He turned to me and lifted his glasses. The sun was out and hit his green eyes as he looked down at me. “You do not belong in the Faustifamiglia.” He pulled me close when I looked away. He took my chin in his hand and refused to let me look away from him. “You are too good for them. Even me.” His voice was rough, but tender. He kissed me the same way.
As he led me into the hospital, I was somewhat dazed. His soft always felt like the hardest touch I’d ever felt, but at the same time, it was that warm, gooey center from the amber that made the blood in my veins tingle.
At the entrance, he stopped and bought a red rose from a vendor. He drifted it underneath my nose, and a mischievous grin came to his face. I met it with a smile, and we both laughed some.
Nazzareno checked the time on his watch.
“Are we late?” I held the rose a little tighter, and felt the thorn pierce my skin. A droplet of blood blossomed, as red as the petals.
“No. Early.” Nazzareno took my hand and put my finger to his mouth to stop the bleeding as we moved further into the building.
We both stopped short when we saw Aristide standing with two women. I recognized Belaflore from her pictures with Lothario and from the event in Venice. A stunning woman stood next to her, and both of their eyes took me in before they hardened.
I yanked my finger from Nazzareno’s mouth, about to put it to my side, but he snatched it and held it close. I could tell the two women had caught him somewhat off guard. Maybe he thought they would be waiting with Lothario.
“Nazzareno,” his mom said, but it was almost a snap. She gave him her cheek and he kissed it before he kissed the other.
Instead of him going to the other woman, she went to him, kissing his cheek.
“Ava,” he said. “This is my mamma, Belaflore, and this is Elettra Buratti. Mamma, Elettra, this is Ava Girardi.”
Belaflore’s eyes took me in from head to toe, like she was judging every piece of me, and once done, found me not to her standards. Rich people by birth can always sniff out people who are trying to look rich. And it had been my experience, they let them know they’d been found out just by the looks on their faces. In Belaflore’s case, it was her pinched expression. Then her eyes widened some.
“I remember you,” Belaflore said. “You were at the event. Part of the press.”
“The press?” Elettra’s face twisted, and she looked up at Nazzareno. “Is this a joke?”
“Yes,” Belaflore answered for him. Her eyes stilled on the blood on my hand before they moved to Nazzareno’s lips. “A joke told through his uncle’s orders.”
Judging by Elettra’s eyes, how fast they calculated Belaflore’s words, she was a wise woman, and by her clothes and just overall demeanor, she had always been wealthy. An heiress of some kind, probably like Grazia Angeli.
I took a step away from Nazzareno, but he put his hand on my back, and smoothly moved me next to him.
“I do not want to be late for the meeting with father. Aristide.” He looked at his brother and then quickly glanced at me, but he said nothing else, even though something passed between them.
“Before the meeting, your father wants to see you and Elettra together.” Belaflore beamed at this. “We need this, son.”
I hoped she was going to follow up with…We need this to make our family better. To bring light to a dark time. To help heal the wounds.And even though I didn’t expect it, it didn’t surprise me when she started with, “It might be a chance to prove to the family—” Her words died in her throat when she looked at me.
She was going to bring up family business but couldn’t. I wasn’t a part of this family. But it gave me a glimpse into this faction of it. Not only had Lothario been ready to battle to the death for his position, and almost had, but I got the feeling his wife had encouraged it.
What kind of woman thinks of business before her husband’s life?
The kind in the Fausti family who are equally as power hungry as the men.
I admired a woman who was just as career motivated as a man, if that’s what she wanted, but I’d always admired the Scarlett Faustis of this world too. She’d never taken a backseat to her husband, but she seemed to maneuver through this world with grace somehow.
I liked the contrast between Scarlett and Brando. She was the lace to his leather.
Belaflore and Lothario together just seemed…ruthless to me, the romance lacking.
Belaflore said something to Aristide in Italian, and he looked at Nazzareno. Nazzareno nodded and whispered in my ear, “Stay close to my brother,” before he started to move with the two women toward wherever Lothario was.
I watched as Elettra took her place next to him, a power couple in this world, and as Belaflore talked nonstop, Elettra wrapped her arm around his. Just before they disappeared out of sight, she turned to me some, and our eyes met.
It was a look, as a woman, I understood right away.
You might be the mistress, but I’mthe wife.
