La Vita Dolce Ch. 15

She merely held onto him more tightly. "Luca please--"

Luca buried his hand in her hair, cupping her skull and lightly massaging her aching head. The gentleness of the gesture and the soft caressing quality of his tone contrasted jarringly with the words he spoke. "Get in the car now. Get in the car now and I won't kill him and your friends right where they stand." he continued on. "I can do that you know, and take you too. Or perhaps I'll leave your beautiful lifeless body lying beside theirs. Would you like that, hm?"

Natasha trembled. "You promised," she said softly. She pulled back and gazed up into Luca Angiolini's face. He looked at her, his face the picture of adoration and concern. A façade. His eyes were cool and hard. She pulled silently out of his arms and slid into the backseat of the SUV. She could not look back at Gianni. She could not let him see her face now. He would know everything was a farce. Instead, she settled her trembling form into the seat and watched anxiously. Please, God let Luca keep his word.

Gianni advanced a few steps. Luca slipped his hands into his pockets, looking the very picture of nonchalance.

Luca shrugged. "Enough is enough, hm brother?"

Gianni was striding across the lawn, fists clenched. "You fucking bastard," he spat, "I'll kill you for this--"

"Uh uh," Luca smoothly pulled his gun from its holster and pointed it at his brother's chest. Gianni halted abruptly though he looked no less enraged. A smile tilted the corners of Luca's lips but his voice was low, practically oozing distain. "Don't think I have any qualms about putting a bullet in you head...." he shrugged again, "but I promised her," he said jerking his head towards Natasha in the backseat, hidden behind tinted glass.

Natasha looked on as Gianni's gaze swung towards her as though he could see through the heavily tinted windows. The look on his face tore at her heart. She saw rage and raw anguish warring for a hold on him. She checked the desire to run to him and beg him for forgiveness. She wanted to tell him it was all a lie just to soothe his heart and make him love her again. But that would mean their deaths. She had to put an end to this.

"Luca," she extended her hand and took his hand in her own, stepping from the SUV. She stepped close to him, placing her other hand against his chest though his gaze nor the gun wavered. She cupped his jaw in her hand and gently turned his face to hers. "Let's go," she said with all the quiet tenderness she could muster.

His gaze darted to hers in surprise.

"Okay?" she ventured.

Luca lowered the gun and nodded mutely. Natasha steeled herself and turned. "Goodbye, Gianni."

Gianni's gaze bored into her, his jaw clenched, his hands curling tightly into fists. He said nothing. Natasha turned and got into the car. Luca smirked, slid the gun back in the holster and gave Gianni a mock salute before climbing up into the SUV behind Natasha and closing the door.

The remaining armed men piled into the SUVs. The engines started and the caravan pulled away from the curb. Natasha turned in her seat, looking back over her shoulder. Lacey and Colin had joined Gianni in watching the SUV pull away. Morgan was standing slightly apart.

Unable to bring herself to watch them disappear out of sight Natasha resolutely faced forward. It was silent in the SUV. Luca said nothing to her. She preferred it that way. If he had said a word to her she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself from breaking or perhaps attempting to rip his throat out.

She struggled to keep her breathing even. In...out...in...out. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her breathing to slow down. Her heart felt as though it had moved up into her throat and was slowly strangling her. Nausea was taking over and she bent forward to put her head between her knees, taking huge gulps of air.

She barely heard Luca barking orders into his cell phone. Her hearing sounded dull and muffled. She barely noticed the passage of time. She didn't know if she had been in the car for minutes or hours. She simply remained curled in on herself as though she were trying valiantly to hold her own pieces of herself together before she broke apart.

She held Gianni's image in her mind. It was both agonizing and a bitter comfort. She was leaving her beautiful man. He hated her, most likely wished her dead. The thought wrenched a small injured cry from her throat quickly followed by the lesser balm that he would live and she was saving his life.

She barely noticed the SUV pulling to a stop. She did not move. She was wrenched from her morose reverie back into the even harsher reality as Luca's rough hand closed around her upper arm and she was dragged unceremoniously from the backseat. It was dark and she blinked at the profusion of blinking lights. Natasha's gaze swept the small airport and landed on the Boeing business jet that idled, the stairs leading upwards into its lit interior. She balked as Luca hauled her along behind him towards the plane. She felt panic rising in her again, creeping past the numbness. "Where are we going?"

Luca grinned at her, his bared teeth resembling a threatening grimace more than a smile. "Home, little one." He said lightly and lengthened his stride.

Her voice rose and wavered as she stammered, "B-but...but I am home."

Luca practically dragged her up the stairs and immediately flung her into a plush leather seat. She made to stand but he was immediately on her, bracing his hands on the armrests of the chair. His gaze roved over her tearstained face as he spoke. "We're going to my home, yours now too." A sardonic smile curved on his lips. "We're going back to Italy. You have one more performance to give."

************************************* Three years later...

Her head ached dully as she struggled to lift her eyelids. She'd drank too much last night but that wasn't the reason her body ached.

Natasha was completely still as she lay on her stomach surveyed the scene before her. She took in the profusion on golden gilt furniture and accessories, accented by dark blue silks and crème edged with gold. She'd spent a fortune of Luca's money in decorating her rooms. There were few ways she could punish him. Spending absurd amounts of money was one of those few ways. Her gaze caught on the 3.00 carat princess cut diamond ring on her fingers flanked by baguette diamonds and complimented by a Harry Winston diamond wedding band. It was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen and she hated it.

She listened carefully for the sound of someone breathing next to her, for the some indication that he had left her. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed, 'Please, God, let him be gone.'

Natasha slowly lifted her head from the pillow and turned to survey the other half of the bed. Relief crashed over her as she realized she was alone. She pressed her face back into her pillow and groaned. Her body ached something awful and was accompanied by the telltale signs of a hangover.

She had accompanied Luca to a dinner party the night before. She could feel his eyes on her. The way he looked at her...she knew he would want her when they returned home. And so she drank excessively. Luca was never a gentle lover.

Steeling herself, Natasha raised herself and sat up. She gritted her teeth against the pain that lanced through her side. She allowed the sheet to fall from her body and she winced at the sight of the dark purple bruises that spread along her left side. She gently ran her finger s over her ribs. Bruised, not broken. She'd learned to tell the difference.

She pushed back the covers and carefully got to her feet, she grabbed her dressing gown from the chair at her bedside and shrugged into it.

The door to her bedroom burst open suddenly causing her heart to launch into her throat and she hastily tightened her robe around her.

"Mommy!" A small cherub-faced little boy raced into the room in a pair of superman pajamas. Natasha's face spread into a huge smile as she stooped and swept the little boy up into her arms, struggling to ignore the pain that screamed through her side. She settled him onto her good hip and covered his face with kisses.

A woman entered the room slightly out of breath, having just chased the rambunctious little boy down the hallway. Marcella's friendly round face was flushed as her words rushed out, "Signora, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to let him--"

Natasha smiled at her, "It's alright Marcella." She looked at the little boy in her arms, Gabriel. He was two and a half years old and already he had his father's smile. His hair was a mass of ebony curls that framed his light caramel colored face. A pair of startling light grey stared up at her in obvious adoration.

She reached up and ruffled the boy's curls. "What are you doing up so early?"

Gabriel's small hands toyed with her necklace. "Marcella said we could go to the park today."

"If's that's okay with you, Signora." Marcella said.

"Of course," Natasha grinned. "I think I'll join you. "

Gabriel beamed at her and wound his little arms around her neck to plant a slobbery kiss on her cheek before wriggling out of her arms.

Natasha set him to the floor and he was racing out the door again. Marcella started after him before hesitating in the doorway, the young woman's dark eyes full of concern. "Are you alright, Signora? I can handle Gabriel myself today if you like."

Natasha winced inwardly, suddenly self conscious. "I'm fine, Marcella. I think getting out of the house will do me some good."

Marcella nodded mutely, though the concern did not leave her eyes.

Natasha ran a hand through her tangled locks as the door clicked shut and caught her reflection in a tall gilt rococo framed mirror. Dark circles were under her eyes, a bruise darkened her jaw. She looked like hell.

Natasha snorted but there was little humor in the sound. No wonder Marcella was worried. Sighing, she made her way to the adjoining bathroom to make herself presentable.

***

Natasha watched Gabriel from the park bench next to the playground in Viale della Casina di Raffaello. He slid down the slide into Marcella's arms. Natasha shifted uncomfortably wishing she were there to catch her son herself. Her ribs hadn't allowed her to play with her son more than a few minutes before the pain had become unbearable. Tears pricked her eyes.

She fished a prescription bottle from her Fendi spy bag and downed a couple of pills with San Pelligrino.

She watched Gabriel run around the jungle gym and couldn't help but smile. He was the reason she was able to bring herself to get out of bed in the morning, and the reason she bore all of it. Whatever Luca did to her, she had her son. Luca had never laid a hand on her son. Rather, he doted on the little boy, treating him his own son.

Luca had been enraged when he had learned she was pregnant. But his fury had quickly turned to satisfaction when he realized that he had not only take his brother's woman, but his son as well. Luca was determined to mold the boy in his own image, a perfect heir to the Angiolini dynasty. Natasha winced inwardly at the thought. She would never allow Gabriel to become anything like Luca.

To any observer who say the couple together, the little boy looked like the perfect hybrid between Luca Angiolini and his young wife. Gabriel Angiolini had his mother's mouth and a lighter version of his mother's caramel skin. His wild dark curls were a mix of his mothers ebony spirals and Luca's dark silken waves. The child's grey eyes were the same changeling grey as Luca's, constantly changing with his moods.

Yes, to any observer, the little boy looked like the perfect mix Luca and Natasha Angiolini. But all Natasha saw when she looked at her son was the other Angiolini brother. Her son had his father's smile and was a constant reminder of the man she would be better off forgetting. Yet she loved him all the more for it. It was a small comfort to know that some piece of Gianni loved her still. Gabriel reminded her why she was doing what she was. Her reminded her that her sacrifice was worth it.

Natasha watched her son feeling some semblance of peace settle upon her only to be followed by the familiar unsettling prickle of someone watching her intently. She did not think much of it. Luca often had her followed. Her first couple years with him she found herself in the constant companionship of a tall broad shouldered shadow. Realizing that she had no intention of forgetting their agreement. Natasha's security detail became more lax until it disappeared from sight altogether, although she often cauht sight of a car tailing her or a dark suited man with eyes only for her. They were not discrete. They were there to remind her that she was ever under Luca Angiolini's watchful eye.

Natasha's azure gaze swept the park for the telltale man I na dark suit when her gaze clashed with a pair of slate grey eyes. Her bottle of Pelligrino slipped from her fingers and thudded dully in the grass.

Gianni Angiolini stood on the other side of the playground. His gaze was cool and detached though a muscle ticked tensely in his jaw.

She sat frozen in place. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Her lips trembled with the effort of holding back the desire to call out to him.

"Signora?" A hand touched her shoulder causing Natasha to flinch in surprise. She had not noticed Marcella standing next to her, Gabriel's hand in her own. The little boy looked at her curiously.

"Signora," Marcella began, "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Natasha's gaze flew back to where Gianni stood. He was gone.

Natasha shot to her feet, her eyes sweeping the park. He was nowhere in sight. The blood was rushing to her head. "Maybe I am seeing things," she murmured.

Gabriel was tugging on her hand. "Can we go get gelato, per favore, mommy?"

Natasha gave herself a mental shake and smiled down at him, still feeling slightly lightheaded. "Why not?"

She steered the brand new Range Rover through traffic and parked along a bustling street. She couldn't silence her jumbled thoughts, couldn't stop the feeling that her head was floating about disconnected from her body.

"Marcella?" she said softly, "Will you take Gabe? I'll be in in a minute."

"Sí, Signora," Marcella said.

Natasha watched her leading Gabriel down the street toward the gellateria. When they were out of sight, Natasha dropped her head forward onto the steering wheel. "Pull it together, girl," she berated herself. Her fingers tightened almost painfully around the steering wheel before she lifted her head and lowered the mirror visor. She ran a hand though her pin straight hair, put another coat of gloss on her lips and wiped at her smudged eyeliner. She slipped on her Armani sunglasses and stepped out of the car.

She felt fully capable of maintaining her calm façade until she rounded the front of the car, tripped on the curb and dropped her handbag, its contents spilling out onto the sidewalk and rolling off the curb and under the car.

A prescription bottle rolled from under the SUV and into oncoming traffic where it was immediately crushed.

Natasha straightened and stood completely still. She counted her breaths. One...two...three. In...Out...Calm...

Nope. Wasn't going to work.

"Fuck!" she cursed and quickly bent to retrieve her things. She let out a stream of growled expletives as she angrily shoved her sunglasses up on her head and hurriedly gathered her things.

"Always so clumsy, bella."

The voice sounded behind her, causing her to shoot to her feet. Her heart seemed to have squeezed its way into her throat.

Not standing three feet away, Gianni Angiolini eyed her coolly, a sardonic smile twisted on his sensuous lips.

Natasha stared, her body trembling. He was not the same man she had left three years ago. His dark hair which had previously fell in onyx waves about his collar had been cropped short close to his head. The effect made his face even more fiercely beautiful, his iridescent grey eyes standing out brilliantly against his tanned skin.

"Gianni..." she breathed. Her chest felt tight. She hadn't said his name aloud in years.

He bared his strong white teath at her, a faint imitation of a smile but the effect was more predatory than a anything.

The items she had gathered slipped from her hands. Her cell phone breaking into pieces tugged her out of her stupor. Cursing under her breath and feeling slightly unbalanced, she bent to pick up the contents of her purse once more.

Gianni bent to help her gather her things. Natasha's heart beat wildly as she avoided his gaze and scrambled to shove everything back in the purse.

"Natasha."

The menace in his tone caused her to jerk her head up, Gianni's silver gaze boring into her. He held up and orange prescription bottle.

"Vicodin, Natasha?" His eyebrows drew together ominously as he spied another prescription bottle and picked it up. "Oxycodon?" He glared at her. "What are you some kind of junkie now?"

Hurt lanced though her, tinged with a healthy dose of righteous indignation. She snarled at him. "That's none of your goddamned business," and snatched the bottles back from him, shoving them into her bag.

She made to stand and Gianni rose with her when his hand suddenly shot out and grasped her wrists. She gasped and tried to wrench herself free but the motion sent a wave of while hot pain shooting down her side. She let out a low cry and stumbled slightly under the weight of the pain. Gianni quickly pulled her against him but the movement only caused another stab of pain.

She gritted her teeth against the agony and gazed up at Gianni whose face was only mere inches from her own. His look was remote and inscrutable.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, a little breathless from the pain.

Gianni merely continued to hold her against him and lifted her captured wrist up to examine. He ran his thumb lightly over the tender flesh over the tender flesh at the inside of her wrist. She shivered at the light contact.

Her wrists were ringed with purplish bruises. Her knuckles displayed defensive wounds. Her gaze flew to hers and she flinched at the rage she saw in his eyes. But the emotion was immediately wiped away to one of cool speculation as he perused her face. Upon closer inspection, he noticed a buise on her jaw camouflaged by makeup. His breath grew strained as he wrestled with his fury.

When he spoke again his voice was flat. "Broken ribs too?"

Natasha's eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. "No."

"No?" Gianni tightened his arm around her waist, immediately halting as he watched pain flit across her pretty features.

"Just bruised," she gasped. "Fell...down the stairs."

Gianni growled at her obvious lie. He gestured to her wrists. "This is not from falling down the stairs."

Natasha glared at him. "Like I said, it's none of your business."

He eyed her with distain. "You're right. You stopped being my business three years ago. Married life not what all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

"Go to hell Angiolini," she snarled. "Let me go."

"Mommy?" Natasha froze. She watched Gianni's face melt into one of shock as his arms fell away immediately.

Natasha turned to find Marcella standing with Gabriel a few feet away. The little boy's face broke into smile as he ran towards her and wrapped his arms around her legs and looked up at her adoringly.

Natasha smiled and ran a hand over his dark curls, utterly aware of the man whose eyes were boring into her back. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. Gabriel's small hand in her own. She met Gianni's gaze. He looked like he'd been punched in the stomach. Her voice was soft. "Gianni, this is my son, Gabriel." Gianni stared from Natasha to Gabriel for a few moments.