Which told me our little love nest had hit the right chord, in terms of what felt like ours in this world. It was a place that sheltered and protected us.
Sighing, I turned the car off and set my hand on the door handle. Dario must have noticed, and he opened my door for me. I smiled and thanked him as Pisolino shot out behind me, ready to explore.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” I muttered after him.
The property was vast, and I was worried he wouldn’t come back. But the island was vast, too, and he always returned to me. It almost seemed like he had a radar on me when he knew I wanted him home.
Scarlett hugged me again, and then, without a word spoken, she pointed to a certain side of the estate. I started that way, Dario following not far behind. He was the brother who spoke the least, and that was saying something, since Rocco and Brando weren’t all that chatty either. Romeo spoke the most, mostly about his hair. Or as all the women instructed me to call it,the hair.
Romeo was going to be after me to followthe hair’sInstagram account soon. He told me he’d remind me once we were in a place that had better reception for such things.
“All the sisters of my heart follow me.” He had shrugged, like it was no big deal, but I could tell it would be a big deal tothe hairif I didn’t.
“Will you follow me back?” I’d asked.
“The hair approves of your hair, so,sì.”
A grin came to my face and Dario matched it, like he could read my mind. The loudest thing about Dario was when he slapped Romeo on the back of the head for doing something out of line. I wondered if Romeo had ever had the balls to slap him back, like normal brothers do. I didn’t think so. The only one who I could see stepping out of line, and not in such a childish way, was Brando. He seemed to march to whatever beat his wife did. Though the woman didn’t march. She almost…floated.
Brando’s independent nature, though, had a lot to do with the information Rocco had confided in me about his mamma. Rocco was “created” to be a solider. To be a pawn for this family. Brando had been created out of love and was never required to claim the family name, if he didn’t want to. He had choices Rocco, Dario, and Romeo never had. Rocco bore the brunt of them.
My heart broke for him, and I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes against the sun, trying not to think about all that had hurt Rocco over the years as gravel crunched underneath my heels. Rocco’s heart was mine, and I was determined to make it better. Heal old wounds, then apply scar cream on them, until they were nothing but a slight discoloration on his skin. Only a surface reminder of the times he suffered, times that only made him stronger.
Dario stopped walking. So did I. He nudged his head toward the side of the estate. My eyes narrowed on a beautiful balconymade from stone and iron. It was Romeo and Juliette-esque. The fair Juliette leaning against it, her hands caressing the stone, pining for her handsome Romeo. Romeo standing underneath the balcony, so in love with her that he would defy the entire world to be with her.
Nothing about the story this balcony conjured up seemed to fit Rocco and Rosaria. But the balcony must have been attached to the master suite, and that was where she must have gone to sing—to long to be free, as she’d said. The view seemed to lead into a magical forest.
That was perfect for a songbird. She always had an audience.
“I proposed to Abree once,” Dario whispered.
Turning toward him, I blinked. I had almost forgotten he was there. For as big as these men were, they barely made any noise—barely breathed heavy, even when they exerted themselves.
“Rocco told me,” I whispered back, pushing my hair back over my shoulder. It was windy out. I’d secured the sides, but the back was on its own.
He nodded. “Many eons ago, it seems. I knew the moment she did not feel the ring was right that we were not right. If the ring I offered her did not carry enough weight, how would I in her life? I am not my brother, the next leader of ourfamiglia. I am just a spare.” He waved a hand, like this was neither here nor there.With the arrival of Brando’s children, he wasn’t even a spare any longer. “I dodged a bullet. Myfratellododged its twin for many years, though I do believe in the end, she had nicked him. You stopped the bleeding and healed him.” He sighed. “Still, I do not understand how he is not so tired as to fall in a grave and sleep forever.”
I didn’t deny or confirm this. The only one who could was Rocco himself, but I knew. Dario was only speaking the truth. There were times Rocco’s tiredness felt like it was weighingmedown, and it had nothing to do with the physical. I’d point to mybody and say, “I just need a day, Rocco, to recoup,” or “I need a couple of days—we can stay inside and eat all the food we have. We’ll only leave when we need more.”
Sometimes we’d return to the thermal springs on the magical island and just float in the water. But my heart knew his was weary. He’d never been allowed the time to relax, or just…heal. He was created to be a machine in the Faustifamiglia, and he was treated as such.
My face turned forward a second before Rocco appeared on the balcony. He held the letter Rosaria had left him in his hands, but it had changed. He must have taken the time to fold the paper into the shape of a bird with wings outstretched. He stared out at the woods, and on an especially strong gust, he let the paper go free.
It caught air and, gliding like an airplane, went straight for the trees. Pisolino appeared out of nowhere, his eyes watching it intently, like he was stalking, about to hunt it down. But then, he seemed to scent the air and turned his head toward me. I started to walk away, toward the car, and by the time I reached it, both of my descendants of lions were following behind me.
What Rocco had whispered to me in the witch’s tower the night before came to me on the wind, echoing in the chambers of my heart:
I know how strong you are, my love. I know you can leash a beast and make him walk behind you without even a tug, if you so wish…
“I wish it,” I whispered, allowing the wind to take it and give it to the sky like a prayer. “I wish it for the rest of my days.”
Amen.
Maranello was the place I was supposedly conceived, and even though it was extremely romantic, given the fact that Rocco had gone to the tower when he was yearning for me, I was glad to have it all behind us—mostly Rosaria having been set free—as we boarded a plane to Tuscany.
I wasn’t sure why we were taking a private plane of this size for a trip that I thought was only two hours, or so, by car. I didn’t question it, though, because this family had a certain way of doing things, and I wasn’t sure what Rocco’s schedule looked like. Even though I had my own thing going, the author gig, until I had a new story to write—I was free too. I told him I’d take over his schedule after I got more familiar with his life.
We’d both decided we not only wanted a marriage, but a true partnership in every sense of the word, even when it came down to work. Of course, his career was his career and mine was mine, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t help him with his schedule, and he couldn’t help me fill in a sentence or two or even help me find a better word when one was needed. We demanded that our essences be absorbed into the other’s fibers,so that we shall be one, not two.
