Chapter 41 A Villa Divided
A Villa Divided
Aria Amora
Iwasn’t sure where I was, exactly, but I knew I was somewhere in Sicily. Marciano had told me that much.
Maybe an extensive piece of property hidden in the hills that was a secret to the rest of the world. Marciano was high on the security ladder of the family (along with Mac, Saverio, and Evelina)—well, our faction of it—and he seemed to be the one who had hidden us here.
Marciano was pleased with Uncle Tito’s willingness to speak, and therefore, he was pleased with me.
He called me Auntie and told me I’d warmed Uncle Tito into speaking again, although he understood the reason why Uncle Tito had shut the world out.
His uncle had lost the great love of his life.
I really liked Marciano. He was a massive man with an even bigger heart.
And even though he was a Fausti through and through, he was a bit more relaxed than most of them, a bit more genial.
He reminded me of Romeo, but…he belonged to Brando.
A tepid early spring breeze rustled the soft green grass and the hundreds of ancient olive trees on the property, their leaves rustling, making a soft melody together.
I might not have known where we were, exactly, but I knew we were on land that lent itself to olive trees, and in turn, offered their bearings for olive oil making.
I could smell the peppery scent in the air, like I’d just taken a whiff out of a glass bottle of it, and the smell lingered in my nose.
Marciano described the oil as carrying, “the sea's salt on the air.”
In the not too far distance, I could smell the salty scent of the sea.
Marciano had showed me and the women around the property, which Scarlett was already familiar with, and he made all of us familiar with an escape route that led directly to the sea, which he said would have boats waiting to take us to safety if we had another land attack.
Every so often, he would even make us practice and have test runs. Thandie helped him.
Sighing, I took a seat on a wooden bench not far from the swaying trees. The breeze this close to the sea was almost nonstop. It was so peaceful.
The wind howled in an eerie tone, and the trees shimmered, the susurration of their leaves repetitive, therapeutic music to my ears. I closed my eyes, attempting to forget where I was, what had happened that day, to find my center.
The baby in my womb.
Exhaling out a long breath, I kept my eyes closed.
I allowed myself to relive the moments for only a moment.
The crazed woman with the gun.
Uncle Tito being kicked.
The gun fire that took Massimo and me down.
He’d been shot numerous times in my honor.
My nose wasn’t broken, but severely bruised, which had caused the nosebleed.
Three of my ribs were broken, and my shoulder…
it had taken the brunt of a rock when another rock, Rocco’s son, had thrown himself over me.
The rock had a sharp point, and it impaled my shoulder, breaking skin and hitting bone.
The hospital experience, along with my stay.
My husband’s face.
His eyes.
Those warm sea-green eyes frozen in that time.
My husband becoming something I didn’t recognize—the man wasn’t even close to the surface of his skin. It was the bloodthirsty animal out for revenge.
My husband and dozens of other husbands leaving all the women, including my sister-in-laws, Mia, and Mari, at the olive grove to hide us away from the enemies who wanted to slaughter us and our men.
We were at war.
And as the old saying goes, all’s fair in love and war.
The Russians, in a move that repaid ours in New Orleans, set up explosives around our property in Piemonte while individual gun battles were taking place.
We were also at war with Francesco’s faction of the family.
This no longer only involved the King Lion himself to make decisions, but the entire family, since a faction was questioning the choices of Luca Leone Fausti.
We had our own Russian support, and they were warring with the Russians who were dealing the dangerous drugs no one wanted to mess with, except for those hooked on it.
Francesco and his faction had the Russians who wanted us dead on their side.
The family was split, as split as the villa in the distance, where all the woman rested their heads at night.
Maggie Beautiful’s wish was causing the split.
Some wanted to keep the sword fighting as part of the family tradition.
Some did not.
Maggie Beautiful’s wish was also splitting the famiglia.
Francesco’s faction was adamant that the tradition be the decision of each faction.
Even though Marzio had ceased calling to arms for a challenge, it was up to each faction how they would proceed with the tradition if a challenge was between their factions’ family members.
However, if one faction chose not to call to arms, but another did, it was decided by the king which way was honorable enough to take.
Plainly speaking, if the king felt romantic that day, it was probably swords.
If not, a fast race between cars to decide who would be victorious.
Marzio’s ruling of his own faction, at the time, had saved Rocco and Brando from clashing swords, which was Grazia’s intention all along.
Her grandsons wouldn’t be allowed to draw blood only because of an issue one found bothersome.
Francesco’s faction of the family felt the impending rule came at a time when Luca’s son, my husband, was about to take the throne, which was suspicious timing if none of the other men could challenge him if the law was suspended.
Our faction was shooting back with: your faction not only involved Russians who were the worst kind of dope slingers, but…
Francesco was the man who had fathered Ita’s baby.
All the pieces clicked when Rocco told me Francesco had admitted to speaking to Ita.
She had been on our property with a gun, her parents too, ready to do damage…
and since all our soldiers would have recognized her, and would have been looking for her if they had spotted her, we knew…
Francesco and his faction had smuggled her inside our lines.
Then there was the talk amongst the Novak family about the current king’s line ending, and a new king taking his place—a new line.
Francesco’s line.
The issue with me and my great-aunt was only a reason to set up the meeting.
To argue something that had no bearing on what went on in present times.
Avelina didn’t love Francesco, she loved Ricco, and Francesco and Ricco’s parents, my husband’s great-grandparents, got involved and took out the central cause of the problem: my great-aunt.
When hearts break in the Fausti family, they never break down the center. They are carved out as a prize.
Once Nel Cielo was secured after the battle, though, Ita’s body wasn’t to be found.
Someone had left her parents, but not her to rot in our soil.
There was no way of proving Francesco was the father, then.
His faction didn’t want anyone to know. If word got out that he had gotten her pregnant, convinced her to make Rocco pay for breaking her heart to begin with…
the famiglia would side with our faction.
As it was, some of the family had sided with Francesco’s line by default because they believed the rumor that Rocco had Rosaria killed to marry me without issue.
Rocco had told me this supposed issue had been hashed out in the meeting before the battle had begun, but the truth hadn’t fully made it into a family that thrived on it. That had built a legacy on it.
I believed this was because the truth was only useful when it came to gain.
Meaning, if the truth helped the family who craved to rule, it was the most important thing a man could have.
However, if the truth went against what they wanted, a shot at wearing the crown…
walls were built around it, and blinders were put on.
The worst part of this entire scene?
My husband had left me behind.
My eyes scanned the property.
Scarlett’s husband had left her behind.
Next to her, Mia.
Her husband had left her behind with their three small children, another one on the way.
Juliette walked the property.
Her husband had left her behind.
Carmen stared out the kitchen window, because it was her turn to prepare meals.
Her husband had left her behind.
Mari was walking toward Scarlett, her arms crossed.
Same for her. She’d been left behind.
Evelina was safe somewhere else, where, from her spot, she was able to aid the men in battle.
Countless of other women, Thandie included, were on the property, waiting…waiting for their men to return. Our heartbeats were replaced by the sound of hands ticking on a clock.
A long sigh full of turmoil rose from my chest and slid out of my mouth when my eyes landed on Ermanno and Uncle Tito. Uncle Tito stayed close to Ermanno. Maybe because Ermanno wasn’t talking as much as he used to. The battle had taken him from a Shorty to…a man. It hurt my heart to see it.
Ermanno had gotten to Azzurra in time. She had been knocked unconscious by woodland debris that had flown when an explosion had gone off.
As Ermanno picked her up to carry her to safety, another explosion rocked him on his feet, and he said all he remembered was running to the SUVs waiting to tear away from Nel Cielo and to safety.
Even though the safe zone was close to our property, it was only known to a few people who Rocco felt he could trust. The land wasn’t even under Rocco’s name.