“He’ll be here,” I said, moving closer to the scene.
The man still laid sprawled out on the floor, his head leaking blood as fast as a faucet. Young, judging by his profile, with long raven lashes fanning across his olive-colored cheek. Though he could have been older. Italians aged gracefully.
Aunt Lola credited it to all the olive oil and red wine—the fountains of youth!
Damn, my mind was starting to pick out softer memories to shield me from reality. No matter what it picked out, it couldn’t hide the body in front of me. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest at the sight of him.
“Did he…I mean…what happened?”
“He’s one of the men who belong here,” Brando said, eyes hard, voice clipped. “He was delivering a message from Cesare.”
“I don’t understand. He decided to go against his own family?”
“It happens,” Brando said. “He was threatened. Caught in the middle.”
“How do you know?”
“Those were his last words before I silenced him.”
13
Brando
Even though he sat behind his desk and I stood in front of the window, I could feel him breathing down my neck.
No matter how much space stood between us, none might as well have existed.
How could I ever be that far from the man who created me? I knew without a doubt who my father was. I’d never denied it. His shadow went wherever I went.
Rocco, Dario, and Romeo sat across from him. My seat was empty. A tense silence had descended upon the room.
I’d sit when I was ready.
From my viewpoint, there was a clear picture of the estate and the hectares that stretched beyond it. For the moment, I was engaged in watching my wife and daughter. She and Mia were feeding the swans.
Scarlett had been summoned with the other women earlier. She was put in charge of a party that was being planned in Venice. The summons not only included the party, but Luca ordered each of my brother’s wives to pick a charity or two and become involved in it, representing the Fausti name.
After Luca had seen a video of Scarlett speaking in fluent French at a charity event she had attended in France at some point, he wanted them all to do the same.
He was assuming the power of this family, and he had old-world ways. No matter who or when, to have a meeting with him, one had to come dressed as a lady or a gentleman out of respect.
To grace him with our presence, I wore a suit that Scarlett had had custom made for me. She wore a cream-colored sweater-looking dress—the neck high, the fit tight all the way down to her calves. Black belt, black stockings, and high black heels. Her lips were rouged, her eyes winged in dark velvet, and her hair sparked red in the light.
Scarlett had taken her heels off, though, to keep up with Mia on the grass. She had brought her camera and snapped pictures every so often. Eunice andMatisat on a blanket, watching, and books and toys were scattered in case Mia wanted to play or have someone read to her.
Donato, Guido, and Nino hovered close.
Luca’s rule had worked out in my favor. She looked stunning. She always did, but there was something special about her. Her complexion shimmered as though eternal candlelight burned beneath her skin. Her eyes were childlike, wild with abandon as she laughed with our daughter.
Both of my girls were staring at Scarlett’s open palm, some type of bug crawling in her soft hold. Mia went to touch it, and when it moved, she closed her eyes and giggled. Scarlett laughed too, but she watched Mia in the moment instead of closing her eyes.
An unbidden smile came to my face. Even though at one time I was a man who didn’t want this, I refused to imagine a world without my hearts in it.
I lived for it. I’d kill for it. I’d die for it.
Eunice joined Scarlett and Mia to see what the fuss was about. As she took the mysterious bug in her own palm, Scarlett took a moment to gaze at the scenery around her.
Her camera at the ready, her face serious, almost sensuous. The gold Tuscan air seemed to encase her, illuminating her even more, enhancing her already vivid colors.
