“Watch it, girl.”
I reach over and tickle her ribs. She squeals with laughter. “Did you… like, do special science experiments? Join the robotics team in high school?” I tickle her harder but she doesn’t stop. “Were you in a band, Tavi?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Maybe all of those things.
God, it feels so good to relax, to really let loose with her.
We’re touching down, and she breathes a bit more freely. The sun sets outside our windows. Now’s the time to ask her, to get to the dual purpose of my questions.
I clear my throat and sober. “Next question.”
“Yeah?”
“What’d you see in the warehouse?”
She looks out the window and doesn’t hesitate. She likely knows there’s no point in hiding anything from me.
“There was a broken pair of sunglasses in the corner of the room. They looked like ones that belonged to someone I once knew, but they couldn’t have been. He’s been dead for months.”
“Could’ve been there for months, no?”
“No,” she says hollowly. “He was with me during my escape. They belonged to my bodyguard, Piero, but he hasn’t been to America in years.”
Piero.
The man I ordered killed.
I drop the subject.
CHAPTER 10
Elise
The next week passes in a sort of blur, and I have to admit, this is the best time I’ve ever had since I came to America as the Rossi family prisoner.
Technically, I still am a prisoner. He still has that godforsaken thing implanted in my arm like a psychopath. But I know now he really isn’t one. Santo, on the other hand… now he may be. But I have very little to do with him if I can help it.
At least that’s the plan.
The day before the wedding, I’m getting my final fitting for my dress. Something smells delicious in the downstairs kitchen, but I’m too nervous to eat. The door bursts open and Marialena comes in, carrying a few grocery bags.
“Tonight, we party, loves!”
“Party,” as if we won’t have half a dozen bodyguards on us at any given time. Tavi’s given his consent for all of us to go into the North End, though. We’ll start at Orlando’s restaurant.
“Ta-da!” the seamstress says proudly. She spins me around so I can get a look in the full-length mirror.
“Oh. Oh, wow,” I breathe.
Marialena whistles, coming up beside me. “Oh, honey,” she says with a wicked gleam in her eye. “My brother is gonna lose. His. Mind.”
Tavi was able to score the dress I really wanted. He paid a small fortune to have it overnighted from Italy, and the seamstress got started the first day it arrived. I think he liked that I had a pretty crazy request, though. It was one thing he could do, one thing he could control in all this.
Thankfully, the alterations were minor, but it needed the hem brought up and a good tuck. The brocade fabric has a shimmery, pearly finish, and the entire upper part of the dress is made of small flower petals handsewn into a strapless bodice. Fitted tulle gathers at the waist then flows like a waterfall in a glittering skirt that makes me feel like a princess.
The back looks almost bare, but it’s a sheer fabric with a swirl of rhinestone-studded pearls, as whimsical as wispy clouds on a summer day.
“It’s… it’s perfect,” I breathe. I spin and twirl and glance over my shoulder, and every damn angle’s as magical as the first.
We’re in the guest room on the second floor with the door closed but we can hear the men chatting and laughing in the reception room below. Tavi’s down there, likely toasting his wedding before his bachelor party tonight.
I wish he could see me. I feel suddenly nervous and agitated, but I don’t know why. I crave his stern, immovable presence. If there’s anything Tavi’s got going for him it’s that he’s solid and dependable.
I hear heavy steps outside the door, but they’re too slow to be Tavi’s. The door opens without a knock, and Nonna comes in bearing a tray of golden butter cookies piled high, the edges fringed with delicate pink sprinkles.
“Mangia, Elise!” She goes on to scold me in Italian, telling me I’ll keel over at the alter if I don’t put some food in my belly.
I shake my head, still anxious. “Save me some, please,” I tell her. Her biscotti are the best I’ve ever had, and my mouth waters to taste some. “I can’t eat them, not now.” Not when I’m wearing this dress.
“Here,” Marialena says, twisting the top off a protein shake. She plops a straw in it. “Sip this. Don’t need you withering away.”
Nonna rolls her eyes and mutters something about skinny girls and thick thighs.
“What is she talking about?” I ask Marialena.
“I have no damn clue,” she responds. “I think she thinks you need fattening up. Thinks you’re sick or something.”
“I’ve actually gained six pounds since moving into The Castle!” I inform her. The food’s just too damn good. Maybe I need Tavi to train me with his gym regimen.
Maybe.
“She lives to feed people, relax. It’s just her way. Geez, it’s like you’ve never been around an old-school Italian nonna.”
“I haven’t,” I remind her. I had cooks and nannies and tutors and bodyguards, but never the presence of real family.
“Ah, right. Lucky you.” Mario, dressed in designer jeans and a tight-fitting tee, walks in next. When he sees me in my wedding dress, he covers his eyes with his hand.
“Jesus, is this bad luck?” he asks me.
“Not unless we’re the ones getting married, so you’re good. Can’t say the groom won’t beat the shit out of you, though, for seeing me before he does.” He very well might.
“Good point. You girls should warn a guy.” Mario turns right around and heads for the exit. “Marialena, Santo said you and Rosa don’t have the tracking on your phones activated and neither of you leave here until you do.”
The door shuts with a bang. Marialena rolls her eyes. “And no overbearing, bossy brothers either?”
“Nope.” Nothing. Just Angelina and Piero.
The memory of Piero fades with each passing day. I both hate and am grateful that it does.
On the one hand, I wrestle with guilt over marrying another man. I wanted to be Piero’s for the rest of my life. On the other hand, I’m glad to have a new chance of life with Tavi. I know that if Piero couldn’t have me, he’d at least want me to settle down with a man that would take care of me.
Or is that just what I tell myself?
I feel as if I’ve shared so much with Tavi, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell him the whole truth about Piero. He knows that I escaped, and he knows that Piero aided me in that, but he can’t know everything. If he did… As always, I shove the thoughts away.
“Girls, before we go to dinner, can we head to the new store?” Tavi’s put me in touch with Santo, who’s had me ordering new inventory for the retail store they plan to open after the wedding. My email tells me the handbags I ordered arrived today, and I’d love to look at the stock with my own eyes. We’ll be in the same general area, so it makes sense to stop by.