In this battle over my husband, Luca had that to fight against, as I had his sway over my husband’s decisions to destroy.
Another step closer, the pressure between them grew, two great forces attempting to live in the same small bottle—earth.
I had to stop the whimper from escaping my mouth, force and hold it down way below the surface, drown it until it took in so much water that my own lungs burned for air when Brando and Luca looked each other in the eye.
Brando’s eyes were even harder than the material the giant was made from. “You created me,” he said in strong, slow moving, perfect Italian. “For that—” He touched his heart. “But if you put another hand on my wife without permission, I will not hesitate to kill you. Do not make me choose between family and blood. The woman is my blood. I have vowed in front of God to protect her, and He has given her to me. She is mine for the rest of my life.What God has joined together, let no man separate.Tell me, father, are you above God?”
Another feeling joined in the silent war, quick and gone, leaving behind a scalding white stroke of the blade.
My eyes quickly moved to Ettore before they stilled on my husband and his father.
Marzio had given us his blessing before he passed on—Brando would not have to join in this life if he felt it was against the best interests of his family—using those same words.What God has joined together, let no man separate.
Ettore remembered it, and I felt it. Was it regret that he allowed me to feel? Or was it the reminder that he was mortal and would die soon that made his feelings so known? Whatever it was, it touched a nerve that couldn’t be hidden inside his failing flesh.
“No,” Luca said at once. “I am not. No further disrespect will be had on my part. Your wife is considered my blood. She is my daughter now, just as you are my son. But you had to see it. For your own sake. I know you dream of it. The kiss. A favor for a favor. It was a simple business transaction between family.”
Brando didn’t turn his eyes away, but I felt the shift of his anger flow toward me, an entirely new branch. Out of sheer panic, I’d gone to see Luca against his wishes. At the time, I’d felt that Brando had left me no choice, and I refused to allow thatmanto direct our lives.
No one gasped, but the room stilled as if the last breath of oxygen had been sucked out of it when Luca moved as fast as a pouncing lion. He used his arm to pin his son, my husband, against the wall, his elbow deep in his throat. Brando didn’t make a sound. He didn’t even make a move to fight him. He almost seemed to expect it.
Luca’s eyes were fire compared to my husband’s stone.
No words were spoken. None had to be. Whatever conversation went on, went on silently, between father and son’s eyes.
Being as well versed in this language as I was, I understood perfectly.
You come in my house and threaten to killme. Make sure if you try, son, you do it or you will regret it.
Releasing Brando as soon as he had him, it seemed, Luca stood straight. He fixed his suit and then ran a hand through his hair.
His speech seemed to end there,but there was more to it than that. We were deep in the Fausti romance language, symbolism at its finest. I felt the words he didn’t say as though they belonged to me.
No more disrespect would be had on his part because he was done with me. His appetite for knowledge had been fulfilled, where it concerned me, and his thirst for punishment toward his son for challenging him. Therefore, conversation ended.
Luca’s entire demeanor changed after the violent outburst, and he had already moved on.
“We must work together now,” he said seriously. “Even with those who we consider enemies amongst ourselves.” He didn’t look at him, but I knew he was referring to Ettore. “Some sins a man cannot live with, and he is living with what he did to our father. It has doomed him, but we must show the world who we are once again, despite what transpires amongst blood.”
Luca said this as though it were no more than a formality, karma takings its toll and share.It’s what he deserves, his blatant attitude communicated.He will take it like a man. God will deal with him, but until then, family will still have him in times like these.
Brando didn’t move for a minute or two, and the only sounds emanating were the children making their usual noises and the tenor coming through the hidden speakers on low volume.
At last, Brando fixed his suit and hair, and then fell in line with his brothers as leader, the rigid posture and face made of stone still in place.
* * *
After each son had been looked over, patted on the neck, and kissed on each cheek, Luca invited everyone to sit at his table fit for a king. “My sons,” he said, opening his arms, taking his seat at the head. “All together. At last.”
As much as I would have enjoyed admitting that he was a rigid man, who even at the table couldn’t separate from his monster, he wasn’t. Far from it. The easy smile and contagious laughter were present, though with a certain formality that directed his sons’ behavior.
Romeo showed the biggest change of all. Out of the Fausti four, he was the most jovial. He smiled and laughed, when the situation called for it, but on low voltage. No one would be slapping his head at this table in jest, or the head of it might take it completely off.
On the opposite side of the coin, there was a sense of awe present among three of his sons and their wives, especially when Luca used his charm as the weapon it was.
“We will sit and eat together as a family. My sons will allow me the honor of refilling their wives’ glasses with the finest wine to hear their true laughter.”
“Hmph,” I said underneath my breath.
