A cheer roars through the air when Arianna and I finally cut the ribbons and push open the doors to our building with a fully renovated bakery and complete apartments above. I laugh when I find myself swept into large arms and spun in circles.
“I'm so proud of you,biscottina,” my boyfriend whispers into my ear before finally putting me down. He turns to hug Arianna too, but laughs when he finds her already filming her livestream and bragging to her viewers all about her sister’s bakery and its grand opening, named after our mother.
“And don’t forget to subscribe to my channel guys. Now, let me show you the inside…”
People clap me on the back and offer handshakes, shouting their congratulations. I'm laughing, my voice hoarse from the excitement, as I try to acknowledge everyone. “Welcome, and I hope everyone enjoys the pastries at Sweet Carina’s Bakery Café,” I say, walking into the bakery with Luca’s hand clasped in mine and a smile stretching my lips. My heart aches at the thought that my parents never got to see this and just as the thought registers, a wind blows past my neck and hair, sending goose bumps all over my skin.
“Did you feel that?” I ask, turning to Luca.
“What?”
I bite my lip as I look around, but it’s so sunny and hot today. Not even a draft. The only cold air is coming from the AC, but I could have sworn the wind blew in through the doors. “Never mind,” I whisper, but I feel my heart grow lighter.
“Are you alright?”
I turn to him, smiling. “Never better.”
And isn't that the truth? I turn to face the crowd, who are finding seats. This was a private opening ceremony with only family invited—and what a large family it is. Everyone is here today, from the Rossis to the O’Sheas and the Contis. I laugh when I realize they are all indeed my family now, seeing at least one or two of my cousins are married into these families. They all mingle as my two employees walk around with dessert, beaming at the guests. I was certain that Sally would quit right after her graduation, but she said she liked working at the bakery more than exploring the corporate world. So I didn’t have to hire an outsider to handle the accounting books.
But the second server was the surprise…Gabriella Rossi.
Her request to work part-time for my bakery didn't just surprise me, it shocked the Rossi brothers who loved to baby her. She insisted on moving out of her family's estate and rented out the third floor apartment in my building, claiming it had good lighting for an art studio. Her brothers were against it at first, but with Luca living with me on the second floor, they came around.
I watch her approach us, and I can’t help but mirror the smile on her face. There is something about the Rossis that just makes one forget they are a mafia family, who may or may not have had something to do with Giovanni’s disappearance.
Gabriella looks nothing like a mob princess as she stops in front of us in the little uniform she convinced me the staffneeded. “We have to show the girls my new place,” she tells me, absently passing the tray of muffins to Luca and taking my hand. “They are going to lose their mind over it.”
“I’m sure,” I say, grinning at Luca as Gabriella Rossi pulls me away. We gather the other women and head up to the third floor. The door opens, and gone is the stale and rotten wood scent that plagued this place when we first got ownership of it. Instead, a warm, inviting aroma of paint, wood, and something subtly floral greets us. Gabriella ushers us in, and the floor is no longer the dull industrial grey I remember. It's a rich, polished wood, reflecting the soft glow of the numerous lamps scattered around the space. To the left, a massive floor-to-ceiling window dominates the wall, flooding the space with natural light.
Gabriella has filled up the space with furniture since the last time I was in here. Plush, mismatched sofas and armchairs arranged around a low glass-topped coffee table. There’s one door that leads to her bedroom, but everything else is open. From the open-plan kitchen to her living room and to her art corner.
“Wow.”
Elena’s words describe the feeling this place elicits, and I see more clearly than before that this space was meant to be Gabriella’s. I thought she was crazy when she offered to rent it all to herself, but she had a clear vision that she’s perfectly executed.
“Why don’t you have any of your paintings on the wall?” Emilia, Luca’s twin sister, asks. “You only have one. Did you paint that one?”
At her question, everyone approaches the single painting displayed behind glass. “I didn’t paint it,” Gabriella says. “It was a gift. From Matilde.”
“I know that painting,” Elena says, leaning closer to peer at it. I laugh at that because of course Elena would recognize it immediately. She's the genius in the Marino family and has spent her entire life buried in books. “How did you get that painting, Matilde? It was stolen twenty years ago.”
Everyone turns to me, and I laugh at the shocked expression on their faces. “My father and Uncle Giovanni robbed a museum twenty years ago and somehow, it ended up with my father,” I tell them, turning to the painting. “It’s what Giovanni was after when he came for me. Anyway, I thought Gabriella would appreciate having it more since she’s into art instead of having it rot in some bank box.”
“It’s a full circle moment,” Elena muses. “The painting was stolen by the German forces during World War II and was lost for decades. It surfaced fifty years ago and was donated to a museum rather than returned to the original owners since they couldn't prove ownership after the war ended. I believe the painting is of the owner’s great grandfather, and it’s the only real picture they have of him. But they had no way of proving it since they lost everything during the war, so the museum decided to keep it. How ironic is it that it would get stolen yet again?”
“They stole it, too?” I ask, surprised by a bit of history I didn’t know about.
“We should give it back to the owners,” Gabriella says before quickly turning to me, apology on her face. “I’m sorry, it’s your painting—”
“No, you’re right,” I say, agreeing with her even as I turn to my sister. It’s half her painting, too. “What do you think, Ari?”
“I could make a vlog of it,” she says. “Imagine how fun it would be, travelling to Germany to deliver the painting to the original owners.”
“You’d be smuggling a stolen item,” I remind her with a laugh. “Probably not wise to vlog about it.”
Fiona O'Shea and Elena volunteer to do more research on the painting to see if they can locate the original owners. If the story checks out, then we'll be able to get the painting back to them rather than return it to the museum. I laugh as everyone makes suggestions, picturing all of us locked in a cell together for planning something clearly illegal, but we joke that we could make a girls’ night out of it if we’re caught. Besides, we have very dangerous and powerful men who are stupidly in love with us and would never let that happen.
We bond over the criminal plans and are much closer when we return to the bakery. It's awfully quiet when we walk in, and I turn around to the girls to see if they notice the weird energy. But I only find faces grinning back at me. When I turn back around, I see Luca Conti on a single knee, holding a box with a bright and shiny ring.
