Chapter 21
The Walled City amongst a City
Aria Amora
Ermanno’s eyes widened as we entered Luca’s walled city in Lucca. He had never been. Neither had I. My eyes were as wide as his. Juliette had been right. Luca owned his own city within a city.
The guards didn’t even hesitate when Rocco drove the bulletproof Range Rover through the open gates. We had full access to a city that was its own neighborhood with streets. I was pretty sure the property had its own stores. Its own economy, even.
Wow, was all I could say, in my head of course.
After Ermanno took it all in, he sat back in his seat, looking straight ahead.
His face had grown more serious the more time he spent with the soldiers who were sworn to protect the next king of Italy.
I also thought the next king of Italy was influencing him too.
He looked at Rocco with awe and wonder. He respected him.
He almost mirrored everything Rocco did.
What was concerning me was that Rocco had grown even more…
protective over me since Aunt Lola’s funeral, or what she had called her “farewell from heaven” celebration.
Uncle Tito attended, but we all knew what was left of Uncle Tito was his shell.
He barely ate, all he wanted to do was sleep, and when he couldn’t sleep, he prayed for relief. He prayed to be with his wife again.
A couple of times he wrote on paper that he wanted Rocco and me, or Scarlett and Brando, to take him for a walk on our property in Piemonte. He always wanted us to bring him back to the spot where Aunt Lola had taken her last breath.
A couple of times, Scarlett and I worried about Luca and what he would do…Uncle Tito was desperate to be with his wife; Luca felt for his cause…and I wasn’t sure what Luca would do to help him attain it.
Because Luca would request the same.
It was Marciano who wouldn’t leave Uncle Tito’s side. Every morning, he brought what he called “puzzles” to his great-great uncle, and when Uncle Tito refused to do the crosswords, Marciano would do them, filling the eerie silence with…words and their meanings.
The situation between Marciano and Uncle Tito was worrisome. If Uncle Tito asked Luca to…help him be reunited with his wife, I had no doubt Marciano wouldn’t stand in the way. And since no one allowed or stopped anything without Luca’s consent…
I sighed, and Rocco brought my hand to his mouth, breathing me in. Ermanno watched him, his face as hard as stone.
My concern for him…he had lost his mamma at a young age, and I could see how the shock of Aunt Lola’s death had probably brought back painful memories for him.
It had for me. I shared that with him, but it was Rocco he was studying.
And if Rocco was paranoid about losing me…
I noticed Ermanno was more obsessed with my protection.
I wasn’t sure if having Ermanno around was a good idea anymore. A lot was going on in the center of the family, and I refused to allow Ermanno to be caught in any crossfire, especially with Francesco and his ridiculous line ready to start a war.
My husband and his family? Eager to win it.
Rocco was no slouch on his exercise regimen, but as of late, his brothers, his sons, his nephews…it reminded me of when Rocky was going after Ivan Drago and was using natural methods to train.
If my husband became any stronger, he’d be able to pull the sword out of a rock.
Maybe he was past that point.
Sighing, this time longer and harder, I pulled down the vanity mirror and checked my reflection.
We were invited to dine with Luca and Maggie Beautiful that evening before our stay in their walled city.
I’d done my hair in big waves, pulling it up on the sides, almost giving myself a Bardot look.
I dressed in a form-fitting, off the shoulder, dark olive-green maxi dress, and paired it with gold heels.
Thanks to my husband, I was decked out in fine gold jewelry that caught the light and almost blinded me.
I lifted my designer sunglasses, fixing any makeup that had smeared, before I applied more dusty rose lipstick.
I’d been torn between the color I’d chosen and berry mauve.
Maybe later in the season I’d opt for something a little darker.
Both colors complimented my hazel eyes and made them pop.
My perfume drifted in the air around me like an autumn melody. It was redolent of sweet, ripened figs, and all I could think was...my husband knew all that worked with my body.
When I closed the mirror, my husband stopped the SUV, and both he and Ermanno were staring at me. Rocco’s mouth wasn’t parted like Ermanno’s was, but it was mighty close.
I grinned a little. Rocco was always hypnotized by my female rituals, as he called them. A time when he said I smelled so divine, if he could not taste me, he would die of hunger.
The thought made me think of Aunt Lola and how she’d said the men of her family were drammatico, and my grin turned into a smile. My heart broke while I did it, but I would honor her by keeping her memory alive.
Rocco’s eyes softened, and he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Your smile is like honey to my heart. Your laughter like wine to my soul.”
He pulled away, and I was too dazed to move.
He dug inside of my purse and grabbed the same lipstick I’d used, then reapplied it to my lips.
I blinked at him, realizing he had mauve colored lips.
Using my fingers, I wiped them clean and then fixed his hair.
He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped my fingers.
“Is all love this way?”
Rocco and I both looked at Ermanno.
“If you are lucky,” my husband said, stepping out of the car, fixing his suit.
The men around him hustled to do whatever it was they thought he expected of them.
All the lower men, especially, respected my husband while also fearing him.
I wasn’t sure if they respected him because they feared him, or if they just respected him because of his history and status in the family.
The fear came when they thought of the things he’d done, and what he could do to them.
I hadn’t been around long enough to truly see the differences between the way Luca ran the family and the way my husband would. One thing I did notice. My husband seemed to be more social than his father.
Rocco stopped to speak to some men. While he did, I took a moment to ask Ermanno if he was missing his father. Until Rocco pointed it out, I didn’t realize Giovanni, the soldier who escorted Thandie out of the rented house in the Quarter, and to my birthday bash on the bayou, was Ermanno’s father.
He shrugged. “My father travels quite a bit for his position within the family.”
“Who takes care of you?”
He sat up straighter. “I am a man, Signora Fausti. However, my father hired a woman to cook and keep me fed when my Nonna cannot be around to do it.”
“My Nonna took care of me too.” I smiled. “Nonnas are the best.” I shared with him my history, how my parents had split up.
“Your mamma did not cook for you?”
“No, I lived with my Nonna. Neither parent…wanted me.”
He was truly disturbed by this. He set a hand over his heart without conscious thought that he had. “Why would anyone not want you? You are…you are…” He was motioning to me with his hand, too caught up in his shock and anger to put together his thoughts.
“I’m me,” I said. “And for selfish reasons, both of my parents didn’t have time for me.”
“Your father should be killed and your mamma whooped!”
“The first one has been taken care of,” I said. “My father is gone. And the second…it’s been taken care of, in a way, too.”
“Signora Fausti,” he said, his voice tender, “mi dispiace.”
“It’s okay, Ermanno. I’ve come to terms with it. I was so sorry to hear about your mamma.”
He set his hand over his heart again. “My mamma was a good mamma.”
“I’m so happy to hear it,” I whispered. Then I cleared my throat. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Sì,” he answered without a breath of hesitation.
“I’m sure you know there’s, er, trouble brewing with Francesco’s line. I know you can take care of yourself, but I’d love to honor your mamma by keeping you out of trouble.”
“I am a Fausti.” All traces of the romantic Shorty had disappeared, and he was ramrod straight.
“I know, but…at least for now.”
“I will do my best, Signora—”
“Ari.” He continued to call me Signora Fausti, and whenever I had the chance to, I continued to give him permission to call me by my first name.
“—Ari,” he whispered, “to keep myself safe in times of trouble.”
“All right.” I nodded, fixing him with a stern, but stern with love, stare. “I’m counting on it.”
Rocco opened my door and, giving me his hand, helped me out of the SUV. “You take my breath away when you do this,” he said, and I could hear the pride in his voice.
“What? Step out of the car?”
“Sì, and capture the entire world around you with a move.”
A rush of warmth spread from my heart to my chest to my cheeks. I wrapped my arm around his, and I’d never felt prouder to be who I was in that moment.
The woman who was blessed enough to walk next to this man and call him husband.
Ermanno mumbled something under his breath. Maybe damn? His dialect was one I couldn’t always understand.
Exactly my sentiments, though, when my eyes truly fixed on the towering form of the…castello in front of us. I was sure this place had to be listed in history books somewhere. I placed a hand on Rocco’s arm to stop him from walking.
“Do you love this…house?” Calling it a house was a humongous understatement, but if this had been Rocco’s home, it should have felt that way.
I often thought about the differences between Brando and Rocco.
Brando must’ve locked eyes on this place long after he could’ve.
From my understanding, Brando and Maggie Beautiful wanted nothing to do with this family, even refusing to take money from them, until Scarlett accidentally danced on their toes while in Italy.