tagInterracial LoveLa Vita Dolce Ch. 06

La Vita Dolce Ch. 06


Natasha strode into the suite, tossed her clutch onto the coffee table and flung herself down into the couch.

Gianni entered the suite behind her, his manner more sedate though his face was both grave and ominous. He took the seat opposite the couch and watched Natasha closely as she leaned forward and buried her face in her hands with a low groan.

Despite the look of things, the evening had gone quite well. Dinner had been lovely. They had danced afterward and even stopped at a street vendor to order gelato as they walked hand and hand along the streets. At one a.m. the streets had been crowded with the city's youth on their way out. It was when they had entered a narrow alley full of vendors selling their wares that the tone of the night had shifted.

Like many of the narrow back walks of Florence, this one was full of small stands and booths, their owners peddling beads, silver jewelry, and Italian leather goods as well as knock off designer shades and handbags.

Gianni was reaching into his wallet to buy a small silver ring for her as she wandered to the next booth; a man selling strings of beads, some of the strands made of semi precious stones like amethyst or turquoise. A man was perched upon a stool cutting leather in the next booth and stitching pieces together into wallets and shoulder bags.

"Signorina," the vendor nodded and smiled at her.

She returned the smile and tapped a wallet with the tip of her finger. "Cuanto?"

Before the man could answer a large hand closed around her upper arm in an almost bruising grip.

"Jeez Gian, chill out," she breathed as she turned to face him. She stopped short and her heart dropped into her stomach.

The man who held her was not Gianni. He was tall and bald, his gaze hooded. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie, a tattoo peeked above the collar of his shirt. He was flanked by two equally sinister men at his sides.

"Signorina Pezzini," he nearly growled at her. Natasha recognized him instantly. She remembered the man at the airport staring so intently at her as Alejandro had all but pushed her into the limousine calling this man a 'henchman'.

Benicio Morelli. 'Henchman'. Natasha had laughed at the time, thinking Alejandro's choice of words a bit melodramatic. But at the current time, Natasha thought Alejandro's melodramatic choice of words were quite appropriate. This guy was definitely sinister. He practically oozed menace and self-importance as his fingers dug into her flesh.

The gelato cone she had been holding slipped from her fingers to land with a soft 'plop' upon the ground. Morelli didn't even bat an eyelash, his gaze intent upon her.

"I think you should come with us, Miss Pezzini." His voice was low and heavily accented. His words sounded clumsy on his tongue.

Natasha stared at him. She looked at him incredulously, "Come with you?" she pretended to think about it a moment and then sighed. "Actually, I'm thinking no." She shrugged in mock apology. "I'm just not feeling it. I think I'll stay right where I am."

They were receiving curious looks as people moved through the alley. Morelli's grip tightened on her arm. "It would be best if you didn't cause a scene."

Her gaze narrowed as she stared at him. She snorted. "Right."

Taking him off guard she brought her spiked heel down on his instep. He cried out and his grip slackened as she pushed him with both hands. He stumbled back, the two men at his sides reaching out to steady him as he nearly fell.

Natasha's hand struck out catching him across the face in a stinging slap. Yes, they definitely had everyone's attention now.

"How dare you," she raised her voice to shout at him in Italian. "Sleeping with my brother?" she at him in mock outrage and watched his mouth drop open in shock. "I don't ever want to see you again." She tossed her head and flounced away to move through the crowd, dodging the reaching hand of one of the men flanking Morelli.

Her amusement was shortlived. She took off running, spewing apologies to the people she jostled along the way. She could hear shouts as the men came after her, less cautious in their pursuit.

Where the hell was Gianni? Her thoughts raced as she ran through the alleyway. Almost before the thought was completed a hand shot out from a doorway and she was nearly yanked off her feet. Terrified, she opened her mouth to scream, the sound being cut off as Gianni's mouth swooped down to cover her own. He shielded her body with his own, hiding her from view as Morelli and the two men raced by. The kiss lingered before Gianni raised his head to study her face. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing absently over her lips as she struggled to catch her breath and slow the rapid beating of her heart. "Are you alright?"

She nodded slowly.

He met her gaze with intensity and took her shoulders in his hands. She trembled. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she gasped.

"Good." He took her hand and looked both ways before stepping back out into the alleyway. He walked swiftly. She almost had to run to keep up with his long strides as they made their way quickly back to his car. The ride back to the hotel seemed to take an eternity. Natasha was silently gazing out the window. Gianni was tense, constantly checking the rear view mirror for a following car as he took a round about way route back to the hotel.

Now he sat, studying Natasha silently as he sat across from her. He'd felt like he'd been sucker punched when he'd first seen her. She wore a strapless red satin dress that hugged her body and fell to mid calf. Her lustrous dark hair was piled atop her head and long curls lay about her face. She wore pearls in her ears and about her neck. She frowned and winced in frustration as she sat upright and began pulling the pins from her hair. The dark ringlets fell about her shoulders. Gianni smiled faintly as she reached up and ruffled her dark locks. Her beauty took him by surprise on a regular basis.

She raised her brows at the smile on his face. "I don't see that there's much to smile about right now, Angiolini."

The smile broadened. "Why don't you head to bed, bella. It's been a long day."

She stared at him mutely a moment before standing. "Sure."

She was heading towards her bedroom when the sound of his voice halted her. "Natasha..." He stood and came towards her to stand over her. He slipped his arms around her waist to pull her against his body. His smile was playful. "Don't you think it's time we dispensed with the separate bedrooms?"

A small smile tilted her own lips as she toyed with the buttons on his shirtfront. "That could be arranged I think."

She slid her hands into his dark silken hair and pulled his head down to her own and kissed him fiercely.

With a groan he set her away from him. "Soon, bella," he breathed and brushed a dark curl back from her face. "Go to bed. I have to make some phonecalls."

Natasha slipped out of his arms and stepped out of her heels. Reaching behind her as she padded into his bedroom she pulled the zipper down on the dress. The satin fabric slid down over her hips as she walked and she stepped out of it continuing on to the bed.

The sheets were cool on her heated skin as she slid between the covers. Gianni stood leaning upon the door frame, his look a mixture of amusement and appraisal. He shook his head.

"What?" Natasha ventured.

He straightened, "Go to sleep, bella. Sweet dreams," as he closed the door.


Natasha dreamed. She dreamed she was standing in the foyer of her grandfather's house in Rome. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was the same, as was the ornate staircase winding upwards. The black and white marbled floor was the same. But things were not as they had been in her grandfather's house when she was young.

At her feet lay the bodies of slain men such that she could not move in any direction lest she tread upon them. Bile rose in her throat as blood pooled beneath her feet, soaking through her slippers.

Suddenly two arms wrapped around her waist and chest, slamming the air from her lungs. There was a voice in her ear, "stupid bitch." Morelli. The metallic flicker of a blade sprung before her eyes before settling against her throat. "It's time I've rid myself of your nuisance."

Natasha screamed before the spray of her own blood covered her vision and she felt herself falling to join the bodies that lay sprawled upon the floor of her grandfather's house.

She tried to scream but no sound would come out.

"Natasha, wake up!"

Natasha thrashed wildly in the arms that restrained her. Tears streamed down her face.

"Natasha stop!"

She paused. "Gian?" She lay on her side. Gianni lay pressed against her back, his arms wrapped securely around her. She sighed and sunk into his embrace.

Gianni tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the side of her throat. "What was it?" he murmured. His lips brushed her ear and she shivered.

She snuggled against his body. "It was MOrelli."

She felt him stiffen and there was a low growl in his throat. It rumbled through her. She turned in his arms to face him. "That wasn't all..." She shivered. And she could see the concern in his face as fear seemed to seep from her very pores and fill the space around her. "I was in my house, my grandparent's house. There were bodies upon the floor—everywhere. So many...the floors were covered in blood..."

"Shh..." he soothed and smoothed her hair back. He brushed his lips lightly over her own before looking down into his bella's face. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears. Her full pink lips were slightly parted. He bent his head and ravished her mouth, leaving her gasping before he gently turned her over onto her side again and carefully fitted his body against hers. "Go to sleep, love. I'm here," he said as his breath caressed the shell of her ear.

He felt her small body relax and slowly her breath became steady with sleep.

Gianni exhaled heavily and then closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.


A rippled of pleasure jolted through her body and she cried out. Natasha's deep cerulean eyes flew open.

She felt the hard naked length of Gianni pressed against her own bare skin. Where had her clothes gone? But—oh she didn't care. His arm was slung over her hip, his fingers doing wonderful things to her woman's place.

She nearly screamed as his flingers rubbed against her clit and she let out a lusty moan. Gianni's deep chuckle vibrated through her. "Ah, my lady wakes," he said softly.

He put his mouth to her throat and she arched. She could feel the hard length of his heavy cock nestled between he nether cheeks.

"Ah, Gianni please!" she begged and he laughed.

"What is it, bella? Was there something you wanted?"

Natasha groaned in frustration. He was toying with her. She shifted and his cock slipped to rest between the folds of her wetness. She smiled as she moved her hips, sliding him against her, her wetness coating his shaft, but not allowing him to enter.

Gianni groaned at the exquisite pleasure. The little minx had turned his own game on him. Gripping her hips, he placed the tip of his cock against her entrance and slowly he entered her. He stopped, allowing just the head to enter her. He brushed his lips against her hair. "Is this what you wanted, bella?"

Natasha moaned and still he held her hips still within his grasp. "Gianni, please," she gasped. And gripping her hips he plunged into her hot sheath.

She cried out in pleasure. Gianni lay still, enjoying the feel of her gripping him nearly to the point of exquisite pain inside of her. He lay still a moment, the spasm of her muscles around him coaxing him even harder.

Slowly he withdraws, nearly completely then thrust hard back into her depths. She cried out as he thrust harder and harder into in long deep strokes. Faster and faster he pistoned his hips, the pleasure building until he thought he might lose his mind to the sensations drawn from his woman's body. Yes, his woman.

He cried out her name as he spilled his hot seed into her welcoming body.

His cock jerked inside of her, setting off an explosion in Natasha. Ripples of ecstasy flooded her body in overwhelming waves. "Gianni!" she shouted.

He felt her shudder in his arms before she went completely limp. "Love?" he murmured.

She only moaned.

He smiled and kissed her temple. He did not withdraw from her but merely pulled her closer, securely against his body, staying within her, feeling the aftershocks of their passion.

"I love you," he whispered to the sleeping young woman as guilt and regret washed over him for what he would have to do. It was long before he drifted into his own troubled sleep.


The shrill ringing at his bedside jolted Gianni from his sleep. Natasha moaned and snuggled against his side but did not waken.

"Ciao?" his voice was husky with sleep and contentment.


Gianni stiffened and his arm curled around Natasha.

"I'm in the lobby."

The line went dead. Gianni stared at the phone a moment before replacing it on the bedside table. He gazed at the ceiling. He looked down at the girl sleeping on his chest before slid carefully out of bed.

He emerged from the bathroom dressed in a button-down and black slacks. He turned to see Natasha asleep, her mass of raven hair cascading over her shoulders allowing him a limited view of her golden skin. She had pulled up the white sheets, holding it modestly at her breast. Her caramel colored skind contrasted wonderfully against the pallid sheets. Her heavily lashed lids were closed, her full lips beckoning him to forget the phone call and join her. He could lose himself in her glorious body forever. He traced a finger down the smooth column of her throat before gently brushing a kiss against her brow. Giving her sleeping form one last perusal he left the room.


Natasha was alone when she woke. She didn't need to call Gianni's name to know he wasn't in the apartment and she felt a wave of disappointment. She slid out of bed and slipped into his white French cuffed shirt. She held her wrist to her nose. It smelled like him.

She went to her room and pulled on a khaki mini and a pair of puma running shoes. She snatched up the car keys and the room keys and headed to the lobby. She took the stairs and stopped at the balcony overlooking the ballroom-like lobby and searched for Gianni.

He was talking to a tall bald man. He smiled and laughed. The men hugged and Gianni's eyes met hers over the man's shoulder. The smile slid from his face and he froze.

The man, catching Gianni's gaze, turned to look up at her. His eyes widened in recognition then narrowed in menace.

Spots danced across Natasha's vision. Benicio Morelli. She stumbled back from the railing and tripped up the stairs. She raced for the hotel suite and burst inside and ran to Gianni's bedroom. She wrenched open his bedside drawer and hauled out the gun.

"Natasha?" Gianni stood in the doorway.

She whipped to face him, gun raised. "Get out of my way."

"Natasha, don't." he stepped towards her. "Let me explain."

"Fuck you." Gritting her teeth she squeezed off a shot into the wall to his right. He didn't flinch but stopped where he was. "Move." She gestured with the gun. His eyes locked on hers he stepped out of the doorway and into the living room. Natasha followed and backed into her room. "Stay."

She backed to her dresser and took the white envelope from the drawer. She then shoved a bunch of clothes haphazardly into a Biasia shoulder bag. When she emerged Gianni calmly was sitting on the couch watching her every move intently. Natasha stood across from him, the coffee table between them. The gun was held loosely in her grasp. "I'm leaving. Don't follow me."

There was a shattering of glass and Natasha heard the zing of a silenced gun. Gianni was up and diving over the coffee table. He tackled Natasha to the floor. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs. And in an instant she was pinned beneath him. They were chest to chest, his hands locked around her wrists. A moment passed while they did nothing but breath. More shattering glass. The windows of the suite were reduced to shards of glass in moments.

Natasha struggled beneath Gianni. He groaned and she rolled him off her. She looked down at him. His shirt was soaked with blood. His eyes were squeezed tight in pain. He gripped his left shoulder with his right hand as blood seeped between his fingers. She hesitated a moment in indecision before grabbing up the gun as she crawled over him and crawled towards the door.

"Natasha, no!" he shouted as he struggled to raise himself to sitting position, his face contorted in pain. She yanked open the door and staggered to her feet. She raced down the hall and hit the stairwell door running and dashed down the stairs.

A great many footsteps were coming up the stairs and she plunged into the third floor hall. She sprinted to the elevator and took it to the lobby. She drew many curious looks as she strode through, bloodstained and in disarray. She handed the wide-eyed valet her keys and he brought up an ice blue Z4. She slid the key in the ignition and the car revved to life when Gianni came out of the hotel, bloodied and pale, gun dangling loosely in his hand.

Natasha raised her own gun and aimed at his chest. Her hand shook and her voice trembled. "If I see you again, Angiolini. I swear to God, I'll kill you."

He took a step towards her.

No, she couldn't shoot him. She hauled back hand hurled the gun at him with all her might. He ducked and she floored the accelerator. The Beemer lunged away from the curb leaving Gianni to stare after her.

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