GABRIEL
The next day there was nothing but chaos in the house. People talk about bridezillas, but I bet they have nothing on two Italian princesses who have their father wrapped around their fingers and a bevy of people willing to do their bidding for the right price. I didn’t see my girl all day because the twins wanted her with them.
There were stylists, makeup artists, and who knows what else milling around the house since breakfast and the noise level was off the charts. Her ankle-biter kept me company all day while I kept him out of the way until it was time to get ready for the party. Pop had made his escape with Uncle Marcus on the golf course while I stayed in my room doing what I do best.
I spent most of the morning eavesdropping on her family home and the other half preparing for Sicily. There was still no news of my grandfather, but I’d at least made headway in finding my way into the Ricci circle. My first plan of action has always been to find out who was at the party that night.
That had taken some time, but I’d made easy work of it. All I had to do was backtrack from the present to Ricci’s past, and the people who have always been part of his circle were easy to find. There was just one loose cannon that I couldn’t find until a few days ago, and this one is giving me the most to think about.
She’s the only one whose actions after that night make me wonder if she regretted it since she’d become a nun and joined a convent not long after. From mom’s one and only description of that night, I’m not exactly sure of all that happened, who played a part in her disgrace, or if they all had a hand in standing around watching while a young girl was attacked.
I turned off the computer when I felt my anger rise. Now is not the time; I can put it off for a few more days at least. I turned my thoughts instead to something less stressful for me, at least and more pressing since I need to take care of Gianna’s mess before I can get to my own.
With my head back against the chair, I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through the mutt’s fir as I went over things in my head. Becky still didn’t have a lawyer or, more to the point, each one she tried rejected her, and it will stay that way until Monday, which is when her hell will really start. At least she’s being treated well in jail, and I didn’t go full psycho on her and have the guards torture her dumb ass like she’d done to Gianna. I figure what she has coming would be way worse than anything they can pull.
I did have to change things up a bit because of the birthday trip, but a few days won’t hurt anything. Greta’s being watched over carefully while living in more comfort than she’s ever known, so there’s no fear of her disappearing while we’re away, and the more I think of it, the thought of making Becky sweat for a few days before bringing everything to a head is very appealing.
Since I didn’t need to go through the usual acrobatics to get ready for the party, I checked up on Gianna every once in a while and was glad I did when it was her turn in the chair. One look at the sophisticated hairdo, and I forgot all about keeping my distance. She looked amazing, even more so than the first time they’d done her hair.
“Put her hair up.” She looked too damn grown with her hair like that. The shit looked like it had grown since the last time she had it done, and there was more bounce and shine to the windfall that made me think of things no one else should ever get the chance to think of when it comes to her.
“There’s a lot of it; it might be too much.” The stylist objected until I gave her a look that had her backtracking fast. “It’ll look better with her dress.” Hell, I know about that crap, but it’s as good an excuse as any to get my way.
“I’ll try my best.” She took her time studying Gianna’s hair before rifling through her case and coming out with one very large curling iron.
At least, I think that’s what the metal thing in her hand was. I pulled up a chair and sat with the ankle biter on my lap as we watched his mother get her hair done. The others had already moved on to the next stage, leaving just her and me alone in the room of chaos.
It took more than an hour, but I sat transfixed as she made fat ringlet curls in her hair before attacking it with gem-colored pins. The back of her head looked like an enchanted garden with the many spirals and twirls held together with about a million pins and baubles.
“Let me see.” I walked around to have a look. “Very nice. I’m leaving now. If you people are going to put that gook on her face, go light.” I kissed her before I left for my room to get ready for the evening since she was getting ready with the women of my family.
GIANNA
I saw my dress for the first-time minutes before I put it on and almost refused. “That’s for me?” It looked too elegant, too pretty, and way too grand.
“Yes, Gabriel chose it, don’t you like it?”
“But, the girls.” In my mind, I couldn’t imagine that there was another dress more beautiful, and I’d hate to upstage them.
Mrs. Russo smiled and kissed my cheek, “don’t worry, their dresses are gorgeous as well.” I let myself be talked into putting on the prettiest thing I’ve ever worn. “Gabriel bought this?” I looked through wet eyes at the vision in the mirror. He was right; my hair did look better this way with the princess gown.
I took it all in. The yellow satin and tulle gown that flowed around me, white gloves that came to just above my elbows, and matching satin evening slippers in daffodil yellow. I looked like a whole new person, and my first thought was that I wished my mother could see me.
It’s been hard keeping my mind off things and focusing on tonight, and as horrible as it makes me feel, I’m glad it’s almost over so that I can move forward with what needs to be done. Gabriel hasn’t said anything since the day I put mom’s portrait back in its place, but I know he hasn’t stopped thinking about it either.
Every once in a while, I’d roll over in bed to find him sitting in front of his computer, looking deep in thought. He always shuts it down once he realizes I’m awake and sways my mind with talk of other things when I ask too many questions. It always works until the next day when I remember and question him, but he’s the master of deflection.
He’s the one who’s been taking care of Greta, making sure she remains safe. Every evening I’d see her for a little bit, learning more about my mom and the woman she’d been. The more I learn, the more disgusted with myself I become. Here I am feeling sorry for myself and the way I’d been treated, and my poor mother had lost her whole existence to these monsters.
I won’t rest until Becky spends the rest of her life behind bars, but so far from all the research I’d done, without evidence, there wasn’t much I could do. My hope is that Greta’s testimony would be enough, but even Gabriel doesn’t seem to think so, though he hasn’t come right out and said it in so many words. I know he’s been trying to come up with something all this time; at least that’s my answer for why he’s not touched me in days.
I didn’t notice it right away since I still sleep next to him, we still talk long into the night, and he’s still his same overprotective self. But once you’ve grown used to something, it’s hard not to notice when it’s gone. I’m too embarrassed to bring it up to him, but without the distraction of the party, I’m sure I would’ve been stressing over the sudden change in his behavior. It’s hard to blame him, though, since he’s being so sweet in every other way.