The sounds of weapons being lowered seemed to chime around the room, until it went silent.
Brando lowered the knife. He stared at Giovi for a moment that seemed to span a hundred years. My husband’s eyes were more ruthless than the man who stared back. He finally nodded once and then put his hand to my back. The pressure forced me to move toward the exit in a choreographed rush, until we were in the clear and he practically shoved me into the waiting car.
The rest of the men followed behind, not wasting time to get into their own transportation.
We passed the Corleone sign in a blur, the car going too fast for me to even have time to blink. I sighed. It was probably for the best that Brando had made me wear a bulletproof vest.
* * *
He didn’t shout nor would he speak to me when we returned to the villa in Bagheria. Instead, he tore the room apart, an entire chair going out of the window with his pent-up rage. When he was spent, he ran a hand through his hair and went to retrieve the overthrown piece of furniture, and then he cleaned the room. This was his way. But he still wasn’t speaking to me much.
We hardly said a word to each other over the next couple of days, the tension between us as coiled as a tightrope. The entire villa was on high alert, expecting retaliation while preparing for Mamma’s party.Better safe than sorry.Now that Giovi has tasted power, he is thirsty for more. Perhaps the French will strike next, or Enzo out to avenge Ciro, his father.Those seemed to be the sentiments among the men.
I wasn’t in the celebrating mood, especially toward a woman who I thought had been accusing me of ruining her birthday. Perhaps because I was born, or because the entire world seemed to be on the hunt for us—I wasn’t too clear on specifics, and I didn’t really care all that much to find out.
Since I didn’t want to add “disrespectful” to the vendetta list she kept on me, I decided to dress for the occasion after Brando did. He stared at me through the bathroom mirror while I slid a hand down the knee length black dress with red roses painted all over it.
“I asked one thing of you,” he said to me, no emotion showing on his face. “One thing, Scarlett.”
“Do you think what I did is going to change his mind? He’s in cahoots with Nemours and whomever he’s working for. Ciro was in on the mess, and maybe even his son or whoever else is!”
“That’s beside the point. You lecture me about keeping myself safe and then you throw me in the ring. If that bastard would’ve laid a hand on you, I’d be dead right now. In fact, most of us would.”
“All right!” I almost screeched, throwing down the lipstick in my hand. It ricocheted off the counter, landing with a crack on the floor. “You made your point! I made a mistake. No. Actually, it wasn’t a mistake. Something happened to me. I couldn’t control my anger. He was holding back, not giving me anything, and then right before we left, all at once—whoosh! I went up in flames with the enormity of his truth.” I hadn’t even realized I had lost control until the entire room had pulled out their weaponry.
“He was testing you.”
“Yes.” I bent down to retrieve my lipstick. The entire case was cracked, fragments of plastic stuck to the soft part of the blood red colored stick. I flung it in the trash. “I didn’t mean to go after him like that. I was prepared to walk away, but not when he dropped his guard. I couldn’t.” I could feel his hate, every vile thing he ever did. I responded to him like a reflection in a mirror—the conscience side, the one who still had a soul and valued it.
“Now he knows the rumors are true. You confirmed what you could do.”
That set me back. I hadn’t thought about it in those exact terms.
“Yes,” I said, almost a whisper. “I guess I did.”
“Jesus, Scarlett,” he said, and turned around in a circle once before he plopped down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. He put his hand to his heart. “Jesus!”
“What difference does it make?”
I damn well knew what difference it made, but for some reason it didn’t feel safe to admit the truth aloud. It was almost like admitting defeat. I was a lot of things, but quitter was not one of them.
“You went from plain gold to gold with embedded diamonds.” He stood abruptly. It seemed like he didn’t know where to go, which way to turn. The enormity of the situation was sinking in and tugging.
“Do—” I cleared my throat. “Do you think Giovi will tell anyone else?”
“No. I wouldn’t be surprised if he fights for you. Double crosses whoever he’s working for to keep you for himself. Nemours only wants you for the gold—your dance. Giovi will want you for the gold and the diamonds now.”
“Should we leave here?”
“Tell me where to go that’s safe and we’ll fucking leave this instant.”
“I don’t know. Even though this place is big, they must know that we’re here.” I could hear children giggling outside of the window, and my heart constricted.
Brando stared at the ground for a moment, probably wishing it would open up and tell him secrets, or swallow him alive. There was something he wasn’t telling me. I could feel it, though he refused to share it. I got the feeling it had something to do with Lothario and the family meeting. I wondered if he was uneasy about Lothario double crossing us too.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “We’ll leave tonight.”
The party was limited to family and a few long-time friends, which meant that even though the affair was considered intimate, the estate teamed with people. I recognized a few faces from one family function or another, but some of them were new. There was always someone new.
