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“My beautiful Mary, a Sicilian name given to precious little girls by their father. Your father Sicilian?”

Mira laughed. “Do I look like my father was Sicilian?”

“You look beautiful,” he responded. “And your father thought so. He named you my beautiful Mira. You were precious to him.”

“Thank you for saying that.” Mira smiled. She felt precious every time she looked upon that tiny bracelet. Now its loss burned a hot ache into her heart. Giovanni’s hand went to her lower back, and he gently held it there. To her surprise it was a comfort. She glanced at him, and he smirked down at her. They fell again into a comfortable silence. She stopped at a painting and smiled. “This is lovely. Who was the artist?”

“Morandi.”

“It’s bright. Lights the entire hall with the oranges and purples.”

“I have a few of his originals at our family home in Chianti.”

“Really?”

“Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

Mira smiled and started walking again. “Maybe.”

Stopping, he pointed. “Here we are. Yourroom. Should I come in and turn down your sheets? Wash your back, make you comfortable?”

The laughter felt free of tension and genuine when it escaped her. Despite her inner voice warning her to keep things light, she was beginning to like her charming suitor. She glanced over to the man positioned at the end of the hall with his hands clasped in front of him, standing stoic. The tall gentleman wore a gun tucked in the front of his pants. He looked at her and then moved his eyes away quickly.

“What’s with the men all over the place with guns? What kind of business do you do?”

He looked over at the man then returned his gaze to her. “Occupational requirement,” he said softly.

“So you are some kind of thug?” she asked frowning.

Giovanni only smiled. “No, Mira. I’m not a thug, just a business man with a gun.”

She turned up her nose. “Good night,” she said turning to leave. He grabbed her hand before she could escape him.

“Will you give me an opportunity to show you who I am without prejudice of who and what you think I am?”

“I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s okay, I’m a big boy. I can handle it. I only ask that you let me show you a nice time for a few days. You might enjoy yourself.”

“Okay,” she said letting go of his hand, going inside of her bedroom door.

Giovanni watched her close it in his face and wiped at his jaw, wishing she’d chosen to invite him in.

“Boss?”

Looking back over his shoulder, he saw Dominic appear from the top of the stairs, coming toward him, and he stared irritated “What is it?”

“Just wanted to let you know that all is handled. Don Calderone would like to meet.”

Giovanni nodded. “I don’t want Lorenzo involved in this meeting.”

“Understood.”

“And where is Catalina?”

“I’ve sent her back toMelazana,” he said referencing the house that Giovanni owned in Sorrento, which was south of Napoli.

“Send word to Calderone that we will meet tomorrow.” He entered his room and closed the door. He needed a cold shower.