Ricci DiAmbrossi stared across from his patio at the well-kept lawn just beyond it. At thirty-three, he was a dashing man any woman would struggle not to fall for. He was that stunning. Don of the DiAmbrossi family and one of the most powerful men in Italy and the head of the local mafia in Sicily, it was easy to see that affluence and power oozed off this man.

He was four inches past six foot and had an accompanying musculature that accentuated that height. His dark, glossy hair swayed slightly in the breeze, curly locks that gleamed in the sun. He stood, arms folded across his black tailored suit. There was an accompanying black tie over a white shirt.

As he stared motionlessly across the lawn just beyond his patio, some birds chirped in the afternoon quiet. But he did not hear them. He did not feel the breeze that had taken over from the sun's receding minutes ago. And when the sun went up again, he did not feel it either.

His mind drifted.

***

"Ricci, I have to go. The kids will be late," Siena said.

He did not release his hold on her. "You shouldn't have to take care of them on your own. We need a nanny."

Siena sent him a glare. "I will take care of my kids, thank you very much."

Ricci sent her an annoyed look. "It's becoming an annoying excuse," he said.

Siena did not look sympathetic. "Tough luck," she said.

"Siena-" He almost sounded pleading.

She softened her gaze on him. "Ricci, I have an appointment right after I drop them off. I still have that trip to Sardinia for a meeting. Don't worry, I'll make it up to you when I'm back."

"Promise?"

"Why don't I seal it with a kiss?"

And she did.

As their lips met, they realized why they were together: they couldn't stay away. Something within her wanted to be with him no matter what happened, as did that darkness within him. It burned in his eyes. It burned more than fire.

He deepened the kiss and was rewarded with a low sound deep in her throat as he pulled her closer.

She pulled back, pecking his cheek and arranging her clothes. She took up her purse. "I'll see you tonight. Don't be late for dinner."

"Hmmm."

She headed for the door of his study as he watched her. He had gone on his trip soon after.

That night when he arrived in Sicily, the first call he had received numbed him for a few seconds.

"... Signore, the- the hotel staff at Hotel Gonzaga said there had been a shoot-out and Signora had been shot. Her body crashed through the glass and plunged into the sea… We- we have been trying to contact the rescue team that had been invited: Divers and the fire department...a part of the hotel had caught on fire."

Ricci was not sure he'd heard right. "Concentrate on one thing at a time," he said, annoyance filling his voice. He certainly did not care that the hotel was on fire. "Where is Siena?" He snapped.

"Signore, I said she was shot and she crashed through the glass and-"

"-Where is she now?" Ricci snapped. "By God you will hate me if I have to repeat myself."

"They- they haven't found her body yet. The rescue team has been searching the beach and the sea. There was no sign of her."

"Tell them to search harder. I'll be right there. Tell them they have to find her."

"Si signore."

***

Ricci sighed as he moved from his earlier position to stand by the edge of the paved floor that was the threshold between the patio and the lawn that spread beyond that.

Hummingbirds in varying colors flew about a frangipani tree farther up front. They distracted Ricci for a bit. It seemed he was only just realizing he was here, now, the past only existing within his mind.

He heard some footsteps behind him.

He turned and saw his mother approach. He regarded her in silence and then turned back to the lawn.

Bernadette walked up to him and stood at his side.

"You've been outside for quite a while. I feared you would miss dinner."

"I'm not hungry, mother."

"My son-"

Ricci took in a sigh. "When I'm hungry, I'll eat."

They stood in the silence. The birds that had been chirping about receded in their noise, planning to retreat as dusk approached.

"I know you miss her," Bernadette said finally, sympathetically.

"With every fiber of my being," Ricci said. "With every sinew, every muscle. It never got better. It never got easier, despite the years. After all these months, I'm back where I started."

Bernadette sighed. "I know. But thankfully, the kids didn't miss her too much. They didn't feel her absence."

Yes, Ricci agreed. Their twins didn't suffer the feeling of missing their mother. That was something, wasn't it? Well-worth the sacrifice.

He remembered when he'd sat slumped on his swivel executive chair in his study, his face a mask as he sat in the quiet of the room and drank.

It was days after Siena's body was not found. After a full week of sustained search, Ricci had been told that her dead body might have washed up somewhere else. In any case, she couldn't have survived. There was no need to continue searching, except the idea was that he at least wanted to give her a befitting burial.

Ricci had fumed at the man at the beach side where he'd very nearly been camping at for the past few days and had been just two seconds away from beating the man up. How dare he imply that Siena was dead?

Ricci had left the place soon after, harshly dismissing all the special divers he had contacted because they were incompetent, as they'd proved, not having found Siena.

Hours later, he had been in his study where he mulled over what the current situation meant for him; only truly considering it then.

The door to his study swung open then.

Ricci could remember that afternoon, while he was still fresh in grief for his wife, that Eleonara Giati had come into his study, maneuvering her way past bottles of scotch and Kalahari; as well as some bottles that lay on their bellies their names were obscured from view. His ex and the woman he had first loved was in his study after such a long time.

He had raised his foggy gaze to her. "What are you doing here?" He asked angrily. He hadn't been in a good mood since the night of the incident and everyone that came in contact with him suffered for it.

"I heard-" Eleonara started. "Ricci, I heard about what happened to your wife-"

"So?"

"I knew you were going to take it badly," Eleonara said. "Ricci, I care about you. Regardless of our past relationship, my family and yours have been close for the longest time. I just want to help."