Chocolate and Italian Wine (Music and Mayhem Book 1) (22 page)

“Maria Elena made a statement to the press last night,” Raffaelo said.

“She what? Why the hell would she talk to the press? What about?” he asked, his anger rapidly surfacing.

Paolo stared at his father, unblinking. “She says she’s pregnant.” He paused. “Is she?”

“If she is, it isn’t by me,” he stated emphatically, setting down his cup.

“Very interesting that she told the press before she would tell you. I’m assuming she never mentioned the possibility,” Raffaelo said as he shook a snow globe that sat on his desk.

“This is the first I’ve heard of that lie,” Paolo said, standing up with his fist in his hand. He socked it fast and hard, making a loud smack of his palm. “Fucking bitch!” he roared.

“Calm down,” Davit said to him, his hands moving out in a calming gesture. “We’ll handle this like we handle everything else,” he said, standing as well.

“She’s gone off the rails. She was in her wedding gown,” Daniel smirked.

Paolo’s eyes bugged. “She was…what?”

“Yeah,” Daniel continued. “She’s lost it. She claims that Karisma forced you to choose between the two of them,” Daniel said sarcastically.

“She’s a nut job, man. Certifiable,” Davit sighed, as he went over for more coffee.

“Fuck!” Paolo exclaimed through clenched teeth as he struggled to rein himself in.

“’Ndrine don’t go out looking for publicity. Her father had to have given his blessing on this, so this thinly veiled act of blackmail was an act of war. We’ll deal with the Bianchis soon,” Raffaelo warned.

Paolo stood next to his father’s desk, tapping out an angry beat with the knuckle of his index finger. Raffaelo watched his son from his seated position. “I know you are angry right now, Paolo, but I need you focused on what’s going on around you. You’re distracted. That’s a luxury afforded to women and children, not men.”

Paolo looked his father in the eye. “I’m not distracted.”

              “What about your Hollywood star? What do you intend to do?” Raffaelo asked directly, his eyes narrowed and focused.

Paolo snapped, “Her name’s Karisma, Pop, and I’m going to marry her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Sex and infatuation are not the only ingredients that you need for a good wife when you’re a man of your position. Do you really think that’s wise?” Raffaelo asked, leaning forward.

Paolo looked at his father. “Wise? I don’t know how wise it is, but I’m in love with her and I am going to make her my wife.” His words were absolute.

Leaving the comfort of his large leather chair, Raffaelo got up and walked over to where Paolo stood. “Just how is that supposed to work? She’s a famous woman. Someone fantasies are made of. You, on the other hand, are a complicated man whose responsibilities are far removed from her reality.”

“I’m a part of her reality, Pop. She’s mine, and that’s just how it is. We’ll make it work,” Paolo said, holding his ground, trying to keep his temper in check.

“And what about
who
you are? She doesn’t know that. Can she handle what comes with it? I heard you two whispering last night, something distressed her. I may not be as young as I once was, but my eyes are keen and my ears are good.”

“That was nothing,” Paolo said defiantly.

“Don’t insult me, son. You didn’t answer the question. What would she think about who you are?”

“I really don’t know, Pop,” Paolo replied. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“When is that? After you’re married? We talked about this yesterday,” Raffaelo said. His face was getting redder and his voice louder.

              Now Raffaelo walked back behind his desk to sit down and the room was silent. Once seated, he stared at his son again. “You’ve brought her here, you say you’re going to marry her. You need to take some time and really think this through. Can you say with full certainty that this is the right woman for you?”

Paolo sat back down, as well. He gave a sardonic laugh and shook his head. His father didn’t understand. He’d never feared much, but the thought of not having Karisma, even after just a short time, sparked intense fear, and he wasn’t willing to risk it unless he absolutely had to. He loved her. What didn’t Raffaelo get?

“He doesn’t want to lose
her
, Pop, and I don’t blame him,” Daniel interrupted.

“Shut the hell up, Danny!” Paolo hissed.

“But your brother speaks the truth, no? You want to keep her in your bed, I understand. She is beautiful. Do you want to marry her because you think that is the only way to keep her?” Now it was Raffaelo who was tapping his finger on his desk and watching Paolo.

Daniel snorted and his father gave him a silencing look.

Paolo stared at his father hard and said, “This is ridiculous. Marry her to keep her? You think I only want sex from her? It pains me that you’re ignoring the fact that I’m in love with her. To me, that’s the reason to marry. And keeping who I am from her is wrong. But I will handle that on my own terms, in my own way. We’ll marry with no secrets between us.”

His father put his hands up and they formed a steeple. “And if I forbid this marriage?” he asked.

Paolo saw that he was quite serious. “You’d forbid me love?”

“Don’t talk like a silly girl, Giampaolo. I expect more from you than this.” Now the steeple was a fist and he slammed it on the walnut wooden desk. “We have rules to our life, Paolo, you know that. She’s black, you’re Italian. She’s Hollywood. You’re Italy. She’s rich and independent. And. Desired. By. Many. Men. One of you will have to drag the other away from their world. And it won’t be you.”

“You’re bothered because she’s black?” Paolo asked incredulously.

“No, not that she’s black! That she’s famous. The life you lead, Giampaolo, must be led behind the curtain, not in front of it. This family cannot take reporters being outside our estate and people following our every move. You know that too, and if it was any of your brothers in this situation you’d be saying what I am saying right now.”

“I know what I can handle and what I can do. You don’t think that I’ve thought this through, Papa?” Paolo asked.

His father shook his head. “She won’t let you take control and be the man.”

“Pop, what are you talking about? First it’s fame, then it’s about being black, and now it’s control.”

“American women need control. Black American women, more so.”

“What?” Paolo said, getting up. He was getting angrier and while he respected his father, he’d gone too far.

Trying to diffuse the growing tension, Davit said, “That’s not true, Pop. And Karisma’s a great girl. She’s not a stereotype.”

“I have to agree with Davit and Paolo, Papa. She doesn’t strike me that way at all,” Daniel added.

              “It sounds like the two of you are seduced by her beauty, as well,” Raffaelo said, pointing from one identical face to the other. Daniel stared at him stoically while Davit gave a small chuckle.

Paolo shook his head. At least his brothers agreed with his statement. “You know what? I’m pretty pissed right now, Pop, about all of this, and these things you’re saying about Karisma are ridiculous. I thought you were going to tell me some stuff about her not being good enough…”

Raffaelo cut his son off by raising his hand in the air, the signal for silence. “This isn’t about being good enough. She’s lovely, but she is too famous, Paolo, and I refuse to give you my blessing for this marriage. It makes no sense,” he said emphatically.

“Look, I get that you’re concerned. But I know what I’m doing. I love her and I won’t let anything come between us. Not her fame and independence, not Maria Elena and her lies, and not who I am,” Paolo said simply, looking his father in the eyes, unfazed by Raffaelo’s glare.

 

                                                       ***

              

Paolo felt instantly warmed by the early morning sun as he walked out onto the veranda and glanced at Karisma, who was sitting next to his mother, gripping a small cup of coffee and finishing off a pastry. Neither was talking, but they seemed content. As for Paolo, his heart was racing. He walked over and bent down to peck his mother on the cheek and said, “Buon giorno, Mama.”

“Buongiorno, amore mio. Hai dormito bene?” she asked.

“Si,” he answered and then turned to Kari, “I did sleep well.” His eyes naturally traveled to the beauty he’d awakened with. He stepped around his mother and kissed Karisma’s lips.

              “Hi,” Kari said to him, offering that smile that made him forget the madness that his life held. “Hey, do you want to go for a walk around the grounds?”

“Now?” he replied, looking a bit confused.

She mouthed, “I want to talk with you.”

“A walk sounds great,” Paolo conceded. What did she want to talk about? She couldn’t read the Italian papers.

Once they were out of earshot from everyone, Paolo asked, “Anything in particular you want to talk about?” He had an uneasy feeling and hoped she hadn’t gotten wind of Maria Elena’s press conference. But the conversation with his father had rattled him.

“You haven’t shown me around the estate,” she said, glancing over at the small army of soldati patrolling the grounds. Due to the nice weather, it was easy to see that many of them had holsters under their arm or on their side that had guns in them.

“The security bothers you?” Paolo asked.

“There’s just so much. Why is it necessary?”

“They guard the estate, Kari, just like your people guard you.”

“Huh,” she commented.

“What, huh?” he asked, tickling her.

She squirmed away from him, giggling. She exhaled and thought, 
here goes
. “Paolo, Ray came by the hotel room yesterday morning.”

Paolo stopped tickling and the light mood instantly went dark. Their exes had been busy. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to tell me that you were Mafia,” she said.

Now they were standing still and Paolo looked at Kari, trying to assess her thoughts. He was unsuccessful. He cautiously asked, “What did you say?”

“I told him to leave,” she said.

“Where you alone with him? What were you thinking inviting him up?” Paolo asked, exposing his anger.

“Is that all you can think of right now? I tell you he says you’re Mafia, and you ask if I was alone with him? I can handle Ray. He wasn’t trying anything with me,” she said, suddenly a bit perturbed about his response. It was so damn macho.

“I’m sorry, just relax. I just love you and want to keep you safe,” Paolo said.
Damn you, Raffaelo! Get out of my head, he thought.

“Can we be honest with each other, Paolo? Even when we might not like it? Kari asked.

“Yeah, baby,” he said. He was freaking out inside, trying to think of how he could respond to anything Kari threw his way.

“That’s good, I don’t want to beat around the bush. Did Ray lie?” Kari looked right at him. He shoved his hands into his pockets just as his brother Rafie had done the night before. “I don’t ask that because you’re Italian with money. I do wonder why you seem to be in charge of everything and have so many connections that are rather…unique, we’ll just say. And look around,” Kari said, pointing to the entire estate, “all these men with guns. Here, and at your home in Malibu. Paolo, you have more bodyguards than I do. I heard one of the guards call your father, 
Don Raffaelo.

Paolo listened to Kari as she said everything, half relieved she didn’t know about Maria Elena’s allegations, but also nervous about how he answered. A lot was riding on it and he hadn’t planned on having this conversation at that moment. “Does the idea turn you off or does it turn you on?” he asked, smiling wickedly at her.

Then she smiled, too. “Whichever one gets me the truth, baby,” she said, turning serious.

“What’s he doing in Italy?” he asked, his jealousy surfacing.

“Are you purposely avoiding the question?”

“No, but I do want to know why Ray Bryant is chasing you down in Italy under the pretense of warning you off me,” he answered, looking her directly in the eye.

“He’s working, Paolo,” she said, losing patience.

“Yeah, right. It’s probably not as innocuous as that,” he said.

“What, you think he flew all the way here to get me back? Maybe sleep with him? Stop, okay? Forget Ray! Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I need you to be honest with me.” She stood there looking at him with those velvet brown eyes that he loved. “Are you, or not?”

After a long pause, “I am,” he said, locking eyes with her.

“You are?” she said, disappointment evident in her countenance.

He ran his hands through his thick hair. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. Suddenly she looked at him with sad resignation.

“So the habitual liar known as Ray, wasn’t lying this time,” she said slowly. “I sure can pick em,” she nodded sadly.

“Look, baby, I know I kept it from you. It’s just not something you say in passing. I was going to tell you, but it seemed too soon, you know? Tell me it doesn’t change anything between us,” he said, moving into her personal space and feeling anxiety swell in his chest.

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