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“Thank you, Bella,” he mouthed.

Catalina took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. She glanced back once more and Giovanni winked at her. She returned the wink. Together they ascended the stairs and met Fabiana at the top. Her friend looked at them both curiously. “What’s the hurry?”

“My dress! She will design a new one.” Catalina beamed.

“Wait, I only offered to—.”

“I’m so excited.”

“What dress?” Fabiana asked.

“This way!” Catalina announced. The woman who had to be an event planner shoved her way past Mira and Fabiana heading down the hall after her client. Fabiana gave Mira a puzzled look. “Please don’t tell me you agreed to do a dress for her?”

“How could I say no?” Mira whispered. They both started walking.

“Just say no.” Fabiana whispered back.

Mira chuckled. “It can’t be that bad. She said Donatella sent it.”

“Wait.” Fabiana grabbed her arm before she entered the room after Catalina. “You can’t work on another designer’s dress. Are you insane? You know better.”

Mira sighed. “Let’s look at it. Okay?”

As her business manager, Fabiana never let her do personal designs without going through her. Everything she touched was viewed as a business deal. Reworking another designer’s piece was a complete insult and a definite no-no in the industry.

Giovanni was in no mood for his sister’s hysterics. He walked through his home and out the back doors. In Sorrento he kept his family safe and contained, but the times business called it would always take place in theVilla Rosso. It was the cottage his father ran his business from and the place he took the oath of silence and accepted his role in the family. Necessary matters were only conducted behind those doors. The women knew to never venture in when he and the boys were meeting.

He glanced back over his shoulder. On the third floor of the villa he could see the lights to Catalina’s room flicker on. He hoped the dress matter would be resolved soon and Mira waiting for him in his room when he returned. A wishful thought.

The inside of his two-story cottage was dark and silent. His men patrolled the grounds, but no one had entered before him. He smelled the deep ingrained aroma of his favorite cigars and frequently consumed malt embedded in the walls and floors. It was indeed a meeting place of men. Giovanni flicked the light switch and closed the door. He crossed the gathering room and headed to his office in the back. Above him was a single bedroom and shower. Many nights he chose that room over his own bed.

Not long after he entered his office and sat behind his desk, he heard the outer door open. He lowered as his visitor crossed his threshold. “Did you leave him alive?” he asked.

“Barely.”

Giovanni dropped back in his large swivel chair and gazed up at Dominic. “Will he name you?”

Dominic chuckled. “We made sure he has amnesia when it comes to our visit. This is hard for me to say boss. I chose to question Fish away from Carlo, because I feared. I… I haven’t shared this with any of the men.”

“Speak.”

“I believe Lorenzo killed Giuseppe.”

“And you believe this why?”

“No one, not even the Nigerians would have done away with Giuseppe this way. You know how this works. Sure they would have wanted to send a message, and maybe even teach the old Don a lesson, but Giuseppe played against his father’s best interest. We all know what he was trying to move through the triangle. It just. It doesn’t feel right. And Fish confirmed it. He said Giuseppe and Lorenzo met frequently in Como and often in Genoa.”

Giovanni sighed. “Where’s Lorenzo?”

Why would Lorenzo betray the family this way? For drugs? Did he want to force his hand, force him to make an example of him?

“Fish can be useful.” Dominic’s voice rose above his thoughts. “He can throw the Calderone’s off the scent. He wants to deal. He knows when the old man’s grief takes him down after the body is discovered, the family will disintegrate. Revenge will overwhelm them.”

Giovanni closed his eyes and remembered how revenge almost destroyed his family as well. It was Lorenzo who found the Russians who put the hit on his father. His cousin helped him channel his angry grief into the final act that made him the boss of all bosses. Their Don. He refused to believe that Lorenzo would betray him now or ever. There still wasn’t any proof. His cousin loved his Bellagio home, and he frequented the pussy holes, where men gathered. Calderone’s gambling house in Genoa was one of them.

“Go on,” Giovanni sighed.

“Fish will work with me, only me. Provide me updates and do your bidding. He’ll even put a bullet in Don Calderone if you want it.”