Chapter 12
Catalina
I’d survived the comments about being a woman and managed to walk without grimacing. The most difficult part of the morning was saying goodbye to my family. Standing near the cars on the driveway, the summer breeze teased my hair, blowing renegade strands from my ponytail around my face. My long sundress fluffed in the wind.
Watching my family leave was heartbreaking. I’d lived all of my twenty-four years under my father’s roof and protection. I couldn’t remember a day without Em or a time after Camila was born that I didn’t see her and talk to her. There were tears in my eyes as we embraced.
“The plane is waiting,” Uncle Nicolas said as Mireya, Camila, Sofia, and I stood hugging.
As we were saying our goodbyes, my brother appeared. It was the first time I’d seen him since the reception. His dark hair was combed back, but his eyes looked tired. Either he’d had too much to drink at the reception, or he hadn’t had much sleep. Stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, he looked me up and down. “You did good.” Em lowered his voice. “He’s still standing.” He tilted his head toward Dario who was talking to our father. “You must not have stabbed him hard enough.”
“I didn’t stab him.”
“Keep the knife and holster. You can’t trust the Italians to keep you safe.”
“I have to trust him, Em. He’s my husband.”
“Don’t be na?ve, Cat. There are plenty of women in our world and in his who aren’t safe with their husbands. Just because Papá isn’t like that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
I was well aware of that. Was Nick one of them? Was Em? Were either one of them men who hurt women? I wanted to ask about what Dario told me but feared if I did, he’d tell Nick, and I’d put the woman at Wanderland in danger. Instead, I forced a smile. “Thank you for caring.”
Em wrapped me in a hug. “If he hurts you, stab him in the groin,” he whispered. “He’ll bleed out before help can arrive.”
When I pulled away, a smile filled my brother’s face. And then like the passing of a shadow, his joy faded and darkness took over as Dario appeared at my side.
Em stood taller and puffed his chest. “Take care of her.” Thankfully, he left his threat unsaid.
“Catalina is now under the protection of the famiglia. You don’t need to worry about her.”
Em stiffened his neck and shoulders but didn’t reply.
“I love you,” I said with a wave as Papá, Mama, Camila, and Miguel entered one car, Uncle Gerardo, Em, and Nick got in another, and the third cartel car filled with Mireya, Sofia, Aunt Maria, and Uncle Nicolas.
Dario wrapped his arm around my waist beside the large fountain on the paved driveway as the three cars drove away.
“They’re gone.” The joyful announcement came from behind us.
Dario and I turned to see Dante practically bounding down the front steps.
My new brother-in-law patted my shoulder. “Sorry, Catalina. I’m just relieved no one was killed.”
“Dante,” Dario scolded.
“Oh, come on. I thought all bets were off when Herrera showed up and then that stunt by Aléjandro.”
Dario squeezed my hand. “Why don’t you go make sure the maids have your things packed? We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Is this your way of getting me to leave so you two can badmouth my family?”
“She’s a smart one,” Dante said. He turned my direction. “You’re our family now. We only talk trash about one another when we’re drunk. And today, I’m pitifully sober.”
“Armando is inside,” Dario said. “He can carry your things to the car.”
That was his second hint for me to leave.
By the time I made my way upstairs to the bedroom we’d shared last night, the bed was remade, the sheets hopefully burnt, and all my things from the other bedroom were on and near the bed. I hurried to my suitcase, worried that someone had found Em’s knife. Opening the top, I unzipped a back lining pocket and breathed a sigh of relief that the knife was where I’d left it.
“Mrs. Luciano.”
I turned, seeing Armando in the doorway. “Catalina, please.”
Armando tilted his head. “Clear that with the boss and I’ll oblige.”
“I guess that means I’m not the boss.”
Armando shook his head with a knowing grin. “You’re putting me in a bad place. Mr. Luciano likes certain formalities.”
“If I’m going to be spending my days with you, I think I have some say. Let’s agree to Catalina when Dario isn’t present.”
“I can do that, ma’am.”
Ma’am.
“Oh my God, stop. I’ve aged twenty years in this conversation.”
Armando looked toward the bed. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to take your things down to the car.”
There weren’t that many things present. I’d only spent two nights here. Then I remembered my wedding gown. “Do you know what they did with my wedding gown?”
“Mrs. Luciano…the other one,” he clarified, “had it.”
I zipped my suitcase and double-checked the bathroom for any random belongings. “You can take care of these,” I told Armando. “I’m going to try to find Dario’s mother.”
“She’s on the sunporch.”
“Sunporch.”
Where is that again?
Down to the first floor, I wound my way to the back of the house. The workers must have labored all night long. As I passed room to room and looked out to the lawn and gardens, there were no clues that a large wedding had taken place here yesterday. Maybe the Lucianos wanted the cartel out of their house as much as Uncle Nick wouldn’t welcome the famiglia into his.
I came to double doors opened at the end of the living room.
A summer breeze fluffed my dress as I stepped onto what must be the sunporch.
“Catalina?” Arianna said as I entered. She was sitting with a cup of coffee and writing in what appeared to be a journal.
“I’m sorry to bother you.”
She closed the journal. “No bother. I’m glad to have a minute to talk to you before you go.”
“I was wondering about my wedding dress.”
“Yes.” She sat taller. “The dress.”
“I’m not sure why, but Dario didn’t cut the dress last night. He did cut my corset.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to add that. “I wondered where the dress is now.”
“It’s gone, dear.”
My knees buckled. “Gone?”
She patted the table. “Have a seat.”
Doing as she bid, I sat on the chair across from her at the round table. “Why would you get rid of my dress?”
“I didn’t get rid of it. It’s been sent to the seamstress. You see, even though Dario, for whatever reason, chose to not follow tradition, tradition must be followed. Francesca and I took the liberty of cutting the front of the dress’s bodice before bringing it downstairs. What you just told me about Dario not cutting it? Don’t repeat that. It’s better if the famiglia sees Dario as a competent leader who honors our ways.”
She cut my dress.
Arianna and Francesca—Giorgia’s mother.
I knitted my eyebrows. “How is showing kindness to his new bride the sign of incompetence?”
“The famiglia is different from what you’re used to. That’s why we rarely allow anyone to marry from outside. As you know, yours was a special circumstance. There was a time when I imagined Dario and Dante both marrying good Catholic Italian women. Even with his power, some families won’t forget that he…” She forced a smile. “Never mind. Thank the Lord you’re at least Catholic, and what I saw this morning…” She nodded with a strained smile. “I believe you’ll be good for Dario. God knows he needs a good woman at his side, finally.”
“Finally?”
“He should have married a decade ago.” Arianna lifted her coffee mug to her lips. “That’s the past. He sowed his oats, and now it’s time for his future: a wife, children, and soon, capo.”
Sowed his oats.
Fucked everything that walks.
It was the same thing.
I met her stare, unwilling to take that bait. “Dario and I haven’t discussed children.”
Her lips curled. “That’s all right. Discussing doesn’t get me a grandson. What you did last night does.”
I sat taller, ready to tell her that I was aware of how children were made.
“My dress,” I said, bringing up the subject one more time. “Once it is repaired…?”
“I’ll send it to Kansas City. Word will spread fast that it’s with the seamstress.”
As I stood, I made an effort not to grimace or wince. “I suppose I need to gather the last of my things. Dario wants to leave soon.”
Arianna reached for my hand. “Not all of us are cut out to take care of all of our husband’s needs. Respectable women understand the limits. There’s no shame in letting him do the less desirable things with a mistress or one of the whores from the clubs. All that matters is that you have his babies.”
I didn’t have words.
Dario had pledged faithfulness to me before God and our guests and again when we were alone. That didn’t mesh with me granting him free rein with mistresses and whores.
Instead of replying, I retrieved my hand and walked back into the living room, my stomach twisting with the idea of telling Dario to sleep with another woman. If that was the way of the famiglia—or respectable women—the way was about to change.
“There you are,” Dario said as I entered the foyer. “Armando has everything from upstairs in the car.” He reached for my arm and his forehead furrowed. “Are you all right?”
Not really.
I plastered a smile. “I was just talking with your mother.”
“And you’re ready to go?”
“Yes.”
Dario grinned. “Then let’s go.”
He led me outside. The large black SUV I anticipated. It was the Lamborghini Countach that I didn’t. Dario opened the passenger door of the small sports car. “I like to drive when I can.”
I stared down at the automobile worth more than the median value of most of the country’s homes. “And nothing says incognito like a Countach.” Leaning down, I looked at the futuristic interior. “No back seat. Where is Armando going to sit?”
“He can drive the SUV.”
“No bodyguard?” I asked.
“I don’t need a bodyguard, and you don’t need one when you’re with me.” His dark orbs shone with his enthusiasm. “And I like to drive.”
I folded myself into the low seat. After Dario closed the door, I took a better look at the state-of-the-art dashboard and felt a bit of his excitement. Once Dario was seated behind the wheel, I asked, “May I drive this sometime?”
“You drive?”
“I have my license. As I said, my father is considered progressive.”
Dario fastened his seatbelt and touched the screen on the console. The engine was barely audible. “It’s a hybrid.”
Shaking my head, I leaned against the tall leather seat. “KC’s future capo is concerned about the environment. No one will believe that.”
“We’ll keep it our secret.”
Silence enveloped the interior as beautiful scenic views passed by the windows. My thoughts fluctuated between my family and my questions about my new life as we left the majestic mountains behind for the more concrete world of Kansas City. There was no way to describe the ache I felt when I thought of Mama and Camila. I missed both of them dreadfully. They weren’t the only ones in my thoughts. Em was there too.
He hadn’t actually thought I would hurt Dario, had he?
I couldn’t fathom the consequences if Arianna entered our bedroom and found her eldest son slain. That wasn’t the blood she was expecting.
About thirty minutes into the trip, Dario reached over and laid his hand on my thigh. I looked down at his long fingers, remembering the way they felt caressing my skin, teasing my nipples, and stroking inside me. It seemed odd that he could be so attentive at one moment and aloof at others. I turned, taking in his profile, wondering where his thoughts were.
“Did my mother upset you?” he asked.
I inhaled. “She cut my gown.”
Dario turned to me; his brow furrowed. “What the fuck?”
“She said if the gown wasn’t sent to the seamstress for repair, word would get out that you can’t follow traditions and would therefore be unfit to lead the famiglia.”
“Did she say anything else about my unfitness?”
“She started to say something and stopped.” I shook my head. “It was about sown oats and thank God I’m at least Catholic.”
His fingers gripped the skirt of my dress as his head shook from side to side. “I see the world differently than others do. The world is changing. That means our parts of the world too. My mother doesn’t want to see what’s right in front of her, but that doesn’t make the changes disappear. I have plans for modifications, but I know enough to take it slow. The next few months will be a test period for this alliance, and then there’s my father’s announcement to pass the torch.”
“Did Arianna want the alliance?”
Dario looked at me and back to the road. “She approves of you.” He grinned. “Remember—Catholic.”
“She didn’t approve of an alliance with the cartel, did she? She basically said it when we spoke. She wanted a nice Catholic Italian woman for you.”
“Girl. A child. If my mother had her way, I’d wed a child. My mother wants to be involved in my life, and she believes that me marrying a child would be her chance to weasel her way in by gushing over a girl who couldn’t see through her bullshit.” He squeezed my leg. “By your reaction to your talk, you aren’t susceptible to that bullshit.” He grinned. “Fire. The sheets today shut her up. I told you she would be happy.”
I shook my head. “That’s just disgusting.” I lifted my chin. “Wouldn’t it have been easier for you to do as she wanted. I’m sure there’s a young Italian lady that would have provided her with the same show she had this morning.”
“Easy isn’t in my playbook. The alliance with Roríguez is tenuous, but if we can pull it off, we will have more product and that means more money.”
“If it doesn’t work, the rest of your family will hate me.”
Dario shook his head. “You’ve done your part. There’s no reason to hate you.”
“I didn’t stab you.”
He scoffed. “That’s a start. Did you bring the knife?”
“It’s in my suitcase.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want one of my mother’s maids to find it.” He turned my direction. “Did Emiliano teach you how to use it?”
“He said to stab you in the groin.”
Dario pursed his lips. “Good advice. I’d bleed out fast if you hit the femoral artery.”
“That’s what he said. Em gave me lessons,” I admitted. “But I wouldn’t mind having more. If you could teach me? You had three knives on you last night. I suspect you know how to use them. I mean, you’re nicknamed The Blade.”
“I know how to use them. I know how to use them well. Contrary to what my mother believes, slicing a man’s throat is a better use of a blade than cutting a beautiful wedding gown.”
We were now in city traffic. The scenic green views of the Ozarks were replaced by tall buildings and busy sidewalks. It was my first time in the city, and I was surprised how big it actually was. It wasn’t like Los Angeles, but it wasn’t a small town.
Laying my hand over his, still on my leg, I remembered how Dario had worked to take away my fear last night. “Thank you.” I turned to his profile. “Mia was the one who told me about the tradition. Giorgia told me about her husband cutting her dress on their wedding night.”
He smirked. “I’m glad no one tried to scare you.”
“It’s a good thing. Otherwise, I might have been terrified.”
Dario pulled the car into a parking garage and took an immediate left. A large gate opened, and we proceeded down a lit tunnel until Dario parked the car nearby other impressive vehicles. He got out and came around, opening my door.
“We’re home.”
As I stood, the SUV driven by Armando entered, parking a few spaces down.
I placed my hand in Dario’s and followed toward a stairwell. At the entry, Dario placed a card near a sensor. The light turned green, and the door slid open, revealing not a stairwell, but an elevator.
“Our home is on the top floor. This elevator only stops at the top two floors. Dante lives a floor below. No stopping for other floors.”
“What about Armando?” I asked.
“He’ll bring our things up to our apartment.”
Ourapartment.
The penthouse.
As the elevator moved swiftly toward the top of the building, Dario leaned against a shiny mirrored wall and crossed his ankles. “I probably should have mentioned Contessa before now.”
“Contessa? Who is Contessa?”