"I'd like to get to know her."
"You can come by anytime. She's home and bored to death."
His phone begins to ring, and he looks at the screen. "Edoardo. Looks like we’ve run out of time."
"It's okay," I embrace him again. "I'll see you soon."
He stops at the door, "Promise?"
I cross my heart and whisper, "And hope to die."
The next day…
After the meeting yesterday, Raffael took me out to dinner in the city, where he filled me in about the meeting with the other capos. As expected, there was a big scene about him becoming a capo out of left field, a man with no name. A soldier, as far as they were concerned, but Edoardo plowed through the other capos like a bulldozer. Raffael smirked, "I don't think he made many friends with this move."
"Probably not," I agreed, sipping my wine, "let's work on relationships to make sure the fallout lands only on Edoardo's head and not on yours."
"I love it when you're all calculating," Raffael grinned.
I had to admit, I kind of like it too. There's something inside me that enjoys this game of power, revenge, and plotting. Of staying ahead of the game.
"You were born a queen," Raffael said. "One day, I'll be Don, and you will be my queen."
I didn't even pretend not to like the idea. For somebody who had always lived in the shadows—kind of like Raffael, come to think of it—it's refreshing to spread my wings and find out how high I can fly.
Raffael summarized the reactions of the other capos before I filled Raffael in on my meeting with Marcello. Ending with, "I'd like to go see Marcello and Violet tomorrow,"
"You have your car, driver, and guards," he smiled at me.
"Thank you." I looked into his eyes and knew I was falling even more in love with him in that moment.
And even more this morning, when he kisses me goodbye before my driver takes me to Marcello's place. It's important for my brother to see me out alone, to realize that I haven't exchanged one cage for another. Raffael needs time to catch up at his office, too. He needs to get through Roberto's things and introduce himself to the men who survived thecleansing. I wouldn't be surprised to hear about more heads falling. Raffael drilled me about Roberto's staff and men, wanting to know who knew what and how they behaved around me.
I still can’t believe how much my life has changed over the last month—and is still changing. I get sick to my stomach when I think about the things Raffael told me about Venezuela. The thought that he could have died there, and I would have never known about him, hisfeelings for me, what he did for me… it nearly kills me. It's only bearable when I can hold him.
And now I'm about to meet my future sister-in-law, for real this time, not as part of her job. I liked her when she was his nurse, and I'm sure I'll like her now too. Still, I feel nervous when the SUV pulls up in front of Marcello's skyscraper.
Marcello must have already announced me, because the doorman and security guard both greet me reverently, "Signora Giordano."
Oh, how I hate this name. For that reason alone, I can't wait to finally marry Raffael. I haven't officially said yes yet, even though our marriage is more or less a done deal; we told Edoardo as much. It's nearly unavoidable if I don't want to jeopardize his new position as capo. And I'm okay with that. Alright, more than okay, after all, I love the man. Still, there is a part of me, the teenage girl, that yearns to be asked. Really asked, rather than it being a done deal or as a suggestion on choices for my future life.
Silly. I know. I tell myself, as I enter the elevator and push the button for the top floor, that I should just grow up and tell Raffael. I'm sure he wouldn't mind doing something romantic to pacify the teenager in me. But even sillier, I want him to do it without me saying a word. Yeah, I know, stupid. As if the man doesn’t have enough worries to take care of already, without having to cater to the whim of a hormonal woman.Hormonal woman.That's when it hits me. I'm late for my shot with Doc Brown.
Instinctively, my hand moves to my stomach. As archaic as it may sound, a son would solidify Raffael's position more. A son. A little boy who looks just like Raffael. A vision swims before my eyes, and a warm smile spreads on my lips. I need to talk to Raffael about it, of course, but the thought of us being a family doesn't just warm me; it heats me from the inside out. A little person I can pour all my love into and who loves me. As little as I'd ever planned for the future, before Roberto, a child was always part of it. I accepted from a young age that one day I would marry for La Famiglia. But I've always wanted children. The moment at the shelter comes back to my mind, and with undisputable certainty, I know that Raf would make a great father.
The elevator stops, the sound of the doors opening rips me out of my musings, as do the four guards loitering in a formal anteroom. "Signora Giordano." They nod at me and open the heavy door to the suite.
I take another deep breath, plaster a smile on my face, and walk in. My first surprise is seeing Zia Rosa. I haven't seen her in years. Not since I visited Raffael in Sicily. Zia Rosa was a friend of my mom's. She followed Marcello after Daddy Dearest sent him into exile.
"Zia Rosa," I scream, surprised.
Zia Rosa drops her feared dish towel as she turns to me. Her eyes widen and her hands fly to her chest, "Oh bella figlia mia, my Sophia!"
Astonishingly fast, she rushes to me to embrace me in the hardest hug of my life. She still smells like cinnamon and garlic, so contradictory and so soothing.
"My sweet, sweet bella figlia," she gushes, kissing both of my cheeks. "Oh, that my old eyes see you again before I die. What a blessing. I prayed for you every night."
"Oh, Zia Rosa, I love you too. Ti amo." I kiss her cheeks back, realizing how much I missed her. She is so much warmer and more loving than my mamma ever was. Many times, I wished she were my mamma.
