Battaglia Mafia: La Famiglia Part 45

"What do you mean her family history? I never told you her family had a history of hypertension."

The doctor cleared his throat. "Ah, your wife did, signor."

Giovanni narrowed his line of vision on the doctor. He weighed the response for truth and it came up weak. The man went silent. He sweated profusely. "There's more to her family history. Her mother had a stroke when she gave birth. It took her four days to recover."

The doctor nodded. "As I said, we've done everything we can. We have to run more tests and then we may learn more."

Giovanni leaned over Mira and kissed her brow. "Be strong, sweetheart. I need you to be strong."

* B *

Marietta stepped under the pour and the warm pellets of water splashed, soothed, and relaxed her weary body. She felt drained, hollow, and lifeless. She didn't care if she drowned under the tide. There was so much of the day she wished to rinse down the drain.

The image of her sister's agony as she left her bed and tore through her room looking for the baby bracelet that matched Marietta's necklace seared her mind. The sobs from Mira when Marietta put the jewelry side by side for Mira to inspect should have stopped her. Why hadn't she stopped? Marietta stepped under the shower and turned her face up to the spray. Water filled her nostrils, pooled over her closed lids and rained down her face.

"Beautiful," Lorenzo said.

Her head whipped right and she opened her eyes in time to see Lorenzo step inside naked. She turned on him, surprised by his arrival. They had agreed she needed s.p.a.ce. "Not now. I want to be alone. Get out, Lo," she pointed to the door.

He ignored her protest. "I want to be with you," he touched her face. She crossed her arms over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as his gaze raked lower over her body. She was not going to have s.e.x with him. She refused to even consider it after all that he had done.

"Do I have to go?" Lorenzo pouted. "You're my wife. We need to comfort each other."

She laughed. "You're so selfish, Lorenzo."

"When it comes to you, I am selfish," he said with quiet emphasis. "I will never let anyone come between us, take you from me. Ever."

Deep down inside Marietta was glad he insisted. She needed someone to show that they cared. She needed him. She was afraid of her guilt. What her self loathing would make her do next.

Lorenzo reached for the soap. "Turn," he said.

She obeyed and closed her eyes. He lathered his hands with the bar of soap. The touch of his calloused palms as they rubbed down her back was better than any loofah sponge she could use. Marietta slowly lowered her arms. She then lifted her hands and pressed them to the wall. She leaned forward to rinse the soap from her skin.

He touched her. Lorenzo pressed his finger against the dimple in her lower back just above her a.s.s. He ran his hands around and then up her stomach to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He pinched each nipple and pressed his rigid, stiff c.o.c.k between her b.u.t.tocks. Marietta's lids fluttered upon contact. She opened her mouth to deny him the privilege but nothing escaped. Lorenzo brushed his lips over her shoulder and the head of his c.o.c.k nudged deeper. Her eyelids slipped down. He said something to her in Italian. Her mind was too weak to formulate the translation.

"I control your pleasure," he said in English. "And your pain."

Marietta exhaled as he thrust into her. Her nails sc.r.a.ped the damp tiles of the shower. The spray soaked them both. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. He lifted his chest off her back and withdrew before slamming into her. He f.u.c.ked her hard and her body shook with the thrusts. "Sweet p.u.s.s.y," he wheezed. "You're mine," he repeated. She'd ponder the reason for the proclamation. Did he suspect what she had done with Carlo? Did he know how divided her heart was now? If it weren't for the pleasure she'd focus on the pain and uncover the answer.

Her world narrowed down to sensations and not just emotion. His c.o.c.k twitched, expanded, slammed in and out of her c.u.n.t with a rhythmic urgency that sent hot currents of undiluted pleasure through her p.u.s.s.y. Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes once more. Wave after wave of pleasure went from the tips of her fingers to the bottoms of her feet. He continued to pound her s.e.x but this time his free hand tickled her c.l.i.t.

Marietta screamed.

All of her frustration and suffering released in her screams. She hollered until her voice went hoa.r.s.e. She shook with the effort to stay upright, braced against the shower wall with her hands flat as he pumped his hips and she worked hers.

A soft groan fell from his lips. He came over her once more, with his arm circling her waist. He licked the center of her spine. She believed he would truly f.u.c.k her into unconsciousness because his c.o.c.k kept tunneling. The gyrations became harder and he thankfully shot his seed deep into her womb.

Marietta gasped. She weakened to the point of collapse and wept. But he kept her up, stayed inside of her. "I have you."

She surrendered and the world felt right again. He released her, lathered her and himself while she did nothing but cry. He dried her, dressed her in nothing but a thin lace camisole after he ate her p.u.s.s.y while she was pinned up against the sink with her right foot resting on his shoulder. She wept. She smiled. She sobbed hard. When they left the bathroom she was stunned at how quickly he had cleaned the room to the best of his ability when she left him alone to shower. He'd even hung the sheer drape around the bed after she tore it off the rings. And under the covers he refused to stop holding her. Eventually she allowed herself to give him enough forgiveness to embrace him back. She rested on his chest. Lorenzo fired up his cigar and smoked. He blew smoke rings as he sat up against the headboard.

"So he was my father?" she asked and wiped away the last of her tears.

"He's your father," Lorenzo answered.

Marietta stared into the darkness of her room. The burn of tobacco tickled her nose. She poked a finger through a ring of smoke Lorenzo puffed and it broke away into a curvy wave. "He looks sick," she said. "Not what I... he isn't what I expected."

"He's dying," Lorenzo answered.

Marietta closed her eyes to the news. Of course he would be dying. Why she cared for the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who could give a s.h.i.t about her or Mira was beyond her understanding. "He didn't say a word to me. Not a word," Marietta said.

"He's an evil man, Marietta." Lorenzo said.

"You all are," she turned from his embrace.

Lorenzo set his cigar aside. He eased on top of her. He pinned her wrists down and forced himself between her thighs. Out of instinct she wrapped her thighs around his and crossed her ankles over the back of his legs. "Yes, we are the tyranny of men. But I love you. I won't let him or anyone hurt you. Ever."

"You already have, Lo. Don't you understand that?" Marietta answered.

"I'll fix that," he grinned.

"Maybe. But something else will happen and we'll be right here again. Hurting each other."

"No. No. We will get this right. You need to think about giving me a son. I want one," he said. "And a little girl like Evie who sucks a red pacifier and sits with me in my meetings," Lorenzo grinned.

She stared up at him. He couldn't possibly be serious. If she could have her ovaries removed she would. She just might. Kids were the last thing she wanted. She'd be a s.h.i.tty mother. She'd never bring a child into this world to suffer the way she had.

Lorenzo kissed her. Marietta turned her face away from the kiss. "Who was the man with him? The man that leaned on the wall?" she asked.

Lorenzo peppered kisses along the column of her neck. "He's your brother. His name is Armando." Lorenzo groaned as he began to grind his pelvis against hers and stir life into his flaccid c.o.c.k.

"Lo, stop, listen to me." She broke free of his hold on her wrist and pushed at his shoulders. "The maid. She works for him."

Her husband froze. He lifted and his gaze banished all traces of the desire it once carried. "What do you mean she works for him?"

"I think she was trying to give Mira something to make her sick. I found her in the kitchen pouring out tea. She had a powdery substance in a baggie."

"Carmella? That's bulls.h.i.t," Lorenzo moved off her.

"I'm serious! I heard her on the phone. She was speaking in Italian. Talking to a man named Armando. She said she couldn't go through with it. She was telling him stuff about Mira. I wasn't sure at first. I shouldn't have dismissed it. She could have hurt my sister and I said nothing. I'm so f.u.c.ked up."

"Hey," he caught her chin. "If what you say is true you did do something." He pulled her back into his arms and she rested on his chest. "I'll get to the bottom of it. Don't worry."

* B *

"Gio?" Catalina pushed the door open. She found her brother alone in Mira's room. He looked up at her and forced a smile. "Where's Mira, Gio?"

"They've taken her for more tests. We should know something soon."

Catalina entered and was careful to close the door behind her. "Rosetta's here. She will sit with the babies until I return."

"How are they?" he asked.

"Alive. Getting stronger. You missed the feeding. They fed them through tubes, and the little ones ate up. So cute, so sad, Gio."

He nodded. "They will be stronger when Bella wakes." Giovanni wiped his hand down his face. "She'll feed them from her breast. We talked about it. She said it's best for the babies."

Catalina stepped closer to her brother. She stroked the top of his head. "Gio?"

"Yes," he said refusing to look at her.

"Is Lorenzo's wife Mira's sister?" Catalina asked.

Giovanni closed his eyes. He didn't respond.

"Is she? Did you know? Did you keep it from Mira?" Catalina pressed.

"Let's not do this now," Giovanni answered.

"How could you do this to Mira?" Catalina asked.

"I said not NOW!" He looked at her with such raw anger she knew it was the truth. For the life of her she couldn't imagine her brother being that selfish, especially with Mira. He did everything in his power to constantly prove his love for her. Instead of questioning him she knelt before him on her knees.

"Gio? Mira will forgive you. No matter what has happened she will forgive you. But you have to atone." She reached up and touched her brother's face. "We all make mistakes, we aren't defined by them. That's what you would tell me when I was a kid."

"I'm not a kid," Giovanni chuckled bitterly.

"No, but you are lost. When she wakes we do whatever it is to make it right." Catalina rose from her kneel and hugged him. Her brother hugged her back from his chair. She felt his sadness when she held him to her heart. She wished their mother were alive. The only other woman who could help Gio see the good from the bad was her mother. But Madre was dead. So she would have to do the job. And she vowed to do just that.

"Before I go I wanted to give you this." She reached into her pocket and removed a pearl rosary. "It's Mama's. I brought it with me because I heard the twins were born too soon. I want you to pray. Do you hear me? Keep it with you and pray."

He took their mother's rosary and kissed the cross. Catalina stroked the side of his face. She kissed his brow. "Nel nome del Padre, e del Figlio, e dello Spirito Santo. Amen."

"Amen," Giovanni said.

* B *

"Avanti," Mancini said.

Armando opened the door to his father's private reading room. He blinked in surprise to see Marsuvio drink his scotch and walk upright to the desk for another pour. The old man poured more than a swallow in his whiskey gla.s.s and turned with it raised. "Salute!" Marsuvio tossed back the scotch.

It was as if the man had received a jolt of youth after their visit. The energy and drink was risky if not suicidal behavior considering the medication his father was on. "Who gave you that?" Armando demanded.

"Shut the door." Mancini replied with a broad smile.

He did as he was told. His father set the whiskey gla.s.s over to the desk and then walked slow and steady to the reading chair in the room. "I just got off the phone with Buhari. They are running more tests. I was right! She did have a stroke like her mother. I was right all along!"

"And this makes you happy?" Armando frowned.

"No! It makes me right. I knew Gio was wrong for her. That he'd harm her. And this is proof." Mancini's smile broadened. "My daughter can see firsthand how dangerous and inept he is."

Armando sighed and held his tongue.

Mancini's smile faded. "But I'm at fault too. I should have done more to prevent this."

"How could you, father? You gave the doctors the information. You even hired a specialist to work with their doctor. You did all of this behind Giovanni's back. What else could you have done?" Armando reasoned.

"Plenty. Instead of warring with Gio I could have told him the truth. But with Isabella out there, my hands are tied. It doesn't matter now. The damage is done." Mancini leveled his gaze on his son. "You saw your sister today."

Armando rolled his gaze away. "She's not my sister. She's your b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Mancini chuckled. "A feisty b.a.s.t.a.r.d isn't she? Her name is Marietta. I knew it the day she was put in my arms that she was the stronger of the two. A father knows these things!" Mancini wiggled a finger at him. "Just as I know you are weak."

"I'm not going to listen to this." Armando turned to leave.

"Did you see her? She knew who I was." Mancini slapped his chest with pride. "I could see it in her eyes. They've told the women. That means we need to act. I want to see my daughters. I must have access to them now. I want you to meet with Giovanni and Lorenzo to arrange it. Do you understand?"

"They threw us out of the ospedale. Neither one of them are open to it. I could force the issue. If you like," Armando said.

"I can't have the girls come to me by force. d.a.m.n him. No. No. No. Let Mirabella recover. Buhari says she should wake soon. He thinks in two weeks the babies will be well. He predicts it. As soon as she is recovered you meet with Gio and barter a deal. Promise whatever is necessary to make the meeting with my daughters happen."

"But?"

Mancini put up his hand. "Don't worry. I won't hold you to any of it. Giovanni's life is still on the table-after your sisters have come to me. Until this happens you don't strike at Giovanni or Lorenzo."

"And my inheritnce?" Armando asked.

"There will be only one family standing. Mancini," he said. "Tomosino's legacy will be crushed. Every Battaglia man owes me his life, for what was done to Lisa," Mancini smiled. "Giovanni will pay. I promise you this."

"My inheritance, Papa. We need to talk about the will. It can't stay this way," Armando said.

Mancini's gaze lifted. "What about Isabella?" he asked.

"We believe Isabella is in Sicilia." Armando said.

Mancini paused. "She's here? Why are you just telling me this now?"

"I just learned it. She was seen just this morning. I have someone on it. I'll have her soon."

"Good. Finish the job I asked of you and we will discuss your inheritance." Mancini grinned. "Cin-cin!" he said and tossed back another drink. "Have some, it's time to celebrate!"

* B *

The doors opened and Mira was wheeled into the room. Giovanni watched as they transferred her to the bed. The doctor stepped inside. He waited until the nurses finished with the doctor before he asked. "How is she?"

"Her body is stabilizing. We see no lesions or brain damage." The doctor looked back to the bed and Giovanni's gaze returned to Mira as well. "The rest is on her. She's recovering. We must wait."

"You saved her life. You knew how to respond, how to help her. You saved her life." The doctor smiled. The man expelled a deep breath of relief. Giovanni turned and looked him over. "That's because you knew about her mother. Didn't you doctor?"