“I knew then—”
“That my name was a warning,” I finished for him. Those were the same words he had used that night, before he offered me his hand and told me it was time to go. I had almost burned up in flames. “And I’m still sticking my cold hands down your pants.”
“You do more than that now, baby.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“I should’ve known then that you were going to be more than a handful.” I blinked at him in rapid succession, trying to drive my point home.
“Baby,” he said, opening and closing his free arm. “Stop being fucking punny.”
After a second, we both laughed, squeezing hands, a shared history between him and me to comfort us in the midst of a strange place.
Mastino came to my side, and the kids hovered around us, staring. The raven-haired little girl with the rose piped up first.
“You are from the movie,” she said to me in broken English.
“She is not a beast!” The little boy she had been chasing hissed at her. “How could she be? She is…bambolina,” he said dreamily.
“A doll?” Guido asked him. “Or a beautiful woman?”
“Sì,” he raised a hand at me. “Look at her.”
The rose-wielding girl smacked him on the head with it, a shower of petals drifting to the ground in a slow flutter. He blinked a few times but was mostly unfazed. Yes, he was a Faustifor sure.
“I did not say she was a beast!” The rose girl called him something rude in Italian, and Romeo and Guido laughed. “Clean your ears of wax. What Isaidwas that she is Belle fromBeauty and The Beast.” She blew out a hot breath, her raven hair shining like black silk in the sunshine. She rolled her eyes and then looked at me. “Romeo says this is true. Men, ah?”
“Men,” I agreed with a laugh.
“It is true? You can dance?” another little girl asked me. Sofia, they had called her. She had auburn hair with the prettiest hazel eyes, very catlike. “Guido says Romeo does not know what he is talking about. You are a ballerina, like the one I see on the television. She spins like this.” She spun around, putting her hands above her head.
“Well done!” I said, clapping. She smiled at me, her fair skin going as pink as a blush petal.
“Will you dance for us?”
“Sì!”
“Per favore!”
I slipped off my shoes and set them to the side. I dug in my pocket, retrieved an elastic band, and set my hair in a proper bun. Setting myself into position, I posed my hands just right, and then pirouetted for them.
On one turn, I caught a glimpse of Vincenzo creeping around, about to scare the kids. I stopped just in time to hear their squeals as he bared his teeth, lifted clawed hands, and ran after them, making frightening noises. Like doves startled from a tree, they scattered in all different directions, some giggling and some running toward the villa, crying for theirmammas.
I held Brando’s hand while I slipped my shoes back on and grabbed my bag from the car. Vincenzo met us halfway to the villa as we made our way toward it. I held tighter to Brando’s hand and moved closer to his side.
Vincenzo grinned at me. “You do not scare easily. This is good.”
“No,” Brando said, keeping his eyes forward as we continued on. “She doesn’t. Even if she did, she’s next to me. Either way, my wife fears nothing.”
I caught the uneasy glances between Romeo, Guido, and Rocco. They caught it too, the steel in Brando’s voice. And the weight he had placed on “my wife.” A warning.
Vincenzo seemed to enjoy taunting me. I wasn’t sure why. Or was it Brando he was after? Brando wasn’t the type of man to allow another man to even step foot on his lawn, so to speak, so if Vincenzo wanted to start the territorial war, Brando was going to finish it.
Guido shoved at Vincenzo, making his smirk seem even more taunting. Vincenzo retrieved a cigarette from his pocket, lighting up.
He used his pointer finger and thumb to clear a piece of tobacco from his tongue, before he separated from our group, going to talk to one of the lookouts scouting the property.
For the first time, I caught a glimpse of resemblance between Vincenzo and Guido. It was something about the profile. Again, most of them were related, but some more distantly than others.
“Guido? Are you related to Vincenzo?”
