“Hey, bring a guest to the wedding. Also, don’t share the information with anyone.” We shake hands.
“I’ll see you Sunday, a real romantic Valentine’s Day wedding,” I add.
“Silver lining, I guess. Juliet is happy, that’s all that matters.”
There’s a pep in my step as I leave. I just had my first one-on-one with my half brother. I’m stressing less after the meeting and watching him and his interactions with others gives me an understanding of the family dynamics. I’ve been the outsider in my own family my entire life and never knew why. Now everything is coming together.
I hope Dante’s on the level and the Michelis do not find something in the evidence locker that will jeopardize our relationship and put me in a precarious position. I’m not even sure it’s possible to breach the evidence locker.
Even if my brothers were to find out about me, I don’t want to order a hit on them, particularly when they didn’t steal the cryptocurrency and were kind enough to return Argon’s black book.
Dante was smart not to steal the bitcoin. He’s demonstrated he has principles. If you work for a Don with no principles, like that fuck Conti, you never know when he’ll go crazy and shoot the person next to him because he didn’t like the way the guy was breathing.
I’m glad Conti’s gone. According to the news, his sons disappeared and were later found dead. Some woman runs that outfit now with an underboss. She keeps a low profile.
It’s not like we keep a family tree on all the mafias. Even if we did, it would never be complete with the way some stay under the radar. We only learn of some men with inflated egos who flaunt themselves, then they get caught by the law or an enemy.
24
Valentina
Massimo is gone for what seems like hours but looking at my new watch, it’s only been fifteen minutes. He returns from his meeting as promised, entering the vehicle and sitting beside me.
Micro begins to drive.
“I’ve been invited to Dante’s wedding,” he announces. “It will be a small affair in Juliet’s hometown, so you’ll see more of Tuscany, and we’ll have a nice weekend.”
He sits quietly but the smug smile tells me something else went on in that meeting.
Everyone has secrets, and Massimo is no different. It’s as if his entire life is smoke and mirrors. He runs here and there, and after a week with him, I still have no idea what he does when he leaves the house.
Could be plausible deniability to protect me. Could be a mistress, but I don’t think he’d have enough energy after going twice in one night with me. He’s ruined me, there is no way another man could meet or exceed the sex we share or the heights to which we ascend together.
Afterwards, in the darkness of night, before I drift off, I often wonder if he would have picked me if it wasn’t for the tattooed creep at the auction. The contract that I once resented is now my saving grace as I don’t want to lose him. He has to marry me, but my pride would prefer he marry me for love, not obligation.
I hate when the girls in the shop check him out and I know they are thinking they wish he was with them. Who wouldn’t? I used to be that way watching Laura with Marco, not that Marco is as hot as Massimo, not even close. It’s just that she had someone to love her and see her for who she really is, to share things with, and I didn’t. I’m tempted to call Laura and share my sexual awakening, but I’m afraid it will break the spell if I share it with anyone.
I can’t imagine my life without him. Yes, he’s killed people but he’s also complex, and like me, he’s beginning to enjoy life. I catch him smiling when he’s not looking at me, and sometimes when he is, we’ll share a laugh, a quip, a commonality that tells me we’re not all that different after all.
I love it when Massimo chases me through the house and up the steps, laughing hysterically. It’s fun playing games that young lovers do. Other evenings, he teaches me how to play chess, or we’ll watch a show together.
He brings me flowers and there are so many Samira and I put them in vases throughout the house. I’m beginning to get attached to fresh flowers, not just because they’re pretty but because he put thought into it, and he picks them up himself.
He comes home every night even if he has to run back out. When he comes home late, he doesn’t reek of alcohol. We’re in our bubble, the place where magic happens, and life is good. But after every high, comes a humbling low and I can tell we’re both thinking it without discussing it.
Papa’s funeral was private, only family and low key. I urged Giovi to hold off on the service, but he said it would show he’s weak and unprepared to step into Papa’s shoes.
He’s still living with Mama, and I don’t see that changing even if he gets married. He said the bosses and appropriate command staff have all paid their homage and allegiance, but there’s something in his voice that concerns me.
I’m not sure Giovi is telling me the truth, or telling me what he thinks I want to hear. Surely, he understands I’m not as naïve as I used to be.
It’sValentine’s Day and time for Dante and Juliet’s wedding. The ceremony is on a Saturday so we’re spending the weekend, booking an Airbnb in Tuscany.
We’re on the way, Massimo at the wheel of his blue Italian sports car. Savio and Micro follow in the SUV.
“I hope Juliet’s wedding goes off without a hitch this time.”
“Me too.” Massimo turns the radio station to one with only Italian music.