“Bengal,” Nonno said to me, scratching the furry baby behind the ears. “That’s the kind of cat it is.”
Nonno said something to the man in Italian. Dismissing him, it seemed like, since he disappeared right after. The man’s name seemed to be Donato. But I wasn’t paying much attention. I already had my heels off and was playing in the grass with the baby cat. It was so playful, swatting at my fingers and jumping in my lap and purring.
The sound of laughter pulled my attention away and up. Nonno. He seemed so delighted, and was kicking his shoes off, removing his jacket, and getting down in the grass with us. He toyed with the cat’s nose, and it swatted at him. I laughed so hard, I had to stop myself from flopping backward in the grass.
“What’s—” I lifted the kitten and checked “—hisname?”
“That is for you to decide, Estella,” he said, running his hand in the grass, teasing the kitten to play.
The kitten’s eyes narrowed, a concentrated look coming to his face, all too serious for a baby fur ball, before he pounced. He wasn’t fast enough yet. Nonno’s hand was gone while the kitten was in mid-strike.
“He’s a fierce hunter.” I smiled. “But also…passionate. I think he’ll be loyal. How about Figaro?” I laughed, remembering the movie the name came from.
“Figaro. This suits him.”
I picked Figaro up and cradled him to my chest. “Because I love it for him.” He purred against me, but after a minute, he wanted to get down and explore. Nonno and I watched as he crept in the tall grass, looking for things to hunt. I only hopedhe’d love killing rats. Something about the idea made me feel warm and sad at the same time.
I ran my hand through the grass, and not meeting Nonno’s eyes, said, “Can I ask you something?”
He didn’t answer for so long, I turned and met his stare. He nodded.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “If you knew bad news was waiting for you, would you want it right away, or would you want to wait to hear it?”
He ran his hand over the grass, but his eyes were in the distance. He was thinking. Then finally he said, “When I was a younger man, I would have demanded it right away. But now that I am older, and love beyond measure, the truth seems to keep without spoiling.”
Maybe I was wrong, but I had a feeling he was talking about Magpie having cancer. Matteo told me his grandfather didn’t take the news well. Like, he was preparing to retire as the king of the Fausti Family because of it. At first, I was like, yeah, I can see someone doing that. But, after meeting him, I realized how much of a sacrifice that was. He didn’t seem like a man to give in easily when he was passionate about something. I really didn’t know him, but in a way, it felt like we’d both introduced ourselves that day.
I wouldn’t have claimed I was afraid of him, but I surely wouldn’t want to cross him either.
The reason I’d asked him the question, though, was because the kitten, Figaro, brought back memories of my mom. She’d gotten me a cat a year or so before she left me in Paris. He mostly lived outside, not really interested in living indoors, but…we both loved him and spoiled him when he let us. I just wondered what someone like Luca would do in my position. I was still not sure what I wanted to do. Maybe it was okay to go on a little longer without knowing the truth, even if deep down, I knewsomething wasn’t right. If my mom was still alive, I knew Matteo would have brought me to her, or her to me.
Luca stood from the grass like he was twenty instead of the age he was. He held his hand down and I took it. He basically lifted me up, as smooth as if gravity was reversed, before slipping his expensive shoes back on. “Your mother-in-law is particular about being on time for dinner. I respect this about her and do not want to disrespect her table.”
He picked my heels up, and after I took a seat on the iron bench, he said, “Allow me,” as he fastened them back on my feet.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He said something in Italian, something that probably meantmy pleasure, or close to it, and after I scooped up Figaro, I took Nonno’s arm, and he led me back to the villa.
Chapter 19
Stella
The number of people waiting for us at the villa,Dare Alla Luce,was overwhelming, at first. They didn’t crowd me in or anything, but Matteo seemed to bring them in groups to introduce me. First were his great-uncles, Osvaldo (married to Fiammetta, or as Osvaldo told me to call her, Aunt Metta), then Niccolo (who I was told beforehand was an eternal bachelor). Then came his uncles, his father’s brothers: Rocco (married to Rosaria), Dario (married to Carmen), and Romeo (married to Juliette). Matteo’s brothers, Mariano, Marciano, and Maestro, who were single except for Maestro. Matteo had told me his marriage had been arranged to a royal in Russia.
I remembered Ava telling me that order was a big thing for this family. That proved to be true. Everyone seemed to be introduced in order of births. I’d met Mia first, which was in line because she was older than Matteo.
Matteo’s two brothers, Mariano and Marciano, both nodded when I’d said we’d been introduced before, that night in Sub Rosa. Then I hugged them all, and maybe it was my imagination, but they all seemed to melt into the embrace. And I couldn’t help but think of that word again.
Divine.
They looked and smelled it.
Saverio’s parents, Mac and Mari came next. Then a slew of cousins, all male, followed by Nazzareno and Ava. She was responsible for my deep dive, as she’d called it, into this family. I was introduced to their son, Augusto Aurelius, a pilot like Nazzareno. I met a woman named Gigi, who was related to Matteo from Grazia Angeli’s side, which was Matteo’s great-grandmother, the famous Italian actress.
Gigi was gorgeous enough to follow in Grazia’s footsteps. She was married to Harrison from America, and they had two children, Ciccio and Noemi. Ciccio was a famous baseball player in America, in New York, and Noemi was a film director, screen writer, and producer. She was just getting noticed for her short films, which all took place in Italy.
Even though Ciccio seemed to resemble his mom more, with a twist from his dad, it was hard to tell who Noemi looked like. She had darkish blonde hair and more blunt features than her mom. She was stunning in her own way, and when I asked why she wasn’t an actress, too, she laughed and said the camera didn’t love her face as much as it should.
