“Ah, I see mybellezzehave found one of the secrets that enchants this place.”
Closing my eyes tight, I kept my back turned to him for as long as possible. I knewthatsmooth voice. I knew the sudden thickening of the air in the room, his giant presence swallowing all of the oxygen.
This time, there was no table to separate us, or guards to watch over him, keeping the world safe from his dangerous charms.
Rosaria made a slight noise. Carmen and Juliette stared unblinkingly at him. We all huddled together with the children.
Freedom looked even better on this man, which was saying a lot. For his age, he was still so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at him. His reflection shone through each of his sons—piercing beams that came close to blinding.
From our last conversation, when he was still behind bars, I knew he’d only speak Italian.
“It must be no secret now the family you have married into—and now are. Your children have Fausti blood pumping through their veins. A distinct history to be proud of, to celebrate. Machiavelli and Medici roots. The Ferrari. Our Southern roots, with its romance language and warm spirit.” Luca’s voice came out low, smooth, so romantic that it almost made you want to dance a slow tango. “If you take all that we are, aristocrats, free thinkers and men of great intelligence, poets and artists, fruit peddlers and fisherman, men of honor and strength, women of beauty and courage, you have what we are on the tip of your tongue. We stand for North and South.We are Italy.”
Somehow, without even realizing it, the four of us fell into line, waiting to be received in order of the birth of his sons. Instead of greeting us in order, though, he stood in front of Juliette first.
She blinked up at him, and Angelo gave him that unabashed stare that, as Brando and I joked, meant, “I have a better head of hair thanyou,so what?”He looked so handsome in his tiny suit. All the boys did. I should have brought my camera.
Luca asked permission to hold his grandson, and Juliette shoved Angelo at him, as though she couldn’t think of anything better to do.
If the situation wasn’t so serious, it would have been comical. But it was serious. In this moment, Juliette was the perfect example of how the innocent creature will offer itself up to the hungry predator. There’s something beautiful in the sacrifice, something that satisfies the desperation in the hunter’s eyes. Perhaps thatsomethingis knowing his every desire will be fulfilled byyouand nothing or no one else.
“Ah,Angelo, come to yourNonno.”
He held the boy close to his heart, then held him out again so that he could stare into the eyes of his blood. He spoke to him in Sicilian, so I was lost as to what was said.
Handing Angelo back to his mother a second later, he leaned in close and whispered something in her ear that made her blush and look to the side demurely. Then he touched her cheek with the back of his hand gently, probably to feel the heat in her blood.
He greeted each family, repeating this same welcome down the line.
The women’s reactions were all different.
Carmen’s mouth still hung open, not able to look away, while Rosaria acted as though she were an aristocrat receiving the king, even going as far as bowing to him.
Finally, he reached us last.
“Ah, Rose,” he said. “A beauty that makes me ache, yet with the fierceness of the thorn. And my granddaughter, Mia Bellarosa. A rare gem is the woman who gives us a daughter of our blood.”
Mia blinked her doe eyes at him, just as hypnotized as Juliette by this man of her blood. But something in her expression was curious too—she was trying to figure out how this man fit into her life. Brando had recognized the look in her eyes before and had heart pains because of it. It was the same look in my eyes, he’d said, when I became curious about things best left alone.
It seemed to me that Mia was noticing that this man was a lot like herpapàand was trying to make sense of it. His essence was a reflection of her own father, and she caught it, as young as she was.
He touched her chin. “She has the look of my mother with her mother’s eyes,” he said after studying her back for a minute. It was almost as if they were having a silent conversation. “She brings great joy to my heart already.”
“I miei occhi,” he called her.My eyes.
After studying his granddaughter in great detail, he leaned in close, whispering in my ear, “I’ve missed you, Rose. That kiss lingers in my dreams.” He stood, the air moving around him in a caress, but leaned in again, going to place another kiss on my lips, but I turned my face, offering him my cheek.
Juliette moved uneasily. Carmen was still open mouthed. Rosaria gasped. I glared at him.
“No more favors then.” He smiled, so easily, so damn charming with his sensual lips and perfect teeth. He had wicked eyes, too. Eyes that would draw out the full moon. “My son has taken offense to my behavior, or you would not be denying me. Allow me to tell you, Rose, what I know. He punished you with his love after our meeting. He is an extension of me. All of my sons are. But if my son has a problem withme, he will take it up withme. All of my sons will come tome.”
It would take a fool to think that Brando would leave me and Mia alone in this palace.
I was no fool. Neither was Luca Fausti.
Luca Fausti would never come to any man, except for his father. He called the shots. He said who and when and where and how. All of this was an intricately orchestrated plan.
Brando had known it. So had I.
