Savio
The house was quiet. I was glad about it. Phillipa was busy tending to Lucia upstairs, and dinner was sitting on the dining room table when I entered. There was no one else there. The massive oak table had only two plates on it and a note from Romeo, letting us know that he had left to check on the shipments. They didn’t involve me when it came to those things. My father was of the mind that I wasn’t ready. It had been years. I didn’t believe there would ever be a time when he would believe I’d be ready.
The smell of the food wafted into the air, causing my mouth to water—freshly made lamb ribs glazed with rosemary and thyme and a fresh Caprese salad on the side. I reached for my cell phone, which was nestled in the front pocket of my dark wash jeans. I checked my messages and saw that I had a notification sent by the chef who stopped by a few times a day to prepare or drop off meals. Since the arrival of the Bonifacio siblings, there’d been a need to cook even more meals. My father always considered it frustrating to have someone always cooking in our kitchen, so he purchased another property for the chef to cook from. The deliveries were always fresh and delicious.
I pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. I was already salivating at the thought of biting into the lamb when Natalia entered the dining room. She was wearing a flowy pink dress and had her phone out as she approached. She barely seemed to notice the food at the table as she pulled out a chair across from me. I was surprised she was able to navigate the room at all or able to tell where her plate was.
I took a bite of my food, starting with the lamb. The meat was tender and juicy. It melted in my mouth like butter, making me wish my plate was covered in ribs. I was ravenous. I’d barely eaten a thing. I’d spent the entire day thinking about what had happened with Alessandra. I wanted to run back down to her cell and spend the entire day with her, but I knew that was dangerous. I didn’t need my father to find out about it. I wasn’t even sure how he’d react.
“You seem off,” Natalia said, lifting her eyes up from her phone screen. “And you look pale for some reason.”
I chewed a piece of lamb, savoring it before I swallowed it. “I’m always pale.”
“Not like this,” she said, gesturing to me. “I’m your sister. I know when something’s up. What is it?”
I kept eating. I didn’t want to tell her what was going on. How would Natalia react? She’d been known to dislike the Bonifacios just as much as the rest of us. We were enemy families, after all. It wasn’t like Lucia and Romeo, either. We weren’t bound by some agreement our parents had made. Alessandra and I, whatever had happened between us, it had happened organically. That was what made it all the more dangerous.
“It’s really nothing.”
She pursed her lips as she reached for her fork and stabbed it into the Caprese salad, trying to corner a cherry tomato against her plate. “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”
I wanted to keep silent, but there had to be something. There was, of course, the death of Antonio. My sister and I didn’t condone murder. It was something that came with our father’s line of work, but not something we had done much of ourselves. I knew that Natalia had yet to kill anyone. I, on the other hand, had shot more than one person in my lifetime. Goosebumps formed along my skin at the thought. I wasn’t even sure if she knew about Antonio’s death. Still, I wanted to know her reaction to everything that was happening around us.
“Did you know that Antonio Bonifacio is dead?”
She swallowed hard but remained silent. Her expression fell dark, and I immediately regretted letting her know over dinner. She hadn’t been told. I could tell from her reaction that she’d been in the dark about Antonio’s death.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice low. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s all just bullshit.”
I winced from the sharpness of her voice. There was frustration there, and I understood completely. We were all fed up. It had gone on too long, and no one had wanted any of the Bonifacio siblings to die. They hadn’t really done anything to us to warrant death. What had they done? They’d welcomed us into their home, and we’d massacred their parents, tortured them, and chained them up like dogs.
It made me feel sick.
“Is that what’s bugging you?”
I lifted my eyes to hers. “Not just that. I don’t really want to get into it.”
She nodded and returned to her food. The tension between us was pressing, and the silence was heavy. She was lost in her thoughts, and I was lost in mine. Neither of us wanted to confront the idea that it was partially our fault. We hadn’t stopped our father, nor had we done anything to help the Bonifacio siblings. What had I been doing? Harassing Antonio’s sister, and then sleeping with her.
I ate my food quickly, not wanting to stick around the table much longer. I’d delivered the news, and whatever time we could have spent together was beyond repair. Once you learned of something awful like that, there was no going back. My heart raced at the thought of anything like that happening to Alessandra.
My brothers didn’t get back from the warehouse until later in the evening. The text from Marcello had been cryptic, but that wasn’t a surprise. Almost everything he did was cryptic. He hardly said more than two words a day.
I wasn’t sure what they wanted to meet about, but I assumed it was important. They were both in the parlor room, enjoying a drink. Romeo had a glass of wine in his hand, and Marcello had a beer at his feet. I figured they had the right idea. I made my way to the solid gold bar cart and started to pour myself a bourbon—no ice. I didn’t want to feel anything else. There was already so much going on inside my head that I was beginning to lose my focus. I just wanted to numb the thoughts for a little while.
The sun streamed in through the tall window behind Marcello. The white couch had a halo-like glow around it as he leaned back against the cushions. Romeo always sat in the black leather chaise lounge with his feet up. The room itself was minimal, but everything in it reeked of money. My father loved the look and feel of gold. In a way, it was just like he was—cold.
All day, the house had been silent. I craved the sound of Alessandra’s voice. I wanted anything, really, to break the monotony of the day. It was clear that the heaviness of Antonio’s passing had affected more than just myself and Natalia. My brothers were sitting around in a silence that was unlike them. Despite being a man of few words, Marcello was exceptionally quiet. Usually, he would give some kind of reaction to seeing me—a nod, a gesture, or, shit, even so much as eye contact—but there was nothing.
I had never seen everyone in such a mood. I had seen them on bad days, but nothing like that. Marcello was always quiet, but the others weren’t. So what made them so quiet all of a sudden? It was as though the silence encapsulated the moment. Each of them was lost in their thoughts with a strange expression on their faces. They were frowning, and the room was heavy with their thoughts. Whatever they were thinking about, it wasn’t good.
I stood beside the bar cart and brought the drink to my lips. The smell of alcohol filled my senses. I hated the smell, but I loved the taste. I held my breath as I took a swig from the glass, feeling goosebumps all over my body as the burning sensation filled my throat. It felt better than I was expecting. It’d been way too long since I’d made a drink.
“So, how did the shipments go?” I asked.
Romeo swirled the wine in his glass, staring into the red liquid as though it would give him the answers he needed. “Fine.”
