Personally, I thought it was because of how he loved his wife.
That was something to always remember. That was something to write down in books and make timeless. That was what made a man legendary. In my opinion, anyway. My momwould have agreed. The thought made me feel proud. She would have loved Matteo. He would have loved her too.
There was no doubt he was going to be legendary as well. I believed that in my bones.
Not only would he rule this family like Nonno, or maybe even better, he would love me for always—love me like Brando loved Scarlett. I could tell Brando’s behavior toward his wife, and love in general, moved Matteo, and that inspired him to want to be like his father.
Matteo had said our love inspired him too.
Would always inspire him.
The thought sent a rush of warmth through my veins. The same feeling I’d had when I’d asked Scarlett if I was strong enough to survive this life, this family, and I knew without a doubt I could—for him. I’d survived my non-existent life with Régine because of the thought of my mom.
Brando checked his rearview mirror, and for a second, I thought he was grinning at me. My breath caught, and I squeezed the bag on my lap. We were heading to Brando and Scarlett’s villa, and I was in the back seat, thankful to be sitting. If not, my knees might have turned to water and I might have fallen on the floor, making a major fool of myself. Brando was quiet—that intensity again—and I probably spoke to him least out of all the family. If I ever wanted to talk to one of the men, I’d have picked Romeo. One small remark about hair and he was on it. The thought made me grin, and my eyes met Brando’s in the mirror. The grin was still on his face.
My heart sped up even more, and I hoped he couldn’t hear the acceleration of my pulse. It felt like I was starting to pant for air.
“You were like that too,” Scarlett said, squeezing Brando’s hand. He’d taken it as soon as we were inside the car, holding it close. Just like Matteo did with me.
“Still like that, baby. You don’t walk away from me without taking my heart with you.” He said something in Italian to her, something that sounded so romantic, and she blinked her eyes at him, like she was a young girl again. He still dazed her.
I loved it and couldn’t wait for always with Matteo.
“This time, though.” He lifted her hand, breathed her in, and then kissed her pulse. “I’m not the one having to watch as someone takes you away from me.”
“We’re not taking her from him, Brando. She’s going to spend a little time away from him before their wedding.”
“From experience, the reason why doesn’t matter, and he won’t know what to fucking do with himself.” He looked in the mirror again, catching sight of Matteo watching as the car pulled from the driveway. “Look at him. Ants in his fucking pants.” He grinned again, and it lit up not only his face, but his wife’s face. “Even this small time will remind him of what it feels like to be apart from his heart.”
Matteo smiled, but it seemed like Brando rarely did, even though I was sure the entire world could tell his wife and family fulfilled him to a degree most people would probably never experience. Like he wanted for nothing.
After Matteo disappeared in Brando’s dust, it was my turn to keep looking back for him. I knew it was only hours that we were going to be apart, and the next time I’d see him, we’d be at our rehearsal dinner, or whatever it was called, and then I’d be his wife and he’d be my husband. But leaving him felt like it was turning my heart into a piece of gooey mozzarella, stretching to the point of almost breaking.
If Scarlett and Brando noticed, neither of them said anything. They probably understood our plight and had empathy. It wasn’t long before Brando was speeding up their long driveway, cypress trees like ours showing us the way. When he parked, Magpie was waiting outside, a group of womenbehind her, a hat on her head with a feathered plume dancing in the wind. She was dressed like a showgirl from a different time.
Brando groaned and Scarlett laughed.
“You know she can’t help herself!” She laughed even harder. “She wanted to do this for Stella so bad.”
“There’s a fucking scary thought. Maggie Beautiful planning a woman party.”
I wasn’t sure why, but Brando Fausti using the words “woman party” seemed to tickle me out of nowhere, and I exploded with laughter. Scarlett wasn’t far behind, probably understanding. He looked between us and shook his head. But I noticed when he glanced at me in the mirror again, he gave me a quick grin, which made my entire body warm. I knew it was foolish to wish, but I wished for the day he’d hug me. It would feel like acceptance—a true welcome into the family.
I’d never had a father, a true father figure, and he seemed like such a good one. Different from Nonno, but the same in a way. They both made me feel warm, just like Matteo did, but in their respective roles in my life.
Brando opened the door for Scarlett, then me, and then he disappeared.
Magpie wrapped her arm around my neck and beamed at me. “Ready to party, Stella Stellar?”
A collective “woooo!” went up behind me, and someone set the same kind of hat that Magpie wore on my head. It was heavy, and when a strong breeze passed, I had to rush to set a hand on it.
The party went on nonstop from the moment I’d stepped onto the driveway, and I even puked in the middle of the night because I’d had too much candy.
“It’s usually the drink that does that to people, not sugar.” Magpie gave me a pat on the head. “Maybe it’s because you’re so sweet already!”
Scarlett gave her a look, like—yeah, right. Not about me being sweet, but about her candy concoctions. I’d never be able to look at martini-shaped candies in the same way ever again.
Yak.
