Page 61 of Ti Amo

Fabiana’s blue eyes glistened with tears. “If Lorenzo’s mistakes are revealed, it will destroy you and Giovanni. I know things now, Mira. Promise me to be smart, and careful.”

Mira nodded.“I promise.”

Fabiana smiled. “So you named pumpkin pie after me huh? Eve Fabiana? Wise decision.”

“She has your spirit and her father’s eyes.”

“She has your soul.” Fabiana laughed. “Still pissed about this yellow dress?” She asked rising, turning in it so it twirled around her knees.

“You haunt me in it!”Mira said shaking her head.

“Damn right. I told you I liked it,” Fabiana said.Mira laughed and then started to cry.Fabiana got down on her knees in front of her and hugged her again. “I’m always with you. Always. Remember family comes first. Get married, have babies, live our dream.”

“It was never our dream,”Mira said sadly.

Fabiana chuckled. “Yes it was. Love was always at the heart of who we were. What we created. I love you, Mira. With all my heart. Always.”

“Fabiana?”

Mira opened her eyes. Darkness enveloped her. She lay on her back and waited for her vision to clear. She turned over on her side and faced Eve who slept against Giovanni’s chest. Mira pulled up the cover over her family with a heavy heart. The beautiful fragrance her best-friend always wore lingered in the air.Oh God, it was only a dream but it felt so real.Moving closer to her family she rubbed her baby’s back. Looking up to Giovanni who snored softly, she smiled. Why he insisted his two-year-old daughter sleep in his arms on some nights like this confused her. He constantly rose from his bed to peek in on Eve. He’d change her diaper or fix her juice in a cup to help her go back to sleep. And if none of it lessened his anxiety he’d bring her into their bed. She’d talk to him about moving Eve’s crib into the bedroom so he could be close to her.

Resting her head against his shoulder she closed her eyes trying to reclaim sleep. Hearing Fabiana’s warning in her head, sleep became an impossible task. What did they face next and how could she be the key to it all? Giovanni rarely discussed the dangers that lurked around them. Letting a tear roll down her cheek she drifted back to sleep.

“Oh, Fabiana,” she said sadly into the night. “I miss you so much.”

****

“Un momento.” The young buxom brunette said.

Cheung appreciated her curves. Like his cousin he loved women, all races, all sizes. His appetite had often been a distraction. Even now he had to force his gaze up from the sweet shapely ass behind the black mini skirt that defined her heart shaped hips. She wore a fluffy turquoise sweater that had her breasts pushed upward into view. Her dark hair hung in loose curls past her shoulders, and she had the most alluring eyes he’d ever seen. Italian women were like goddesses in his eyes. This one had the body of one. His dick coiled tighter behind his zipper. Don Bonaduce walked in the room followed by his sons. The young woman smirked at Cheung and sashayed over to the old Don.

“Grazie che l'innamorato ora va indietro all'interno.”The Don said.

“Sí nonno,” she kissed him on the cheek. Sashaying out she glanced over her shoulder. He watched her, pleased.

The Don glared at Cheung. “Why are you here?”

Cheung had to evoke the name of a contact back in China to be granted this meeting. “I apologize for the intrusion Don Bonaduce but I’ve been told you can help me.”

The Don pulled out a hand rolled cigar and fired it up, walking around to the large recliner in his study. “Help you?” he said dragging on it before blowing out rings of smoke.

Cheung nodded, “I need to meet with Angelo Calderone.”

The Don cut his sons a look, and then his narrowed gaze returned to him. “Angelo Calderone is dead. His villa burned to the ground last night.”

The news struck Cheung as unpleasant for them all. The Don wore a tight congested grimace on his wrinkled face. He gestured toward the chair in front of the old Don. “May I?”

The Don nodded. Cheung sat. “I believe we can be of some use to one another. We have a common enemy.”

Bonaduce flashed Cheung an amused smile. “Forgive meSignore?”

“Bojing.”

“Ah yesSignore Bojing. Forgive me, but I am a busy man. Why don’t you just say what you came here to say. Neither Giovanni Battaglia nor I needyouto settle our differences.”

Cheung smiled slyly. “Maybe not, but I can keep theCammoraandNdranghetafrom a war. With your blessing and a bit of assistance of course. That is something neither you nor Giovanni Battaglia can afford.”

Bonaduce let go a deep laugh. He leaned forward, his hard eyes sharp as a dagger. “Go on?”

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