She had invited Naomi over for lunch, and she questioned the woman about his enclosure, his care, and what should be done about him.
Understandably, Naomi was hesitant to give up information, to ruin the good thing she had going with the Fausti family. Luca had agreed to build some type of wildlife sanctuary (and probably more) in Africa in return for the use of a lion or two at his leisure.
Pressing the issue, Scarlett even brought it up to Luca over dinner. He would drop by to be entertained every so often—he rotated, spending evenings with each of his sons and their families, or he invited us all to the castle to gather at his table. She had cornered him at our table because it wasn’t as formal as the dinners at thecastello.
If he was surprised that she’d brought it up, he showed no outward sign of it. He wouldn’t. His face alone would never tell the entire story behind his thoughts.
He had taken the time to listen to her. After he saw her dance, followed by the lion incident, I could see that he’d started to take Ettore’s ramblings more seriously.
When she was done with her speech, he had said nothing. He picked up his napkin, wiped his mouth, and then took Mia out of her highchair. Not that I was surprised, but he had made a comment or two about Scarlett’s cooking, claiming it brought him back to his own mamma’s table. He was usually more thoughtful after one of her meals, in thanks to being full.
Scarlett knew this. That was why she waited until after dessert to broach the subject.
Finally, he kissed Mia’s head and nodded once. He agreed to talk more on the subject if she agreed to spend the holidays in Zermatt, Switzerland. Florence was not known for its snow, and he wanted it for the winter. It was a place Marzio had taken him to as a child.
Without even looking at me, she had agreed.
She had been giving me the cold shoulder ever since the incident on the field with Mia, and after the Fausti emblem had been tattooed to my back.
If it took having a fucking tattoo on my back to keep my family safe, to announce who I was, who my skin belonged to, so be it.
It was what it was.
I was who I was.
I would protect my heart at all costs.
One thing about the situation stuck in my heart like a thorn, though, and would always be there.
What kind of mother sends her daughter in the middle of a field full of fucking dirt bikes?
Those words should have never left my mouth. I kept a short list of regrets, and that had been added to it. It was one of the reasons I hadn’t pushed her into forgiving me—she had the right to punish me for that.
Still, my breaking point inched closer.
The only reason I hadn’t snapped when my wife looked at my father instead of me was because Switzerland was neutral territory. Maybe it would be for my wife and me too.
19
Brando
Zermatt, Switzerland was on the border of Italy, about five hours or so from Florence.
The town itself was in a valley surrounded by massive peaks. It was known for its skiing and the Matterhorn (Monte Cervino, as it was known in Italy). No cars were allowed, only the electrical vehicles that took all the tourists and pedestrians from one destination to another.
The village was small, and something out of a picture book. Especially at night.
Mountains rose up as humungous shadows, their cloaks coated in bright white snow, while the valley burned with the lights from businesses, homes, and chalets below.
Luca had planned on providing all accommodations, along with men who would be around but not always seen, but Scarlett had her own plans as far as where we would stay. Her family had friends who owned a chalet in the mountains. She arranged for us to rent their place.
Lodged into the side of the mountain, with prime views of the Matterhorn, the chalet was all glass and expensive wooden beams; hand carved scenes alternated with indoor fountains that trickled nonstop in the hallways. We could see out of the windows, but the outside world couldn’t see in. An indoor pool flowed out to a heated infinity pool outside. The chalet also boasted a sauna, a world-class gym, and porches equipped with firepits.
The chalet even came equipped with something close to a panic room. The man who owned it came from old oil money and, as Scarlett had explained, was paranoid about people abducting him or his family for ransom. He had told her father about the room one night over too many drinks. She felt it was the perfect place for Mia and Eunice to sleep.
Though my wife was being as cold as the weather in this town (even her features had turned hard), I knew she had reserved this place not only because of the security, but because of the pool. She knew I’d love it.
Her face as she took in the scene from our bedroom softened me some. It was the first time since we left our villa in Tuscany that she truly warmed to her surroundings.
