What has happenedwas a respectful way of referring to the death of Rosaria Caffi and my marriage to my wife, my true wife, Aria Amora Bella Fausti.
“It is no secret that our beautiful Italia has been in love with the Caffi family since the start of their time.” My father tapped his desk again. “If Italy does not accept the daughter of my heart, the family will use this against us.”
Us.
This one word was as powerful as any he had spoken. Brando looked at me and nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. This was not the same word the past leaders of our family had used regarding my brother’s marriage to the sister of my heart. Scarlett’s gift had made waves in our family and beyond.
As of that moment, my wife’s gift was not known to anyone but us. Aria’s ability to write books that reflected the truth was not as easy to identify as Scarlett’s ability to feel out a room. The sister of my heart often spoke a man’s truth or lie before a man could speak it himself. This made her valuable to many people for the wrong reasons.
I nodded at my father’s words, acknowledging them.
“You are a patron of the arts, my son,” my father said in Italian. “You will bring your wife out to a scheduled appearance.”
My entire body tightened at his words. The day would come where I would have to introduce her to Italy, and Italy to her, but I also knew this would be a tremulous first meeting, given my history and who I had been married to.
Rosaria’s parents had shown up at our wedding on the island, and it was foretelling. The meeting was tense and notfriendly. Perhaps it would take time for Italy to fall in love with my wife, but I was not sure how this first meeting would go.
All I did know was that my wife would be my wife—she would not change for anyone.
However, if Italy did not fall in love with my wife right away, given the situation with Francesco, the family might move to change kings once it was time for my father to retire his crown and hand over his power to the next in line.
Me.
To keep it, I would have to fight for it. And if my father set forth his wife’s request to halt the drawing of blood between family members, this entire situation might result in a situation worse than the one my older brother and his wife had found themselves in.
Perhaps thefamigliawould perceive this new law as one to stop anyone from challenging me, mainly Francesco and his line.
“Let us hope their love for you extends to your wife,” Donato said.
“Fuck them if it doesn’t.” Brando set his hand close to mine in a unified gesture.
I took his hand and we shook. My brothers all followed his gesture, followed by the other men in the room, except for my father.
He nodded at me instead. “As with my wife, it will take time, but the world will follow in your steps—if not, you were born to rule. A respected king is just as powerful as a loved king.”
In that moment, the bricks of truth fell onto my shoulders, just as they always had. I was bred to be a king. I spent my entire life walking the same path as the kings before me. However, their paths were much different than mine. The wife they began the walk with was the same wife that ended it with them. My situation was at odds with the past. None of us could predict howthe world’s approval would go, but my father was reminding me of who I was and what I was born for.
Our world would love me or not, but they would respect me and my position.
My father ended the meeting, and as we all filed out of his office, a woman waited in the shadows. When she appeared out of it, her eyes locked with mine. She lifted a silver platter of food and drinks, offering me a refreshment with innuendo laced in her tone.
I knew this woman.
We had had intimate relations a time or two. She was not a woman who kept my attention. She was a warm body who did not keep my bed warm for long. She had turned cold to me, and after, I was as cemented inside of my role as I ever was before.
She batted her lashes at me. “I know which one you would like,SignorFausti,” she almost purred, then she nodded to a sweet fig cake on the tray.
Being this close to a woman who was not mine set my wife in full contrast—no one could come close to my sun. I turned my back on the woman and went to find my wife, the only consistent warmth in my world.
Chapter 24
Cucina Gossip
Aria Amora
It never ceased to amaze me how every kitchen I’d stepped in so far seemed like a room made for a vintage Italian movie set.
Maggie Beautiful’scucina, or as she requested I call it, thecucinathat belonged to thecastello, was a dream.
