After a few minutes of back and forth between Lothario and Stone Face, Brando lifted his hand in agive me a moment gestureand all of the men became quiet. Brando spoke softly in Sicilian, but loud enough to be heard, not a tremble in his voice. Then we waited.
An uncomfortable fire started in the pit of my stomach, and I was fearful of the reaction my bowels were having. I couldn’t understand the man, not a damn thing about how he felt or what he thought. Even with his eyes on me. They were sort of crazed. He had the kind of eyes that gave direction without pause or feeling. The kind of eyes seen on the evening news surrounded by a militia of guards, being led out of court by chains and shackles, still thinking they would trump the situation they were in.
I refused to move a muscle, to even squeeze Brando’s hand, or chance a look at our men. Though I couldn’t understand the sum of Brando’s declaration, the gist of it was easy enough to understand—his wife would stay, or no meeting would be held now or ever. I was his wife and his confidant. I was held to the same standards as the men when it came to the code.
My stomach chose this moment to make an obnoxious noise—if the rest of me refused to scream out, my stomach had its own ideas. I still didn’t give in and squirm. Lifting my chin higher, I met Giovi’s eyes, pretending he was just another face in the crowd at one of my performances.
“I hear things about you,” he said slowly. “Some say you are touched.”
Brando said something else in Sicilian—tell me,does this meeting go on or not?was what I gathered he had said. He didn’t want Giovi addressing me. All inquiries went through him.
While waiting for the verdict, I caught one of Giovi’s men makingmano cornuto(the sign of the horn) at me from under the table to ward off themalocchio(the evil eye). I grinned at him and he did it again. Another man grabbed his crotch in a protective move.
I was waiting for someone’snonnato appear out of the kitchen and bring out a bowl of water and olive oil to test the theory, to see if I had put themalocchioon any of the men while they weren’t looking.Perhaps this would happen later, after the witch left the building.
Giovi said something that seemed to bring the meeting to order. We started moving again, everyone taking seats around the table. Sandwiched between Brando and Rocco, I had to strain a little to see Giovi, who was seated at the head of the table.
Romeo sat across from me with Guido and Vincenzo on each side of him. Every once in a while, Romeo would catch my eye and I’d swear his showed humor for my sake, but that was where the humor died. The rest of him was stone cold seriousness. Uncle Tito sat on the other side of Brando, close to me at all times.
Lothario kicked off the sit-down in Sicilian, which meant that for the most part I was out of the loop. But I didn’t find it hindering. Instead of understanding the words he spoke, I was able to absorb the atmosphere and concentrate on feeling the reactions of the men around the table.
What interested me the most was Brando. I had a feeler out for Giovi, and he wasn’t giving me a damn thing, but for the first time, I couldn’t gage Brando’s feelings either. He was as void of feelings as Giovi was. I just felt confident that my husband’s death was not in our imminent future and that he was steady next to me, the humming a light sensation in the background, almost like gossamer wings fluttering against skin.
That was reassuring.
Lothario, on the other hand, was coiled, a snake about to strike, though his body language told a different story. If I was looking from the outside in, I would have taken him as the most relaxed man in the room, but to those that were more sensitive to feelings, it was apparent that he was anything but calm.
Ciro’s betrayal had rocked his world. Never in the history of the Fausti family did one of “their own” double-cross them. Not for all the hidden gold in the world, and at that moment, I was considered that treasure to Brando at the expense of his uncle.
Giovi stared at the table, his eyes distant, but nodding nonetheless to give Lothario a hint that he was listening. Then there came a point in time when Lothario said all that needed to be said. The silence in the room became deafening, even with the mutterings that came from the front of the restaurant and the clang of pots and dishes from the kitchen.
The silence went on long enough that some of the men in the room started to squirm, though the Fausti men sat like statues, not bothered by a thing like time or tension. Giovi finally shrugged and shook his head. “No,” was all he said.
No, he and his men hadn’t been involved in the hit. No, he hadn’t tried to poison our food. No, Ciro did not come to him and offer him anything to do bad deeds. No to it all, as far as Giovi and his “family” were concerned.
Lies, lies, lies. Bold face lies. He knew it. He knew that we knew it. But other than that, I got nothing from him. I had been in Stone Face’s presence for an hour and the man gave off less than cable television during a category ten hurricane.
Brando stood, bringing me with him, before Lothario even gave us the signal to leave. His brothers followed, along with Guido, Donato, Vincenzo, and Uncle Tito.
Giovi stared at Brando for a moment, which he did from time to time, sizing him up, then sat back in his chair, as relaxed as a king on his throne. Yes, there was power circulating around him. A power he had never experienced before, and that was saying a lot. Just being in the same room with the Faustis made his head swell. He might not have been giving me anything, but the truth was plain. He would’ve never had this meeting with theroyals of Italiaif someone else didn’t involve him. He took advantage of the circumstances.
Again, I couldn’t understand what Brando was saying, or the look Giovi was giving him, but I knew it had something to do with me—anyone touches my wife and I will steal their heart while it still beats, was what I took from it. But I couldn’t be sure.
Brando waited Giovi out after his vow, waiting for a reaction. Finally, after a minute or two, we received one. He nodded once. Then he muttered something about Marzio and Luca both being in the room with him this day. Brando represented them both.
Lothario didn’t seem pleased with Brando’s ballsy move. He ran the show, yet Brando did what he instructed him not to do, call the meeting to an end on his terms.
I knew Brando’s motives.She is my wife.He wanted to make that clear to the room. Somehow, again, it was me who centralized this group.
Before we moved, Lothario stood, fixing his suit, and for the first time eyed Giovi with true scorn on his features. He reiterated Brando’s words and added a few of his own. I didn’t realize until then that the Faustis had retaliated and had thrown the first grenade, but not in a war against thesanguisughe—they were small time—but against the organization that backed Nemours. It seemed Lothario was not ruling out the possibility thatthisgroup was working with Nemours and the French.
Lothario and his men started for the door and we followed. As I passed Giovi, our eyes connected, and he lowered his guard. He had been holding out. The feeling overwhelmed me enough that I had no coherent thought when I lunged at him. “You son of a bitch! You’re in bed with the French too!” I pointed an accusing finger at him. “Ciro. Nemours. It all makes sense. You lie!” We were dealing with a man who was working two sides in a huge effort to take down both of the Fausti’s powerful legs.What’s better than one alley? A few.It would take a couple of small ones to hurt the big, bad Faustis.
Apparently, pointing and shouting at the head was not acceptable, though. Before I knew it, guns were drawn. Giovi’s hand was up in a threatening position, in mid strike to slap me down, while Brando held a knife to his throat.
“Tell them to drop their weapons and I’ll drop mine,” Brando whispered to him, his mouth close to the man’s ear. “I can slit your throat faster than they can pull a trigger. I won’t be the only monster to die in this room.”
Romeo quickly translated for his brother, attempting to make the situation clear if something had been lost in translation. Giovi gave a subtle nod, his hand coming down to back the gesture up.
