“Giovanni please, Domi didn’t betray you… this is my fault, he tried to stop it I swear he did.” She rushed to him crying. The door opened and Carlo and Carmine entered. Dominic looked over to them and knew they were for him.
Catalina began to scream. “NOOO! You can’t! You can’t dammit!” she shouted rushing to her brother, swinging her arms and hands at him angrily trying to fight him for even considering hurting her Dominic. Giovanni had to restrain her, but was surprised by his sister’s strength. She screamed to the top of her lungs kicking her feet and fighting him.
“Andiamo, Domi,” Carlo said.
“NOO!” Catalina shrieked. She managed to break free. She shoved Giovanni and raced to the door. “You can’t. None of you understand.”
“Enough, Catalina!” Giovanni snapped.
“You go to hell! You can’t kill him! He’s going to be the father of my child!”
Carlo stepped back.
“It’s true. I swear it on Mama, on my life. I’m pregnant.” She looked to her brother with pleading eyes. “Franco was gay. He never touched me. The baby is Domi’s. You can’t kill him!” she shouted.
Dominic appeared as stunned as everyone else. Giovanni felt light headed on his feet. He returned behind his desk and waved Carlo and his men out of the office. He wiped his hand down his face and looked up to Dominic who now held Catalina in his arms. “Get the fuck out and take her with you,” he said in a voice choked with emotion.
Alone, Giovanni closed his eyes and sat in silence. The phone rang. At first he chose to ignore it, but the distraction was welcomed. He picked it up.
“Ciao?” he said weary.
“Giovanni, this is Bonaduce.”
Reclining in his chair, and stroking his brow he felt the tension in his skull spike. “Don Bonaduce, what can I do for you?”
“Angelo Calderone is dead.”
Giovanni didn’t respond.
“It was a fire. A gas lantern I’m told. I suspect something more.”
“Why are you calling me? As I remember it you forbade my men access to Bologna. The bastardo is your problem not mine.”
Bonaduce chuckled. “Sí, I did this. And you Giovanni, what have you done, son? For two years your vengeance has been my fucking problem. Your father would have never pissed on his legacy this way.”
“I don’t need a history lesson.”
“I know your men were here. I know they had a hand in the fire.”
Giovanni sighed. Lorenzo was a royal fuck up to burn the cottage down. There was no denying they had a hand in Angelo’s death.
The Don chuckled. “Took balls to do what you did. I respect it. I believe we should settle our differences.” Bonaduce quickly spoke up. “Are you willing to meet? Come to my home?”
“The timing doesn’t work. I have a family issue and the holidays. Maybe at the first of the year.”
“Maybe? I’d prefer we not wait. I can be in Napoli tomorrow.”
“Let me call you back to arrange a meeting place.”
“Grazie. I look forward to it.”
Chapter Twelve
Inside the parlor with Zia, Mira watched her daughter dance. Zia clapped and tapped her foot. Little Eve stomped her feet, rocking side to side and clapping with her grand aunt. She put her hands on her hips and began working them harder. Mira laughed. Never had she known her daughter to exhibit such rhythm. Zia sang in Italian and clapped in time with the melody of the song. She had possession of Eve’s pacifier in her apron. She seemed to seduce it from Eve every chance she had.
Eve spun once more then shook her little bottom with a serious face. The show helped ease the tension coiling tighter around Mira’s heart. What had Giovanni decided? Shouldn’t Catalina and Dominic have returned by now? Her gaze shifted to the windows, and she stared out at the path that led to Giovanni’s Villa Rosso. She intended to make sure Eve had a Christmas with her father that was special and full of joy. How was she to do that when a man was murdered? Mira looked to Zia who hadn’t spoken a word since she learned of the entire ordeal. She and Rocco had no reaction. Is that how life would be? No reaction to violence?
Eve spun and spun and spun with her arms outstretched, squealing with glee.