Page 88 of La Dolce Vita

"You'll learn very soon, Adara, that what you want doesn't matter to me."

To her surprise, Umberto turned in his seat and snatched her purse from her. She tried to hold on to it. She was stupid enough to put the gun back inside of it. But he caught her off guard. He ripped it from her hands and turned around.

"Give that back!" she hit his seat.

Carlo glanced over to his partner. The first thing Umberto pulled out of the purse was the gun. The men stared at it for a moment and then Carlo glanced up to the rearview mirror. "You had that all night?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't use it? Why?" he asked.

"For the same reason, you didn't check my purse, or search me. I have nothing to do with this. I carry it for protection."

Umberto emptied the clip and then let the window down and tossed the gun out into the night, while they coasted down a single lane highway into the valley. He rolled up the window and Adara stewed. It was a rookie mistake. She was a rookie and making plenty of them. They would eventually decide the only witness to their games was her. She had totally misread the night.

"I could have killed you. The both of you!" she said.

"If you say so," Carlo said.

"You don't care about dying?" she asked.

"We all die, eventually," Carlo countered his deadly gaze switched up to look at her in the rearview mirror once more. "Some sooner than others. Why fear death if it's inevitable?"

"There's nothing I can say to you to convince you to let me go. Is there?"

Carlo kept driving for a moment before he spoke. And then his gaze switched back up to the rearview mirror as he gave his one-word reply: "No."

ChapterFifteen

Tears for Fears

Mondello Beach, Sicily

She wept. At the foot of her mother's grave, she clutched a tiny silver tape cassette recorder. Her thumb pressed rewind and then pressed play over and over again until it felt as if her fingers would cramp. How could he do it? How could he think it?Patriraised Lorenzo like a son. Why would Lorenzo want him dead?It's not true. It's not true. It's not true!Her mind screamed. But her heart absorbed the confession and knew the truth.

The pain and grief she carried over her father's shooting had never actually healed. In this life, a woman like her with a brother, cousins, uncles and a father like Tomosino was expected to accept such grief. And she had. Until now. The mere thought of such an act of betrayal by one of the people she trusted gutted her. Catalina closed her eyes and squeezed them shut. It was his voice. She could hear it crystal clear. He laughed. The fucking demon laughed and joked over the many ways to killPatri. He even mocked Giovanni.What was this nightmare she found herself trapped in?

Armando wasn't keen on kindness or empathy, however, breaking his sweet and beautiful Catalina's heart was hard to bear. He took a step forward, and a twig snapped under his foot. Her heated glare swung over her shoulder and nailed him. She slowly stood and faced him. Her delicate fingers fiddled with the release button on the recorder. She snatched out the tape and a dark, sinister smile lifted the right corner of her mouth. He watched as she tossed aside the cassette player and went to her mother's tombstone. She picked up a rock and smashed the stone against the tiny plastic tape over and over again until it was nothing but shards of plastic and ribbon.

She cursed in her native tongue. She cursed him. She cursed Lorenzo. She cursed God for allowing the unthinkable to befall upon her family. Her long curls covered her face as she smashed and slammed the rock over and over on the tombstone. The fire in her was undeniable. His deadly princess wanted blood. And all he wanted was more of her.

"Do you understand what that is?" his voice croaked. The emotion he heard escape his lips embarrassed him. If she paid close attention, she'd see his weakness for her and seize the moment. But his princess was too caught up in her fury to notice. He cleared his throat and spoke again with the same baritone manner he commanded over those he wanted to control. "Piccoletta? Do you know what it means if Giovanni was ever to hear that tape?" he asked.

"He will never hear it!" she shouted at him. "Do you hear me? Devil! Never!" she swore.

Her face was flushed red, and her cheeks wet with tears. She turned on him with her chest heaving and her breasts rising and falling. Clutched in one hand was the rock. The other hand was curled tight into a fist. Her hair covered one side of her face now, but her striking eyes gleamed like the moon. He knew it might be considered sadistic to be aroused by her angry defiance. But damn it to hell he had an erection. This was the type of woman he liked. Finding such a beautiful creature in his life was rare. Strong and full of fire. The way the moon cast shadows and light over her held him hypnotized.

"That tape isn't my only copy, Catalina," he said.

"What do you want? Marietta is your sister. She loves Lorenzo. She's pregnant for Christ’s sake. That tape will get him killed."

"That's not why you're angry. Is it? You just heard Lorenzo order the murder of your sweet Papa. He betrayed you.Didn't he?And that betrayal hurts, it cuts, it burns, doesn't it?"

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

"He betrays Giovanni at every turn. He doesn't care about my sisters. He doesn't care about family or loyalty. He only thirsts for power. You heard him say it. What did his killing Giuseppe Calderone do to your brother? I will tell you. It made him a monster. A baby killer. A man even more terrible than me," he chuckled.

"Shut up!" she dropped the rock. Catalina put both of her hands to her ears. Was she blocking his words or the voices in her head? The ones that whispered the same truth he tried to share.

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