I go searching for Dante, but he’s not down yet and I’m not chasing after him. And my legs are closed, now that I know he’s been with someone else. Italian men like to have someone on the side, I know that, but that’s never going to fly with me.
I ask Riccardo, who just blew in, if he can look up my father online for me.
“What are you looking for, an arrest record?” he asks.
I shrug. “I just want to know what the world thinks of him.”
“You might not like it. He’s flashy and not like us when it comes to trying to stay undiscoverable.”
“I think I can handle it.” I sit beside him on the couch in the formal living room that shows no wear on the cushions, and I wonder again if Dante has any friends.
I peer over his arm to see his phone screen when Dante bursts onto the scene.
“What are you doing? We’re meeting Conti today, or did you forget?” he snaps at us. “Let’s go, we have to leave. We have a long drive ahead of us.” I’ve never seen him so on edge.
All his calm demeanor with underlying ruthlessness goes flying out the window as he barks at the guards next, while Riccardo tries to direct him to the task at hand which is getting us into the Rover. Eventually, we get ourselves organized, and half the entourage are in front of the Rover while the other half are following behind.
I’m sure Dante is Conti’s least favorite person in the world, and I feel like an Italian princess who has a bounty on her head, but our entourage shows strength, unity, and power. I just hope these windows are all bulletproof. The subdued mood in the vehicle isn’t relaxing to say the least and I wish Dante would lighten up.
“I just wanted to look up my dad,” I whisper. “Riccardo did nothing wrong.”
“You don’t have to explain his behavior to me, or yours,” he says curtly. “But you need to remember your place here. And don’t ask too may favors. You flash those dark brown eyes of yours with a tiny smile pursed on your lips, and well, it’s hard to refuse,” he grumbles, and he turns his head away to look out the window.
We’re moving at a good clip given the mountainous roads that are all curves and sharp turns. I can tell we are moving closer to Tuscany as I start to see vineyards, and soon, we are passing old trucks filled with grapes that have just been picked. We’re near my hometown, in fact, we will pass it on our way to Siena.
“Do we have time to stop?” I ask my captor.
“Not a good idea with all the vehicles. I’m sure we’ve received too much attention as it is. Maybe on the way back, I can have them hang back and we can make a quick stop. But no promises.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I say meekly. I have to remember I’m only alive at his will.
I’m not even sure why I want to stop. Mama would never recognize me now in all my designer clothing and I will feel like I have betrayed my humble upbringing if I buy into his luxurious expensive lifestyle where he can purchase anything he wants. Except me. I’m not for sale.
We roll though my town of Greve and pass old trucks with wagons that are filled to the brim with grapes for wine. Picking the grapes is a job most teenagers do in high school before they move on to other things.
“So, who is she?” I ask without preamble.
“Who?” He turns to face me with a piercing gaze, and now I regret asking him.
“Whoever bathed you in her perfume last night.”
“Just an old friend, nothing for you to be concerned about.”
“I will never willingly submit to being just another mistress for you,” I snarl.
“I know.”
“Then, why did you do it?”
I look out the window and try to act like everything is fine, but it’s not. I’m deeply wounded by how casual and uncommitted he is to everything except this long-standing feud with my family. A feud that I never asked to be a part of, and one I never knew of, but now I’m living daily.
“You’ve got nothing to fear. She’s a friend, that’s all.”
“Ha, friends with benefits.” I shift away from him on the back seat.
“I don’t answer to you, or anyone else,” he counters. Then he falls silent.
I’m resolved not to speak first, and I know that probably makes him happy. He likes his solitary world, alone, no complications, no drama. I’m sure his job has plenty of all that and he shoulders it alone. He might consult with Riccardo, maybe others, but so far, with me, he’s a sealed vault.