Chapter 34
Keep Your Head Up
Aria Amora
The sun seemed to slip into the sky and send a golden glow over Winkelmatten the next morning, almost like a blanket of oozing honey over the snowcapped mountains and streets. I rubbed my legs against the softness of the sheets, cuddled up closer to my husband, and breathed him in.
That morning felt different.
We might’ve had our struggles ahead, but the most pressing one had relieved itself.
Ita Novak.
I didn’t care who the father of her baby was—I knew it wasn’t my husband. I also wondered how she felt so confident lying about it. Did she not take into consideration a paternity test? Maybe she thought her word would be good enough?
I almost wondered if it was a Fausti who’d gotten her pregnant. She was around enough to have been around them. Maybe she thought since the Faustis all had something Fausti about their appearances, if the baby looked anything like them, she’d be believed.
I wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. We were going to see Luca after breakfast. Massimo would meet us there. Then we were going to the slopes for a bit before dinner in town.
I felt free.
I went to lean in to kiss my husband, who had his eyes closed. In a move that made me whoop!, he turned me on my back and started kissing me. Big smooches all over my face that made me laugh.
He was grinning too.
We both stopped for a moment, breathing heavy, even though we’d only been messing around, and it was like his glistening green eyes were speaking to mine—we are free from one beast.
“Free,” I whispered, and after he nodded, we both went for each other.
We made it to Luca’s chalet just in time. Maggie Beautiful hugged us both, complimenting me on my outfit, and I complimented her on hers—they were similar, and we both started laughing.
Luca kissed me on each cheek. He thanked me again for a delicious dinner, then said, “Perhaps soon you will make minestrone again. It brought back fond memories of my mamma’s kitchen.”
My cheeks warmed, and the pressure from my husband’s hand on my lower back increased. “It would be an honor,” I said. “I’ll also try my hand at making pappardelle al cinghiale the next time we’re together.” Since Massimo had given me the boar steaks.
At the honor part of my response, Luca made a noise in his throat. Maggie Beautiful invited us deeper into the chalet, and after, Luca directed us to the office. Luca spoke to both of us before Massimo was welcomed into the office.
My father-in-law ordered him to recount the night. Massimo did, just as he’d done for us. Luca stared into the distance for some time, then he nodded. “This situation shall be dealt with.” He looked at me. “You vowed to cook a dinner for the damned. Pomodori on old pewter plates, I recall.”
I sat up straighter. “I did, and if she wasn’t with child, I would’ve seen it through. But I still don’t trust her not to bother us again. She’s dangerous. I can feel it. And with the baby…” I touched my stomach “…I refuse to take the chance.”
Luca stared at me. I stared back, my head tilted slightly, though my eyes were not challenging his—I was only curious about his stare on me.
“My mamma used to tell me when she would donate new clothes or food to those in need, ‘Luca, do you see how we are giving right now?’ And I would say, ‘Yes, mamma, I do.’ She would say, ‘You give, and one day you may receive. The donation goes into the pot, and someday, if you are ever in need, it will come back to you.’”
“I understand what Nonna Grazia was saying. If I forgive for Ita’s child—” I touched my stomach “—I’ll be blessed in return.”
My father-in-law was pleased with how I had addressed his mamma. I could tell by the set of his face. Though…I could tell by his eyes he was at war as he stared at me. Something told me he was battling his feelings, and I wasn’t sure why.
Luca nodded, and it was a bit stiffer, which didn’t reflect his next words.
“You are a righteous woman, and fair with your punishment for what has been done to you. You are a woman worthy of the title of Queen in this family. Ita Novak will be taken care of accordingly.” My father-in-law’s eyes cut to my husband, and even though it seemed like only a glance, I knew it meant more.
With one look, Luca had silently spoken. And after my father-in-law nodded, the meeting was over.
Even though I sensed he wasn’t back to normal (and normal for Luca Fausti was Fausti normal), there was something a tad bit lighter about him. Maybe because Maggie Beautiful was just dealing with a thyroid issue that could be controlled by medication.
For her age, in the grand scheme of things, it was manageable.
The mood grew even lighter and more joyous as we walked toward the chalet’s cucina. All my brothers- and sisters-in-law, along with their children and grandchildren, if they had them, were waiting to start the day.
Maggie Beautiful seemed lit from the inside at all the conversation and laughter. I felt the same way. She and I had both come from smaller families. To have this many people to love…it always felt like a built-in party, if everyone was respectful and followed the rules.
It was always a bit looser, too, during vacations (I’d learned this on Aria Island) and when Luca was spending time with his Wildflower. I noticed his sons and their families were more relaxed. It seemed like Scarlett and Brando were the cause of that.
Rocco squeezed my neck when he noticed Massimo was sticking around. All the usual greetings were made when we entered the room, and then the entire group of us walked to the ski resort where all the men, only a few of the women, were going skiing.
After, we had plans to have an early dinner, which was rare for Italians, at a restaurant that was slightly higher than our chalet—Scarlett mentioned it was at 2000 metres altitude, which meant it was almost sky high, and the oxygen would be thinner, just as with our chalet.
Rocco had been worried about that before we even arrived. He contacted a local doctor in Switzerland, who was friends with the Fausti family, but more importantly, Uncle Tito. The family was a group of doctors who came from a long lineage of doctors, scientists, and research professionals.
Rocco was close with the head doctor, but health wise, the head doctor wasn’t doing well.
He’d always had some kind of blood disease, and he wasn’t feeling his best. His daughter was a doctor and making a name for herself in the field.
When Uncle Tito approached her about becoming the head doctor of the Fausti family, she had politely declined, claiming she was being called to help people in need.
Rocco’s eyebrows had pinched at this. “All sick are in need,” he had said to me. “She just does not care for our family.”
“For the best, then,” I’d said.
Who wanted a doctor who couldn’t stand the principles of the family?
But she had agreed to put up shop in Zermatt, replacing the other female doctor, while we were staying, since the situation with Uncle Tito called to her heart, she’d said. She loved Aunt Lola and would do this for him at this time of his life.
The doctor knew how much the family meant to Uncle Tito, and for the most part, she respected Rocco. Since I was his wife, and he was asking, she’d said yes. I hadn’t met her yet. She was keeping to herself unless ultimately needed.
All this to say, though, that Rocco had spoken to her about the elevation and me being in the early stages of pregnancy.
Since I was healthy, she said as long as I took my time, didn’t overdo it, and didn’t go above a certain altitude, or was above altitude for an extended period of time, meaning, we lived in our chalet the entire pregnancy, my body would work to provide the baby the oxygen he or she needed.
Still, Rocco was being overprotective and insisted she come along with us on the trip, since this would be my first time being above the chalet’s altitude.
Dr. Alessandra Ponte was the doctor’s name, and I put her at around Massimo’s age, or even a tad bit older.
She reminded me of honey for some reason, maybe because it has healing properties.
Long, golden blonde hair, tan skin, and a gorgeous set of dark blue eyes that shimmered like sapphires when the wintry sun hit them.
Her features were sharp, and I was almost willing to bet, without the warmth about her, she would’ve been as cold as the wind hitting me like a frozen wall.
It was so apparent, as she led her small team of two female nurses, that she didn’t truly want to be around the family.
She was cordial, of course, but extremely quiet.
Silent until spoken to, or when she had to speak to her team.
She could speak four languages that I knew of.
Italian, French, German, and Romansh. Her family was from Ticino, on the border of Italy and Switzerland, and they lived in Como.
Her sharp eyes would cut to some of the men, at times, before she covered them in mirrored sunglasses, and I could’ve sworn in her head, she was rolling her eyes. Maybe because she was stunning and all the unattached men had noticed.
Rocco took Ermanno by the shoulders and kept him from falling over a rock when she’d bent over to pick up the cellphone she’d dropped.
His pointed nose raised in the air like a hound when another one of the cold, punching winds hit us and swirled her sweet scent in the air.
His nostrils flared, and he set a hand to his heart, shaking his head in a dramatic way.
Scarlett and I looked at each other and laughed.
She went on about the restaurant we were going to dine at after a day on the slopes, and after we reached the Matterhorn, Rocco set his hands on my shoulders and pointed to an area for us to take a break.
He made me stop every few minutes, and he watched my breathing as though he was counting my breaths.
Maybe he was. But he did it to make sure I wasn’t overdoing it.