“Here they come,” my father said, his eyes pointed forward as he spoke. “Lucia, get down here now. I want all of us here to welcome them.”
I wanted to ask him where my brothers were. Why weren’t they around at such an important time? There was no telling how the Cavetti’s would be. I wanted to feel safe, and with them in our home, there was no way to feel that way. There were rumors, of course, that Lucia would marry into another criminal family. I just hadn’t thought it would be the Cavetti’s. She’d met Romeo more than once, but hadn’t divulged any information about him. She only spoke about such things with my father.
It had been a long time coming since the Cavetti’s had just started to make a name for themselves. I remembered hearing my father mention their name under his breath every time that something went awry. They were our nemesis and becoming harder to get rid of.
That was, of course, until they came to my parents to talk about uniting our families. I understood my father’s reasoning for the truce, but it was a dangerous move. It was actually happening, which was something my sister and I hadn’t fully prepared for. My father was a secretive man, but it was strange how he never allowed my sister and me to be a part of things. We were always left out, only to find out the news afterward.
The door began to open and my heart felt as though it was going to throw itself from my chest. Each one of them took their time entering the house, and they were not what I expected. I had never met any of them before. I’d only ever heard rumors. The rumors didn’t do them justice.
Each one of them had a cold and distant demeanor. It was hard to tell if they were even glad to be there. They were just emotionless, reminding me a little of androids from science fiction movies. They were all attractive, except for Angelo, who was shorter and stouter than his sons. Even Natalia, who I’d heard a lot about because of her reputation, was prettier than I expected. I’d met many people that passed through our house, but they were the first that left me shaken. There was just something dangerous about them.
I took a step closer to Alessandra and heard her humming beneath her breath. It was something she did when she was nervous. I tried to keep my eyes lowered, not wanting to look them in the eyes. My father was known for being a hard man, but this family took it to the extreme. The way they walked in was strange, as thoughtheyowned our home. I could see why they’d taken over some districts of Chicago in only a few years—they had a confidence that was undeniable.
I could hear the excitement in Lucia’s voice as she approached Romeo, taking him away into another room. It happened quickly, and I was surprised to see that she was even remotely happy to see him. Knowing Lucia, though, it was an act. She knew she had to set things right from the get-go and make sure that everything went smoothly. I could feel someone’s gaze on me and lifted my eyes to see his burrowing into my soul. He was tall and wider than the rest of his family. There was no denying that he was handsome, in a rugged way.
“Stay here and make nice with the Cavetti’s,” my father whispered, eyeing me and Alessandra. “I expect you both to be welcoming. I don’t want tonight to go poorly. Understood?”
We nodded and held our breath as my father passed us.
Angelo Cavetti began speaking to my mother, who was as cordial as she could be under the circumstances. She’d had multiple glasses of wine during dinner, which had stained her teeth red. She was smiling at Angelo, that same practiced smile I’d seen from her so many times before.
I kept close to Alessandra. She couldn’t stop humming and it was becoming distracting. I wanted to run upstairs and get away from the situation. The tension in the room was enough to make me feel uneasy. I couldn’t rely on her for strength, as she was having a difficult time herself. There was no one to lean on. I simply had to remain calm.
But I should have expected it to be awkward from the start. Our families were, after all, always neck and neck, trying to one-up each other. It didn’t matter if it was over territory or getting distribution through a certain port or road. There were always issues between us. So to have us all together in one room, when it had never happened before, was bound to cause friction. There had been so many rumors about them that seeing them in person made the rumors all the more real. I didn’t believe that what I’d heard had been hearsay. There was definitely some truth to them.
I felt myself recoiling under the eyes of the tallest man, who began to approach us slowly. He glanced down on Alessandra and I. I couldn’t remember ever feeling as though I was being inspected. It was like being placed under a microscope and examined. He lowered his eyes to my cleavage, bringing them down and up again. I could feel my face growing red, averting my gaze from his.
I’d heard that the Cavetti men were cold and rugged—I really hadn’t thought it would be so severe. It was as though he encapsulated that kind of masculine energy, and I couldn’t help but feel a little intrigued as he stared down at my sister and I.
I waited for him to say something, anything, but he remained silent. Alessandra had calmed on her humming as he’d approach, and I hadn’t even noticed that she’d stopped. I gripped at the fabric of my blue dress, feeling my hands shake with every moment that he lingered. There was a predatory glint in his eyes that made me feel as though I was a gazelle being watched by a lion amidst the brush. It was a cold gaze and not one that I’d ever gotten before. There was that instinctual pull, though, that was telling me that I should run.
“Marcello, come over here. I want you to confirm something for me.”
The man in front of us turned back to Angelo Cavetti and walked away without saying a word. I couldn’t help but follow his tall, sturdy figure. His hands were clenched into fists, as though he couldn’t relax. I understood how that felt, but there was no way I could voice it. My father asking us to mingle was clearly unnecessary.
I glanced from one Cavetti to the next and let out a deep breath. Those people didn’t want anything to do with us—especially not me and my sister. They were after something, that much was obvious. I wasn’t sure if my father was aware, but they had the look of men that were going into a town and sizing it up, all so that they could burn it to the ground and steal the townspeople’s valuables. I could picture them doing that to our home, especially while they inspected each piece of furniture, their eyes fixated on their prize. It was like seeing greyhounds at a racetrack, all of them vying for the rabbit.
They barely noticed that Alessandra and I were there watching them and noticing the small intricacies of their movements. We didn’t trust them. We also weren’t Lucia, after all. We were just the figments of the family, the forgotten girls of no worth, who often disappeared into the background. I was fine with it. It afforded me the option of noticing the details of the people who walked into my parents’ home.
“I’m so uncomfortable,” Alessandra whispered, eyeing them carefully. “Are you okay?”
“No. I hate everything about this.”
Marcello turned back to us, having heard us speaking. There wasn’t even so much as a shift in his expression. I wasn’t surprised. He was definitely the most aware of all the Cavetti’s. I figured that also made him the most dangerous.
And the way they were acting? It wasn’t normal at all.
* * *
I feltas though I could breathe when I was finally able to return to my room. Alessandra hadn’t even said goodnight. I always thought of myself as the less anxious twin, and that visit from the Cavetti’s was just one instance where she froze. I couldn’t blame her, either. It felt as though the air had been strangled from the room, and the tension had felt like heavy cement on my shoulders.
I was glad to be back in a space alone. I sighed deeply as I brought myself to my desk, which was sequestered in the corner of the room. There was a black gridwall above the desk with a number of sketches pinned along it, revealing my art for only my eyes to see. I peered over them, all of the portraits of the people that had made an impact on me. I couldn’t help but wonder what his face would look like along them.
No. He was too cold, too distant, and far too stern-looking.
Most of the portraits I had along the gridwall were of family members and friends. Some were even people I admired, like Audrey Hepburn and Sophia Loren. He definitely didn’t belong up there. Still, I had the urge to draw him. There was something about his face that I’d never seen before in a man. Something that was intriguing.
I can only assume it was not being able to read him. It was near impossible to tell what he was thinking. Even when his eyes were ogling me, examining my sister and I so crudely, I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought.
