Page 114 of La Dolce Vita

"So what?"

"Catalina, sometimes we women have to do the same. We'll find where Armando is vulnerable, and we'll destroy him. Together. But let's be smart. You have to get close to him. Okay? Okay? Sex is just one way. Last resort. But whatever it takes we have to stop him."

Catalina nodded.

Marietta put her hand to her mouth to keep from saying more. Her eyes welled with tears as she looked at Catalina. When Catalina found her voice to speak, she turned away to avoid looking at Marietta. "How do I convince Domi to let me go to Paris? Even if he agrees, he won't let me out of his sight."

"I thought of that," Marietta began.

"Of course, you did," Catalina mumbled.

"Lorenzo said that Giovanni wants to take us to America."

"Us who?" Catalina asked.

"Me and Mirabella, with the kids. And he wants to leave soon. This week I think. If he has to do that, then he needs Dominic here running things. It's the perfect plan. Let's work on Mirabella. Get her to convince Giovanni to let you go to Paris to get away from the drama. It could work. Remember she wants Rosetta to learn the business."

Catalina wiped her tears. She looked down at the phone. She shivered. Marietta went to her and hugged her.

"You're smart, Catalina, you're strong. Armando is no match for you. We can beat him. We just have to get ahead of him. Promise me you will try?"

"Yeah. We have to try."

***

Breakfast –

Mirabella fixed the kids’ plates. Giovanni and Gino had already eaten. He showered and disappeared before they could talk. And now he was a no show at the table. The kids laughed and played with their food. Several of the men were present and ate their bellies full. Zia and Rocco were not. It troubled Mirabella more because Zia rarely spoke or socialized with her. She kept to the children and then to her Bible.

"Morning," Marietta yawned.

Her eyes looked weary, tired. Catalina followed her in the same state. Both of them sat down and barely could look at each other. Mirabella didn't know what they were fighting over. She didn't care. They had much bigger issues if Giovanni was going after Armando.

"Hungry?" she asked the women.

"I'm famished," Rosetta chirped. She had changed into a yellow bikini top and cutoff jean shorts. She put her long raven hair into a ponytail. The first person she approached was Mirabella. She kissed her on the cheek and pranced over to the table. Marietta didn't look her way. Catalina rolled her eyes, but both sat silent.

"What's the matter?" Mirabella sat down. "Someone going to fill me in?"

"Catalina was telling me about Sicily," Marietta answered. Catalina looked up. Rosetta stopped pouring her coffee and stared at the women. "Looks like the men have decided to go to war with the Mafia."

The other men at the table eating picked up their plates and left. It was clearly going to be a women's discussion, and they wanted no part of it. Mirabella clasped her hands together under her chin. "I thought our brother and my husband had made peace."

"There can be no peace," Catalina said softly. "They've hated each other since they were kids. Nothing will ever change that."

"War? Does everybody know what that means?" Rosetta asked. "We won't be allowed back into Sicily. Mondello. Our family home in Palermo and Bagheria will be gone. The Mafiosi will take it. People will die. Our people. Anybody friendly to the Battaglias will die. And they will hate us for it."

"We get it. We know what war means!" Catalina snapped.

Mirabella sighed. "Does anybody know why my husband has done this? Marietta? Has Armando provoked him?"

"Me? You think Lorenzo confides in me? He doesn't tell me anything. From what I know Giovanni wants the territory. He intends to expand the business."

"That makes no sense," Mirabella shook her head no.

"It only has to make sense to Giovanni," Catalina corrected her. "For the record, it doesn't matter what my brother’s reason is. If he has already declared war on the Mancinis, then it's done. What we need to talk about is whatwedo next."

"She and I have an idea," Marietta said.

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