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“Yes. The best vino in Chianti.”

“Sounds nice. Fabiana would love to see it.”

“We will do the tour alone.” Giovanni said.

Mira glanced up at him. She could insist but what would be the point? Fabiana shared with her that she and Lorenzo were serious. She seemed excited about time with him on their last days of vacation. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Lorenzo probably has plans for her. I love that girl with all my heart, but she is so willing to just go with her feelings in everything. It amazes and worries me.”

The car slowed to a stop before tall gates. Men stepped out in front of the headlights. One spoke to the other, and they stepped aside. The car rolled along. “So this is it?” she leaned forward trying to see the details of the estate looming before them in the dark. She could tell it was huge. Block shaped with tall walls, it reminded her of a castle.

“My great-great grandfather and his brothers restored this place. Over two centuries we’ve added and improved upon it. This is home.”

Giovanni was out the door waiting to help her step. The evening felt unnaturally cool, so to have him draw her close felt nice. The cloudy sky shielded the moon, but still the night wasn’t as dark as she would think it to be. The massive walls of the castle-like estate surrounded them from all sides.

Soft laughter from her friend echoed in the night. Men were emerging from cars. She couldn’t count how many. It felt like more than a small army. One of his men hurried ahead of them. He opened and held the door. Mira walked at Giovanni’s side. She crossed the threshold into the warmed over golden interior of his home. She imagined the place had so much history ghosts floated along the halls. She turned to share her joke then froze.

A stunningly attractive brunette in dangerously high spiked heels strutted straight for them.It was her.The young woman she saw him with at the fashion show. She was even more beautiful up close. Thanks to the elevation of her shoes she stood closer to five feet seven. She wore tight black pants and a red halter-top, which smoothly defined her slim waistline. Her hair was waist length with thick spiral curls framing her delicate features. Never had she seen a woman so striking. With skin a dark olive tan and expressive dark brown eyes under long lashes, she exuded femininity.

Was he kidding? Was this his woman?Intense anger swelled in her chest. She glanced over to Giovanni who looked like a man in love. The young woman rushed him, nearly jumping into his arms. She spoke so fast in Italian Mira had no hope of understanding her. Giovanni held her to him with one arm and kissed her brow and cheek affectionately. He released the brunette but cupped her face speaking in a low voice to her. Everyone waited as he rubbed his nose over the young woman’s like a father would his daughter.

Fabiana shot Mira a puzzled look. The brunette turned and her grin dimmed as shock registered on her face. “It’s you!” she pointed a finger at Mira. “I love you! I buy you. I mean I buy your clothes. Giovanni brought you here for me!” Without warning Mira was seized. The woman hugged her neck chokingly tight. “You will design my wedding dress! Oh thank you Lorenzo! Giovanni! Thank you so much! Mira Ellison will design my wedding dress!” she squealed.

“Mira, I want you to meet my sister Catalina.” Giovanni made the introduction.

Sister? He has a sister? Now he tells me?

“It is so nice to meet you.” Mira smiled graciously.

Catalina yanked her by both hands. “Giovanni purchased tickets to your show in Milan. He let me pre-order from your Fall line. I want the dress Zenobia wore. I will wear it at my reception. I love it!”

“Grazie,” Mira said overwhelmed by her energy.

Giovanni rubbed his sister’s back as if to calm her hyperactivity. “This is Fabiana.”

Catalina extended her hand. “Ciao, nice to meet you,” she said. It was hard to miss how both Giovanni and Lorenzo looked at Catalina with love. She was a princess among these men, and Mira imagined she was equally as spoiled.

“So you’ll definitely be staying here with us atla Melanzana?” Catalina spun to her brother. “I can call Zia to come sooner! We can start working on the dress immediately. Can we have the lower level to ourselves?”

“Catalina. Quiet now.” Giovanni touched his sister’s cheek. “Mira did not come for you. She’s not here to design some dress.”

Confused, Catalina frowned at them both. “What are you saying?”

“She’s my guest. She’s here with me.”

“You? In our home?”

Giovanni’s brow arched. Catalina looked over at Mira and the light of admiration dimmed in her eyes. She could feel the frost in her glare.

“Oh. I see. Welcome.”

His hand extended to Mira. “It’s late, come with me.”

Awkward as it was, she accepted. She could feel Catalina’s eyes on her.

“Wait. Giovanni you just got home! I want to talk to you. Domi said you would discuss the wedding!” Catalina shouted after him. She hurried to the bottom of the steps. Mira glanced back and noticed the raw look of anger on her face.

“In the morning.” He continued up the stairs. The villa of the Battaglia’s was so grand her mind could barely catalogue much of what she’d seen before they entered the hall that led to his bedroom. She observed the family crest for Battaglia carved into the wall along the stairs and walked silently at his side toward two tall mahogany wood doors that were drawn shut. His hand fell from hers. When he opened the doors to a room the size of her first apartment, her breath caught in her throat. The bed of course was covered in dark chocolate bedding with soft golden colored sheets folded over it, and throw pillows in a deep magenta were mixed in. A large Persian rug lay in front of it. Giovanni walked to the left and opened doors that led to a private balcony with a long awning over it.

“My tour? It ends here?”