Page 85 of La Dolce Vita

Carlo smirked. "Giovanni is the one who sent me, you fat fuck!"

Umberto came over to the bed and forced the senator into a compromising position. The woman's face fell over, and Umberto had to prop her up against the senator with her hand on his limp tiny prick.

Mortified, the senator stammered through counter proposals, offering them money, jewels, property. He begged and pleaded. Adara nearly drew her gun from her purse but froze when she saw Umberto remove a portable camera from his pocket.

"No! No! Please!" The senator said.

Carlo shot the lamp next to the bed. It shocked Adara so bad; she nearly pulled the trigger on her gun from inside of her purse. The senator yelped in surprise.

"Take the fucking picture," Carlo snarled.

The senator did what he was told. He posed for one photo, and then others in different positions. Most of them with him kissing and licking the body of the dead girl. His face and hers were in every shot.

"We're done," Carlo announced. She lifted her head and looked at them. Carlo turned and looked at Adara. "Dress the girl and collect everything you brought with you. Including the drugs. Now!"

The senator wept. He curled up into a ball and wept. Adara wouldn't be surprised if he took to sucking his thumb. This was the setup. The dead girl and the pervert senator. When she put the dress on the girl, she could have sworn she felt her breathing. She prayed she was. But she didn't say anything to the men. Maybe having them think she was dead could save both their lives.

After she was done the other man in the room came over and swept the girl up in his arms. To her or anyone who was on the third floor she looked as if she were only passed out.

"Let's go, sweetheart," Carlo said.

She did as she was told but she kept her purse with her. They left the senator weeping on the bed. They walked out of the front door. The senator’s bodyguards looked at them curiously. Everything played out just as it should. Until they reached the car. The girl was placed into the boot of the car. Adara glanced back to see the bodyguards frowning, but no one questioned them. Carlo grabbed Adara by the arm and pulled her to the car.

"You're coming with me."

***

Lorenzo rolled his neck. He slumped back in the chair and watched Marietta. It wasn't too late. The sun had just disappeared from the sky. Still, he felt exhausted from the day. His wife was at the stove. She had some chicken breasts from dinner that she was heating up in olive oil, cut parsley, and tomatoes. When he saw her slicing the block of cheese to add to it, his stomach growled. One thing he could say for certain was that Marietta was a hell of a cook.

After turning it over and seasoning it, she added the cheese on top of the chicken and then transferred the cast iron skillet to the brick oven.

"How was your trip to Sicily?" she asked.

Lorenzo smiled. He knew she'd been dying to ask that question since he found her in their room and he asked her to cook for him. When he didn't respond, she glanced back at him. He winked. It was the only answer he could give. And it was all she needed. She smiled.

"Are we still going to Bellagio, Lo? Just you and me?"

He pushed back from his chair and walked over to her. She was heating some pasta for his dinner. He eased his hands around her tummy and inhaled the jasmine smell of her hair. He closed his eyes to the lovely familiar scent of his woman. "Yes. We will leave in a few days. You and me. No work. No one."

She glanced up at him, and he kissed her full lips.

"I felt the baby kick today," she said softly.

Lorenzo’s eyes stretched. "You did? You sure?"

She nodded. "I wish you were with me."

He rubbed her belly with the cushion of her backside pressed into his groin. She was softest between her thighs. Her stomach was hard and grew harder by the day. Still, he loved the soft and hard spots of her body.

"Will my son kick again? Can you make him?"

"What if it's a girl?" she asked. “I’m serious, Lo. It could be a little girl.”

Lorenzo frowned. He had no use for little girls. He loved Eve, but he knew deep in his heart Gio would have to admit that he wished his sons were born first, not last. He didn't, however, share that with Marietta. She was very sensitive these days.

"I love our baby. No matter."

"Liar," she chuckled. "Get the chicken from the oven. The pasta is done."

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