a criminal. A powerfully dangerous man. What were you and Fabiana thinking?”

“Stop it!” she shouted.

Kei sat back with a scowl on his face. She never raised her voice to him in anger. He never raised his voice in anger to her. It was not the nature of their relationship. Arguing with him was always a discussion. No matter how passionately they felt about something, they found a way to talk to each other. Right now she wanted to throw her tea in his face. She wanted to scream and kick until all the pain in her chest lessened.

“You should have never gotten involved with them.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she asked calmly. “My best friend is dead. I saw her die in a car explosion.” She looked up to Kei. “It got out of hand, out of control. I don’t know who or what to blame anymore. Fabiana’s dead, and I feel that way inside.”

Kei nodded. “You aren’t dead, and I intend to make sure it stays that way.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me.” Mira looked away. “In a few days, he and I will talk and…”

“No.” Kei said firmly. “The man is in the middle of a very nasty Mafia war according to my contacts.”

“Your contacts? Since when do you have contacts?”

“Mira, I’ve always had them.”

She stared at him and believed him. She’d seen Kei’s friends and the ones he never introduced by name. She just chose to ignore it. As she had with Giovanni.