“Or the right,” I said. “It fits both.”
“Sì.” He patted my hand before he let it go. “This is true. But we must decide—left or right. Life is about decisions.”
“Sì, nonno.” I was worried about the word game with him. It was never what was said but how he said it that mattered.
“It would be an honor to watch you get married before I am gone.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t even want to think about that.” Then I looked up to find mamma’s eyes on me. I didn’t like the look on her face. Especially when her eyes followed my grandfather’s. They were fixed on something in the distance.
Saverio.
It didn’t sit right with me either. I could feel the contemplation rolling off my grandfather’s shoulders like tension. That was never good. It meant that he was thinking about what should happen. And that meant I might not have a choice. Unless my father stood up to him, which he had in the past. But this situation was different. My life was in jeopardy, and if we needed the protection of the family, his word was law.
Nothing escaped my grandfather. This was his kingdom. And there was no doubt word had gotten back to him about my relationship with Saverio. If we were doing what lovers do…my grandfather would expect marriage. He’d done it before—ordered people who were having commitment issues to get married.
I went to make a hasty exit, claiming I didn’t want to be late for practice, butnonnocalled my name before I could get too far.
“Yes, Grandfather,” I answered in Italian. When I turned toward him, a lazy wind blew, but it was strong enough to pull my hair into my face. After I removed it, he met my eyes.
“When life presents us with a choice, if we do not make the decision, life makes it for us, ah?”
I glanced at mamma before I left. No doubt her face mirrored mine. Those were ominous words. My grandfather might assume the power of life and make the decision for me.
Chapter9
Saverio
The week was uneventful, as far as threats went. All Mia's shows were received with roaring applause as the curtain came down, and no psychotic props came after me again. But something had changed. And it was the biggest threat of all.
How the leader of the Fausti family, Luca Leone Fausti, looked at me.
I didn't fucking like it.
Most men cowered when he looked their way or appreciated when he acted like they were invisible. Even when it seemed like a man wasn't worth his time, he always looked, though.
He'd been staring at me. Contemplating something.
I looked between him and his granddaughter, whose thoughts, judging by her forlorn expression, were a million miles away. The Faustis, like most Italians, were known for their family dinners. I was invited to this one by Luca himself, the invite coming from Brando. It was more like a grunt, but Scarlett was there to smooth it over. She always was.
I didn't like the look on her face, either. She moved pieces of food around on her plate with a fork, the candlelight highlighting the beauty of her face, but also the lines of worry. Maybe she felt me staring at her. A second later, her eyes rose to meet mine, and I silently sucked in a breath.
The green of her eyes in such a pale face was enough to drop a man like me to the floor. It was so fucking unnerving. Especially when I could tell a wealth of information stood behind those emerald gates.
Whatever she was thinking, like her daughter, she didn't like it.
Another pair of eyes sent heat waves across the table, aimed at my face. Her husband. He took a sip of whiskey, watching me as he did.
Rocco looked between the two of us, shaking his head, but it was so subtle not everyone noticed it.
I did. Like Luca. Like Brando. Like Rocco. Like my father. I noticed every fucking thing.
The elephant in the room was noticed by everyone, though.And it went by the name of Elio Ascari.
He was one of the fastest men to come out of Italy since Luca Fausti. Ascari was a race car driver, like Luca had been in his youth. If Luca was ranked as the number one Italian racer of all time, Ascari was already at number five. Matteo had invited him to dinner at the request of Luca.
We sat across from each other, while Mia sat next to her grandfather. Her eyes would lift to meet mine every so often, but she was avoiding me as much as she could.
No doubt because of the pissing contest between me and this motherfucking speed demon. All throughout dinner, he kept attempting to make conversation with mine. She was polite, at her graceful, charming best.
