“Wine?”
“Sure.”
He orders a bottle of Pinot Grigio, and it arrives along with a bucket of ice. I feel a little conspicuous at all the attention as baskets of bread and plates of olive oil arrive.
A plate of antipasto shows up with different cured meats, cheese, and olives to nibble on. I’m famished and want to eat everything in sight, but I know more is coming and hold back. This is Italy, there’s always more food.
My dish of veal Milanese does not disappoint. I would have licked my plate if I didn’t have an audience. Dante watches my every move between bites of his frutti di mare and seems to approve of my healthy appetite. Dante’s right-hand man, Mr. Secret Service, ate risotto and ossobuco and still had room for tiramisu. These boys can eat.
When in Rome, eat like a Roman. We’re in Milan, so I’m enjoying the northern cuisine that is so different from my own. Normally, I would order calamari in a red sauce, but there is nothing normal about today or yesterday.
I trust whatever Dante has been stewing over the past day will be over soon. I’d like to see his sexy fucking smile again . . . among other things.
13
Dante
Itry my best to hide my amusement at Juliet’s first real experience with designer fashion in every shop and I can’t help cracking a smile as I catch a glimpse of her glowing face while she tries on a Prada belt. The sparkle in her eyes outshines the bling on the buckle.
Not to mention the kick I get out of watching her try on sky-high Christian Louboutin heels for the first time. Like a baby deer on unsteady legs, she holds onto the sofa while I pretend not to notice her ankles wobbling. The salesgirl holds her hand and shows her how to keep her shoulders over her hips. After several minutes, I feel confident she can wear them without falling headfirst into a punch bowl.
We continue walking through the galleria now packed with tourists, many of them wealthy like me, with more money than we know what to do with, who don’t bother looking at price tags and never ask what something costs.
I notice many of the young women are with older men, no doubt many of them bought and paid for with some unspoken arrangement I call the marriage bargain. The young wife gets the lavish lifestyle, and the old husband gets the arm candy and the price tag that comes with it. As much as I’m a self-made man with a taste for vengeance, I still hope to have more to look forward to in my old age, if I’m lucky to live that long.
I’d rather die than have to buy a woman to be with me but then, if I’m not going to have kids, or marry, I’m destined to be old alone- if I should outlive my father that is and all of a sudden it’s real to me. The life of solitude I vowed to keep doesn’t look as good as it sounds.
I give Juliet some space while she picks out intimate wear but tell the sales associate I want everything in the collection, not just the practical pieces. She gives me a knowing grin and says she’ll take care of it and I’ll be very happy.
Flavio pays the cashier as Juliet drops a tiny vibrator from the counter into her purse and I have to stifle my amusement. She surprises me with her boldness. Was it for fun or is she that horny?
“Oh, these are so cute!” Juliet interrupts my salacious thoughts of what I could do that would satisfy her more than that vibrator, but I proceed without a comment as we leave the lingerie store. It appears she might be stepping out of her shell and dabbling into areas that have more grey.
She dashes into a shoe store to get a closer look at a pair of denim Vieira P Strass Orlato sneakers she spotted in the window. She’s got a good eye, they will look perfect with those tight jeans she’s wearing, the ones that hug her perfect ass. She lets out a squeal of delight when the saleswoman finds them in her size.
I stifle a chuckle at her youthful energy. I have to remind myself that she’s younger than me and the tie-dye look is her style, not mine.
Riccardo scoffs at her youthful glee, but I have to admit that I’m enjoying today, being able to relax and take the moments as they come, moments that aren’t covered in blood and filled with family drama.
It’s a refreshing and welcome break from what I encounter on a daily basis. I cherish the moment before I nod and say, “We’ll take them.”
At this point, there is not a chance in hell I’m not fucking her. She deserves better than me, but we all have our crosses to bear in life. If Conti doesn’t like it, then it might mean the war that is probably inevitable anyway.
My phone vibrates. Conti? I walk outside, putting on my Polaroid sunglasses against the late afternoon sun that is still intense. Riccardo follows me, giving Flavio a signal to stay with Juliet.
“Pronto,” I answer the phone and hear Conti breathing at the other end.
“You are truly the scum of the earth, Dante. I’m surprised your mother didn’t suffocate you in your sleep when you were small. You better not hurt her.”
“I can assure you, Conti, she is fine. But I want what I want—the same agreement you had with my father, without a drop of blood spilled, or she won’t be fine anymore.”
“How do I know I can trust you? Your father double crossed me, stole shipments that were mine.”
“Listen to me, Conti. We have a new situation. I’ll guarantee your daughter’s safety, by keeping your secret, if you abide by our agreement.”
“You ask too much of an old man,” he fumes, his anger exploding like Mount Etna as his voice booms through the receiver so loud, I have to hold it away from my ear. I hope he has a strong heart. Otherwise, he might not make it through this phone call.
“How did you find her, anyway?” His gruff undertone gives way to what could almost be interpreted as fondness for a child he has never met.