“Depends on the couple. If both sides are amicable and set on each other, I know some legendary couples who have started out this way. I also know some train wrecks who keep the body count behind the…gates, as you say.”
She looked away from me for a second, before she met my eyes again. “What about you? Do you think you’ll be happy in your marriage?”
“It is not a true marriage, Ava.”
“Itis.” For the first time, I heard bitterness in her voice. “You’re going to stand in front of an entire congregation, I’m assuming, and make vows to her. You’re going to give her children. In my eyes, there is truth to the marriage. It’s not just for show. Because you’ll both get kids out of it.
“How fair is that going to be to them? You run home to amistresswhenever you can—one you keep and love in the darkness, while you set their mom in the light, but keep her lonely there. For show. Like one of those statues of a heartbroken woman who people interpret because the sadness can be felt.
“It moves us because it makes us feel. It makes us constantly wonder…what was that thing that happened to her? That thing that was so powerful, she was able to cast her sadness in stone for eternity?” I opened my hands to give emphasis to the question.
“It is not like that for all women. Some women use us for our name and what it means in this world, just as our family uses theirs to make stronger alliances.”
“Those ‘alliances’—”she made air quotes “—are innocent children who didn’t asked to be brought into this fucking mess of a world, already messed up because of who their parents are, and what they feel, or don’t, for each other.”
“You are taking your feelings and casting them in stone, Ava. You are the statue, but a harder one to read. Everything about you is strong, determined, but there is a secret passageway in those blue eyes. When the light hits them just right, I can see the place where your deep sadness resides.”
“You’re not allowed to interpret my interpretation of this.” She slid her hand out of mine, crossed her arms over her chest, and lifted her chin.
Thefuck around and find outstance.
“Or how to feel about this,” she continued. “My feelings are my feelings. The end.”
I went to the wall that housed all the keys. The safe was made with indestructible materials and the newest technology, but it also had a secret emergency latch that released the lock if the power went out.
A biometric palm reader scanned over my hand, and the lock clicked open. I searched the keys until I came to the set I was looking for, then locked it all up again. I grabbed two helmets from a vast collection hanging beside it.
I walked over to a motorcycle sleek enough to look like a racer but comfortable enough for riding two up. Aristide was a brilliant automotive stylist and had designed this bike. It was matte black with gold trim. The body was reminiscent of a Ducati, but Aristide Fausti was making his mark on the world through his unique designs.
I nodded to the bike. “Get on, Ava.”
“If I say no?”
“We both know you will not.”
She bristled before her eyes slowly melted into a narrowed position. “You can’t say no to me either, can you?”
We both knew the answer to that. I would do anything this woman asked of me.
That was the most dangerous thing about a woman who could bring a Fausti to his knees. She could ask him to start a war with his own blood and he would do it.
If she desired it, he would find a way to fulfill it, if it did not disrespect the love between them.
My eyes locked with hers and I nodded.
Her shoulders seemed to fall with the weight of the power she suddenly held. Even though the order to get on the bike was at the center, it was only a proxy for the real issue between us.
What I would and would not do for her.
If she asked me to go against my family, I would, even if it started a war between us. I could tell she was not ready for that. Because she was considering my feelings and the position it would put me in.
She sighed and came to stand in front of me. I rubbed my knuckle against her lips, and after she closed her eyes, I took my position on the bike, and she took hers behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and holding on tight.
* * *
The weather was mild for a bike ride, even for early December, and we only stopped twice for a break. I wanted Ava to eat and see some of the sights along the way. She made a few comments while we were on foot, trying to figure out where we were going, but I refused to tell her.
Naples was only a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Rome, but we were traveling around an hour past to Candela. The streets in this area were quiet, and the piazza was already decorated for the season. After I parked and helped Ava off the bike, she took it all in.
