How viscous.
Never did they shy away from bloodshed to get what they wanted.
If a tentacle could be slipped inside a profitable business venture or into an office of power, a Fausti would make good use of it. They were extremely private about their dealings, but actions speak louder than words. No words were necessary when hundreds of years of character has been passed down like a family antique.
They were worth billions, and the name even more on the street—especially when it came to threats.
Which brought me back to my original concern. My husband and what he must be feeling about all of this.
“Here,” I said, handing Mia to her father.
He gave her a fat kiss on the cheek before setting her in her stroller, handing her a little stuffed giraffe that she’d taken from the villa. She spotted her cousins and started waving the toy, calling out to them in longaaaaasand high-pitched squeals. The ends of her hair curled up around the headband, so perfect, and I smoothed them down some before I wrapped my arms around her father’s waist, breathing him in.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Ballerina Girl.”
“You,” I said.
“Be more specific.”
“Do I really need to? Or are you buying time because you don’t want to talk about it?”
“The latter, but since you asked, this is a means to an end. That’s it.”
“I get it,” I said, holding him tighter. “But you never wanted this, and now that it’s here—staring you in the face—does it make you think? About how your life could’ve been? ‘IfI had grown up here…’”
“Onestamente,” he said, looking down at me. His eyes were covered, but I could see through the mask. I felt all that he was giving me. “Mi riguarda.”
“Honestly, it concerns me, too,” I said, repeating his words in English. “But I’m here with you. It would take an act of God to budge me from your side.”
I’d never allow this to consume him or take his soul from mine.He is mine.And no one, not even the devil himself, would get close enough. I’d stand between him and whatever threatened to unravel our entangled roots.
“Promettere,” he said.
I squeezed him even tighter. “I swore in front of God. Only He knows how true the words are. Only He can know.”
Brando fiddled with the cross around my neck for a moment before he spoke in Italian. “I found love in the most unexpected place. Right in front of me. You’ve been with me all of my life.”
Standing on my toes, I placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ll always be with you.”
I wrapped my arm around his, and we walked along the paved path to where everyone waited.
When we came close enough for Brando to leave me, sending me off with the women, he seized my hips in his hands, not allowing me to move a step forward. His eyes connected with mine and no words were necessary.
He wouldn’t be far.
I had no fear. If Brando trusted this place, then so did I.
Rosaria, Carmen, and Juliette greeted me with quick kisses and hugs after he let me go, and one beside the other, we made our way to the open front door.
Ettore stood next to a woman in black and white livery. She nodded to us, calling us each by name, and then showed us into the front parlor.
A myriad of scents greeted me at once. Tomatoes, garlic, artichokes, olives, and a stroke of something spicy, peppers. Whiskey, wine, cigar smoke. That same undercurrent of lemon and dank was also present.
This place had recently been opened to fresh air and the world, the same as the villa we were staying in a few lanes away.
It was impossible not to feel the history and the merging of a new day.
The children’s voices merged, creating an echoing chorus in the vast space. The ceilings were so high that we had to look up to take it all in.
