Page 102 of Vita Mia

“I will sweetheart. I promise.”

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“Signorina Battaglia,” the guard said.

“Donna Battaglia,” Mirabella corrected him. She held Leeza protectively in her arms.

“The warden has agreed to see you,” the guard advised as if surprised that her demands to be seen weren’t dismissed. Mirabella may not know everything in life but she knew powerful men. This warden tortured her husband. He would possibly enjoy tormenting her. Especially if she came to him as a mother.

“This way.”

Leeza looked up at her mother curious about the visit. Mirabella whispered to her baby in her ear. “I’m sorry.”

She would never use her children. Never put them in harm’s way. But she was desperate. What she would have never do had gone out with accepting what she would have to do.

The prison was old. The walls smelled, and the floors were inky and slippery. Her men weren’t allowed to venture inside. The looks of hatred she got from every official she met made her hold even tighter to her baby.

They entered a room. There was a large glass mirror on the wall. A table and three chairs. She set the baby bag on the table instead of the floor. She took a seat and put Leeza on her lap. It was the first time since they arrived that Leeza began to whine, and soon after came her daughter’s tears. Her happy baby was so agitated that Mirabella had to stand and walk with her while rubbing her back. The men that escorted her into the room had large guns. They stood in the corners of the room watching her. Mirabella closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. Dominic told her the visit would be pointless. But if she was going to go to the media she had to be careful. It could backfire. She needed to take this step first.Was it the right step?

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THE DOOR OPENED. GIOVANNIsat on the cold concrete with his head bowed. He heard the soft-shoe approach of the warden and looked up. The smug bastard stood over him. The warden gave him a look of concern.

“Don Giovanni. You don’t look so good,” he said.

Giovanni shivered. The cold was more torture to him than any of the beatings. His only pleasure came from cracking the jaw of one of his tormentors. It was a small victory that nearly got him killed with retaliation.

“I’ve told these men to be careful with our guest. To make sure that you were treated fairly. I apologize that they have gone too far.” The warden said. “Vieni qui e occupati di questo!” Fassino snapped his fingers at the guards. The men marched in. They forced Giovanni to stand. Giovanni groaned in agony. He wasn’t sure what, if anything was broken, but standing made the pain ten times worse.

“Get him cleaned up and dressed. Bring him to the listening room.”

Giovanni continued to cry out in pain as they forced him to walk on feet that were cut and swollen. He endured. Whoever it was that had come to see him would be a welcome event instead of his confinement, so he didn’t resist the reprieve. He focused his mental strength on harnessing his pain to a manageable state and limped into the shower.

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LEEZA SLEPT. SHE’Dcried until she exhausted herself. It had been two hours since Mirabella arrived in the dank room with slate grey walls and no real ventilation. The cold was the worst of it. Though it was close to February the temperature was pleasant in Napoli. In the prison, it felt like the North Pole.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax her nerves.Why would he make her wait so long? Was he even going to show up?The door opened in response to her troubling thoughts. Mirabella’s head turned. She wasn’t sure what to expect. The warden was described to her to be the closest thing to a monster on two legs. The man who entered the room looked as polished and cultured as her husband. He wore a dark grey suit. He was tall, possibly taller than her husband. His beard was salt and pepper and his hair dark and curly with long sideburns that connected to the trim of his beard. He flashed a charming smile.

“Donna Mirabella Battaglia. I am so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Mirabella’s daughter woke immediately.

“I’m Antoni Fassino. The governor of this place. I believe in America you would call me warden.”

“Ciao Signore Fassino,” Mirabella gave a respectful nod.

“And who is this beauty?” he asked.

Leeza drew back into her mother as the warden came closer.

“My baby girl Leeza.”

“Ah,bellisima, she is a doll,” the warden touched her cheek.

Mirabella tolerated it.

“Do you have children?” Mirabella asked.

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