She deserves better than this.
And so do I.
“Sylvia called me after New Year’s Eve and asked me to take some time off in March,” she says, her gaze pointed down. “I didn’t think much of it. Throughout the years, she’d asked me to take time off around the family’s schedule. I thought it was one of those instances, but she quickly got to the point and told me they’d visit their property in Montalcino and wanted to see me.”
She lifts her gaze.
“My stomach dropped when I noticed the strange urgency in her voice. Plus, what she’d said made no sense to me. She wanted me to take some time off so I could go there and do what exactly? If she wanted me to work, she should’ve said so.”
She sighs.
“Anyway, I had a hunch that it had nothing to do with me. Although some of the worst scenarios popped into my head. An older friend of mine, who knew your family back in the day, when I started working for the Gallos, had warned me that things might get bad for me in the end. I didn’t want to believe her, but I surely did that day after talking to your grandmother. Yet, something in her voice suggested that her focus wasn’t on me. The fact that she wanted me there had nothing to do with me being there. She just wanted me to be away from here. Then I realized that she wanted me to lie to you, so obviously, the entire story was about you. The details were sparse. Other than the fact that I needed to arrive at their place on a certain date, she offered nothing to me.”
I sag back in my seat, while she continues.
“I arrived at their estate on a Monday. I was led to my room and invited to have dinner with your grandmother. It felt weird to me not to work and go through those steps as if I were a guest. Eventually, we met in the dining room. She was alone, yet she told me that Flavia and Giorgio and a few other people were about to join us soon.”
“Was Callum there too?” I ask directly, the question burning my lips.
“No.”
“Did he come later?”
“No. We never met while I was there.”
I quietly exhale.
“What happened next?”
“She started our conversation by saying that she was worried about you. I said everything was fine with you, because it was. You were no longer grieving and couldn’t be happier.”
Her eyes slide to the side as we both know that this isn’t exactly the truth.
I had never grieved, and being happy in that optimistic, exhilarating way had never been my forte.
“Did she buy it?” I ask dryly.
She nods.
“She had no choice. There was nothing else I could tell her.”
She pauses for a moment.
“Then she said she needed me to keep an eye on you. Big changes were afoot, she said, and as things stood, you’d be thecentral piece in that story.”
“What the hell was she talking about?”
“I asked her the same thing, but not in those words. She eventually shared with me that they were looking for a suitable husband for you.”
“Asuitablehusband,” I murmur sarcastically. “Is that how it’s called? Did they find anyonesuitablefor me?”
She says nothing, so I continue.
“So far, I’m not impressed with their selection. She mentioned a few names to me. The Sandoval brothers, as you already know. And then, Andrea Mancuso,” I go on, unsure whether Nona has an updated list of all the criminally insane mobsters taking up residence in my grandmother's vile imagination.
“There are more,” Nona says quietly, suggesting that I might need to updatemylist.
My eyebrows lift slowly.
