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“I don’t want a woman to be molded into anything. And I don’t want a wife.”

“You have Catalina back in Sorrento being molded into the perfect bride.”

“Different. And you know it.” Giovanni said his throat dry and his patience short. Lorenzo looked poised to counter and the phone rang. Both of their eyes switched to it. Giovanni observed him while he took the call. There was a short exchange and then he asked the caller to allow him to ring him back.

“Something I should know?” Giovanni asked.

“No. It’s my gift for Fabiana. An artist I’ve commissioned to do her portrait.”

“Thought she wasn’t worth the effort?”

Lorenzo gave a thin-lipped smile. Giovanni narrowed his gaze on his cousin. He could tell when he wasn’t truthful. In that moment he knew he was lying.

“You said thecarabinerihave come. Is it one of our friends?”

Giovanni didn’t bother to answer.

“Should I attend the meeting? It was my restaurant, and Francescowasmy partner.”

“I owned the damn place, and they know it. I’ll handle it.” After another long swig of his whiskey he slammed the glass on the bar. “I’ll leave now. Send Bella my regrets. Maybe I can join you all for dinner.”

“Giovanni?”

He paused at the door.

“My request, to be part of the meeting with Don Calderone? Domi is headed back to Napoli. Will you allow it?”

“No. I’d rather you focus on returning my investment.”

He waited for Lorenzo to challenge him. The flash fire of rebellion sparked in his cousin’s eyes. Instead he nodded his obedience and held his tongue. Giovanni shook his head and walked out.

Once alone Lorenzo picked up the phone and dialed.“Che cosa?”

“We need to meet.” A deep voice rasped on the line.

“Where and when?” Lorenzo asked, checking his timepiece.

“Now. The Denelli place.”

Lorenzo ended the call. He walked over to the closet behind the bar and located his gun. Giovanni would be occupied, and with Carlo and Dominic gone he could manage the meeting with little consequence. So he hoped. Things were getting further out of his control, and Giovanni was too close to the truth.

****

“Where are you?” Fabiana threw her door open. Mira had chosen another green dress. This one had a long skirt that covered her knees, and thin spaghetti straps. She was working on her tangles when her best friend charged in.

“There you are. I saw Giovanni downstairs. He said you were up here.”

“Did he?” Mira tried to sound unimpressed. She could still feel herself tingle between her thighs at the mere mention of the man. How on earth could she face him after what transpired between them?

“I had the most fantastic of times. We took Lorenzo’s yacht out. I met with an artist who took pictures of me. He’s going to do my portrait. Can you believe it? And after breakfast I gave Lorenzo a little dessert. Let’s just say it was everything I thought it would be.” Fabiana plopped down on the bed. “Wait, why are you changing clothes?”

“Long story.” Mira turned on her heel and smiled. “So what’s up now?”

“Nothing. The men have business. Lorenzo got a call, and we had to come back. Is that why your date ended too?”

“Wasn’t a date,” Mira mumbled.

“Oh. Didn’t go well?”