SEVEN
AVA
Edna had givenme permission to start a Fausti Family column at the newspaper a while back. She was mostly indulging me, because our main audience was of the criminal variety, and if it didn’t pertain to what was going on in that second, they really didn’t care about facts and history, or how romantic a crime family could be.
What I found, though, was that my Fausti column brought in more female readership. They would reply and ask for more, especially when we ran features on each man and included a picture.
The column lasted longer than it would have because of the women who were subscribing just for that reason.
When I wrote the column, I wrote to those women like we were friends. Like we were all in an exclusive club and all honored to be there.
So…I’ve decided to go about describing what happened after the creep with the Scream mask left the office in a different way for this chapter of the story.
I’m going to talk to YOU. The reader. Just like I did the readers of my column. Because we’re in this together, right? I’m going to assume you’re here for the Fausti family just like I am. That you love them as much as I do. (And let’s digress for a second. I’m doing this for you, subjecting myself to torture such as…being close to men who are almost too gorgeous to be true. Italian vampires, really.Okay. Okay.We all know that part is a joke. We’d offer up our necks to any of those men.)
The truth…The Creep pushed me out of my safe place after he’d left Vice City, even though I was trapped behind its walls. I became highly aware of everyone and kept mostly to myself, claiming I had a lot of work to do. It was the most intense time of my life, not knowing who had allowed him in and knowing we were sharing what was supposed to be a safe space for all of us. I even distanced myself from Neil and Andrea. I doubted it was them, but it was my neck on the line.
October came and I got a call from the Creep—who instructed me to call him ON—with more instructions.
Paris would be my first stop, and he gave me the name of a hotel.
If you’re thinking I’d be dumb enough to use the plane ticket he bought and stay at the hotel he instructed me to…you’re wrong, my friend. I cleaned out my savings account (because if I’m going to die, I’m going to enjoy every penny I saved for this once-in-a-lifetime trip) and used the money to buy my first-class plane ticket and new clothes, and to secure rooms in Paris, Rome, and Venice.
ON (how ridiculous, right?) hadn’t mentioned any place other than Paris, but I’d always wanted to visit Rome, and my gut told me Venice was a no-brainer, especially since that’s where the coronation traditionally takes place.
Also, if things got dicey in Paris, I could try to escape to Italy.
I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. I left Edna copies of the plane tickets she’d bought for me and scribbled one word across them—arrivederci. I left Neil and Andrea a note, too, but just said that I was going to find my future. Neil called me at least twice a day since I left, but again, I wasn’t sure who to trust. If he was my friend, he would be there for me when I get back. He’d understand the predicament I’d been in.
Luci was in Italy, and I was going to track her down once I got there. The only warm spot in my life was knowing I had her, even though we were at odds. Minnie and Lilo were bright spots too.
If you’re worried about Hoffa…seriously, don’t. That bitch could survive total world destruction. But she’s mine, and I didn’t want to see her have to scrounge for her food. I dropped her off with Molly, the woman who lived next door to Sonny before he moved. She was always like a grandmother or great aunt to us.
Let’s fast forward to Paris now.
It’s a beautiful place, my friends, but I could feel my steps leading me closer and closer to the lion’s den. It wasn’t just a feeling. I had intel to back it up.
ON put me in touch with an artist by the name of Rainer Winter. This Winter has a picture of Scarlett Fausti he took years ago, when she was a ballerina in Paris. His sister either was or is a ballerina, and that’s how he met Scarlett.
Dude was totally obsessed with her, which would not go over well with her husband. Rainer rambled on to me about the picture, how artistic it was, and how she was his sad little muse. He told me that Scarlett and Brando were not together in Paris, and that without Brando, Scarlett’s heart had turned dark and was broken. He wasin jeopardy of losing a heart, like Tigran, but I said nothing because he was my ticket into the coronation, although it was being advertised as a charity ball.
It was Marzio Fausti’s moment to shine all over again, except this time it would be his son, Luca, who wore the crown.
I had no clue how Rainer knew ON, but from what I could gather, ON’s family was a patron of the arts and somehow put it into Rainer’s head that he should go to Venice and take care of whatever lingering business he had with Scarlett Fausti.
Which led me to that moment.
It was November, and I was there.
In Venice for the switching of power.
And it felt like I was getting close to the precipice of my life’s…everything. I was almost to the highest point, knowing where I must go next but hesitating for a second.
My makeup was done. My hair was done in big curls. My dress fit like a glove. I smelled like a million bucks thanks to the perfume I splurged on.
At that moment, I was a breath away from entering the Fausti’s world.
I was every one of you who have read about this family. Dreamed of them. Fell in love with them.
