Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Eliza
Dinner is an uncomfortable affair. Neither Adriano nor I seem to know what to say to each other. We don't mention this morning or the way he rushed out of the kitchen as if Interpol was beating down the door.
He pours the wine, a crisp Pinot Grigio, and we eat our cacio e pepe in silence.
When Rosa comes in to clear our plates and bring us the main course of pollo alla cacciatore I thank her profusely and ask where she sourced the chicken, just to make conversation.
She tells me it, and all the produce she buys, comes from the market in the village.
I say I'll check it out sometime and then realize Adriano would have to open the door to my cell before that can happen.
When she leaves the room I struggle for something to say to Adriano. The obvious thing to talk about would be the gala last night, specifically his cousin Olivia who I liked very much despite her probing nature. I wasn't quite sure if she was concerned for me or trying to get dirt on her cousin.
Talking about the gala would open the door to Adriano asking me about the man who was staring at me, the one I claimed not to know. Unfortunately he was all too familiar to me.
Marton Vida is the Hungarian crime boss my brother became indebted to, the man who used me to get to Gabriele. Knowing he’s here in Rome weighs heavily on me. I don’t like concealing his presence but I’m scared hell will be unleashed if I reveal it.
Adriano isn't an idiot. He could tell I was lying when I said I didn't know the man who was staring at me.
Seeing Marton Vida at the gala was a shock and I didn't hide my reaction well.
I don't know why I didn't tell Adriano about him there and then. I don't know why I don't tell him now.
It's fear, I guess, that he'll think badly of me. Hah! What a thought. As if his opinion of me could be any lower.
The man collared me and took me out in public. It's not a sign he views me as his equal.
As I think about that band of leather around my neck I can't help raising my fingers to my throat. I let Adriano do all sorts of things to me last night I've never considered doing before. It would be a lie if I said I didn't love every minute of it.
Being fucked on the terrace at the party was the greatest thrill I've experienced in years. I hate to think what that says about me.
"This chicken is delicious," I say in a lame attempt to make conversation.
"It's dry," Adriano says with a sniff.
"What are you talking about? It's smothered in sauce."
"Yes, but I still find it dry."
He's being like this on purpose. I suspect he's feeling as awkward as I am about the shift that happened between us this morning when we moved from raw fucking to making love.
Of course Adriano would never admit that's what it was, or that he feels any kind of way about it. Where emotions are concerned he's a steel trap. Well, apart from anger maybe, I bet he can express that just fine.
"You are such an…" I stop dead as a man walks into the room accompanied by an older woman.
Tall, broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed in a three piece suit this man looks like a banker but the type who'd come and demand loan repayments personally. He's an intriguing mix of sophistication and brutality. Dressed to kill is the phrase that springs to mind.
He has the same dark hair as Adriano but paler skin.
His jaw is more prominent and his nose looks as if it's taken a hit or two.
He carries himself with the self-assurance of someone who has never walked into a situation that intimidated him.
He stares at me with the same blatant appraisal Adriano does and, I note, similar eyes.
"I suspect the young lady was about to call my son an asshole."
My heart pounds against my ribs as the woman who's clearly Adriano's mother walks into the room. I wasn't expecting to meet her and certainly not when I was about to let an insult to her son fly.
Perhaps sixty, Adriano's mother is the picture of elegance.
She's the sort of woman who never leaves the home unless suitably dressed and with her makeup flawless.
Her jewelry is gold and though I'm no expert I'm betting it's expensive.
Despite the lines around her eyes and mouth she's a beautiful woman. Her eyes are dark, her hair gray.
There’s something about the way she holds herself that reminds me of Adriano. It’s a stillness that gives nothing away.
"Mamma," Adriano gets up and crosses the room to greet her. "You should have called."
He kisses her cheeks with more warmth than I've seen him show before.
"I was passing and thought I'd drop in," she says. That cannot be true. Adriano's house is on the road to nowhere and this woman looks as if she has somewhere important to be.
"Of course you were." Adriano turns to the man. "Benito."
They share an embrace. Adriano turns to me.
"Eliza," he says. "This is my mother, Giuliana, and my brother, Benito. Feel free to call him an asshole."
There is no world in which I would ever insult this mountain of a man. I get to my feet and go to shake both of their hands, lying through my teeth about how lovely it is to meet them.
"You must join us for dinner," Adriano says. "Please, sit. I'll tell Rosa."
It's lucky Rosa usually makes enough food to keep the Ninth Legion marching because chicken cacciatore isn't something she can rustle up quickly for two unexpected guests. It takes time to develop the flavors in this dish and I know she spent hours in the kitchen.
I return to my seat while Giuliana sits opposite and Benito takes the chair next to her.
"So, Eliza," he says. "Where did you come from?"
"Here." My voice comes out as a squeak. "Uh, Rome, but I've been away for a while."
"Traveling?"
"Something like that."
He holds my gaze for a moment like he suspects I'm withholding something. Thankfully Adriano and Rosa appear with plates, glasses and other tableware.
"Oh, Rosa, this looks wonderful," Giuliana says. "I always enjoy your cooking."
Rosa smiles and withdraws to leave us to eat.
Benito talks business with Adriano in the careful language these men all use.
Giuliana asks me about my family and I tell her my parents moved to Sardinia while I was abroad.
That leads her to ask about my travels and I impress myself by making three years on the run sound like a romantic exploration of the world.
When I mention I spent time in Dubai, Adriano raises an eyebrow. Ah, it seems that's part of my journey he didn't track. Perhaps I should have stayed there.
"It sounds like you had a wonderful time," Giuliana says. I don't disabuse her of the notion. "I haven't traveled nearly as much as I'd have liked. The boys' father prefers not to leave Italy."
"Speaking of our father," Benito says. "Tell Adriano why we're here."
I can tell from the way Giuliana's face falls that this is going to be a personal matter.
"Perhaps I should leave," I say, already getting to my feet.
"No, sit, please," Giuliana says.
Adriano takes a sip of his wine which I suspect is fortification for whatever family drama's about to unfold.
"Your father is threatening to bring that woman to your Aunt Ava's wedding in October."
Adriano goes deadly still. "What?"
"He wants to take her to a family wedding, Adriano." Her voice is controlled but her fingers tighten around her fork. "To New York where everyone will see."
"What is he thinking?" Adriano demands.
Giuliana looks at the plate of food in front of her and sets down her fork. "He says unless I lose ten pounds he won't be seen in public with me."
"The man's a fucking asshole!" Benito gives a glimpse of the frightening man beneath the suit.
Giuliana pats his hand. "You can't say that about your father."
"Why not? It's true. He treats my mother like shit and now he's being an asshole to you."
His mother? Now I'm confused. Adriano introduced Benito as his brother and there's definite warmth between him and Giuliana.
"Benito is the son of my husband's first mistress," Giuliana explains.
I'm surprised she's being so open about that to me considering we've only just met.
"But I have always had the greatest affection for Benito and his mamma, Helena, is a wonderful woman.
She didn't deserve to get caught up in my feckless husband's web. "
"Wow." This is hard to wrap my head around. "But you and Benito seem so close."
"We are." Giuliana says fondly.
"My father tried to deny responsibility for me when my mother was pregnant," Benito says. "Maurizio wasn't interested in me until I was old enough to be useful to him. It was Giuliana who made sure my mother and I wanted for nothing."
"You're a truly remarkable woman," I can't help saying.
"Nonsense," Giuliana shakes her head. "I did what any woman would do."
Adriano and Benito both scoff at that. "I don't think that's true, Mamma."
She shrugs. "Well, anyway, about the wedding. Helena was a saint but this new mistress of his, she's…" Giuliana throws her hands up in the air as if there isn't a word harsh enough for what this woman is. My mother makes the same gesture when she’s run out of polite things to say.
"I'll speak to him."
"Benito already spoke to him. It didn't work."
"I'll speak to him," Adriano repeats. "You will be coming to the wedding, Mamma. Whether he does or not depends on him."
"But they're his family, Adriano."
"Who was the invitation made out to?" Benito asks.
"Signore and Signora Volante," Giuliana replies.
"There you go, Mamma. They invited you specifically. Not Maurizio plus whatever whore he's fucking."
Giuliana lets out a sob, clearly overwhelmed by the whole thing.
Adriano mutters something undoubtedly unpleasant under his breath and Benito stabs his chicken like he imagines it's his father. My family has had its moments over the years but the Volantes take dysfunction to another level.
"What will you wear to the wedding?" I ask.
Giuliana looks at me, her face brightening a little. "Oh, I found this beautiful gown. It's a deep red with beading at the neckline." She takes a breath. "I'm not sure about it now. I've put on a little weight recently."
I want to ask her where because from what I can see this woman is perfect. Yes, she has curves but they're all in proportion. She's like a nineteen fifties bombshell.
"I'm sure it will look amazing on you," I say. "Red would be a good color on you."
"Do you think so?"
"I know so. What about accessories? Do you have a purse, shoes, jewelry?"
"Not yet." Giuliana smiles. "Perhaps you could help me with those."
"Uh…" How do I answer that? I can't exactly tell her I'd love to help her if Adriano will allow me to leave the house for a day.
"Eliza would be delighted to shop with you, Mamma," Adriano surprises me by saying. "A little closer to the event, yes?"
"Yes, of course. She can pick her dress too." Now this conversation is getting awkward. Giuliana looks between me and Adriano. "Unless you two aren't together."
"We're not." I say at the exact same time as Adriano says. "We are."
I laugh self-consciously.
"This is very new between us, Mamma," Adriano says. "Eliza is a little less certain of the future than I am. Besides, she has a prior commitment on the date of the wedding."
I almost laugh at my captivity being sold as a prior commitment. Clearly Adriano thinks I’m more dedicated to being his prisoner than I actually am because I hadn’t imagined being in this position months from now.
Still, I appreciate him covering for me because worming out of that might have gotten awkward.
Giuliana looks genuinely disappointed that I won’t be attending the wedding. It’s odd since we don't even know each other yet. That said, I can already tell I like her. Perhaps she feels the same about me. I'd like to think she does.
"Well, who knows if the wedding will even take place.” Giuliana says. "Poor Ava has had to move the date so often, what with her children constantly deciding to get married."
"All six of them are settled now," Benito says. "It's Ava's turn."
"She deserves it. She'll make a beautiful bride." Giuliana raises a hand to her chest and sighs dramatically. "Six children and she never lost her figure. You know, Eliza, she doesn't look a day over forty. And her hair? Stunning."
"So is yours," I say, sensing Adriano's mother is about to come down hard on herself again because she thinks she doesn't measure up to his aunt. "You should sweep it back. People need to see your face. You have incredible cheekbones."
Giuliana smiles as a blush tinges her cheeks. Adriano places his hand over mine and squeezes. There's an appreciative gleam in his eye.
Benito, who's watching carefully, clears his throat. "Why don't you ladies get some coffee and find someplace to chat about clothes and shit? I want to talk business with Adriano."
As Giuliana and I both take the not so subtle hint and rise from our chairs, Benito and Adriano both stand. I'm starting to think the mafia runs etiquette classes for their members because they're all so well-mannered. Well, until they're not.
Adriano leans over so only I can hear him. "Be back in your room by midnight, cara."
"Why? Will I turn into a pumpkin if I'm not?"
He brushes his lips against my ear. "Midnight, or else."
There's no need to ask or else what. I have a decent handle on what he considers punishment by now.
"Yes, sir."
Is it my imagination or did he shudder when I said sir. I wouldn't be surprised if the idea of me calling him that turns him on. That's precisely why it won't be happening.
As I follow Giuliana from the room, I glance back over my shoulder. Adriano and Benito are both watching us go. There's no mystery about what the main topic of conversation will be. I'm right there at the top of the list.