17. Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
Liria
E ver since our encounter in the shower, Ettore had been treating me more like a wife, and less like a roommate that slept in his bed. He would hold my hand, take me on dates, and publicly show me affection. It was a wild switch that I hadn’t been expecting, but I definitely enjoyed it.
But I had barely had time to think about it. The remaining four families were having a party, and for once, I was invited. When my father was still alive, he had forbidden me from attending. Saying things like “It’s far too dangerous having all five families in one place. I can’t have my heir there.”
I always thought he was lying until I finally got to go to a political event and there was a shooting. Good thing Luciana was there to save me, or I would have met the same fate as my mother.
This party would be at the Coscia’s estate. Now that my family name was defunct, their mansion was the grandest out of all the four families, perched upon a cliff with vast gardens rolling down to the sea below. As our car approached the estate, my heart pounded in my chest like a wild drum. Ettore squeezed my hand, his warm touch reassuring.
I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror one last time. Dressed in a navy silk gown, my hair done up and decorated with pearls, I could hardly recognize myself.
Ettore looked at me with such tenderness that it made my heart flutter. “You look beautiful,” he said, making my cheeks flush a warm shade of rose.
We stepped out of the car and gave the valet our keys. The grand mansion loomed before us, bathed in the golden glow of hundreds of twinkling lights. A string quartet played a lovely waltz by the main entrance and elegantly dressed guests milled around, chattering animatedly. Ettore led me towards the grand entrance, our steps in sync, his hand warm against my back.
Once inside, we were ushered into a ballroom adorned with gold leaf and marble. The chandeliers hung low, casting a warm and inviting light on the guests already milling about. Ettore guided me through, introducing me to various members of the other three families and business associates. Their welcoming smiles barely concealed their sharp scrutiny, as they laid eyes upon “Leone’s daughter” for the first time. However, none would dare mention a thing.
Almost no one. It wasn’t long until Tomaso Coscia himself found his way to Ettore and I.
“Mr. and Mrs. Moretti ,” he said, putting far too much emphasis on our last name.
“Tomaso,” Ettore responded, his voice even. “Thank you for inviting us. It is a beautiful party.”
“Of course. I couldn’t wait to meet your wife.” He turned to look at me. “Leone hid you away for years.”
“He did. However, I am no longer bound by my father’s rules.” I was surprised how confident I spoke as the words left my mouth.
Tomaso’s eyes flickered at my bold statement. “Indeed, it’s a shame we hadn’t had the pleasure sooner,” he replied, his voice as smooth as well-aged wine. His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before turning back to Ettore. “Do enjoy the evening.”
As Tomaso sauntered away, Ettore let out a quiet sigh of relief. He knew, as did I, that our interaction with Tomaso was only the first of many tests we would face that night. However, he offered me an encouraging smile. “You handled yourself remarkably well.”
“I wasn’t expecting to,” I admitted, looking away from him sheepishly. “Let’s see if I can keep it up the rest of the night.”
As I introduced myself to others, underneath the glamour and pleasantries, I could sense the undercurrent of tension. Every conversation held a double meaning, every gesture pointed to an unseen struggle for dominance. The Coscias, Morettis, Salvaggios, and Tomasinos - all of them were playing a game of stealth and tactic where appearances mattered more than reality.
It was an unseen battlefield, the weapons being words and subtle gestures. As Ettore and I navigated through it, I could see him in a completely new light. He wasn’t just Ettore, my husband, but Ettore Moretti - a cunning strategist with a charismatic charm that could disarm anyone. His calm demeanor and persuasive speech made it clear that he was as much a part of this dangerous game as any of them.
When he introduced me to some of the older members of the other families, they looked at me with curiosity and surprise. They most likely hadn’t expected Leone’s daughter to show such charm in the presence of other people. There had been rumors I was a mute, because I wasn’t able to talk to the few people I did meet.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” I said to Ettore as we broke away from a group of people.
“Ok,” he responded. “Text me if you need anything.”
On the way towards the bathroom, I bumped into a server. Fortunately, he had just finished passing out his last champagne flute, so there wasn’t a commotion with glass falling to the floor. I had been doing so well with socializing - I felt like an idiot for running into him.
“I’m sorry!” I said, apologizing profusely. I was so flustered I was waving my arms around as I spoke and repeating my apologies over and over.
“No problems, miss,” he said. The server started walking away, but as he passed me, he whispered, “Make sure to read it.”
Read it? As I stood there confused, I felt something crumpled and rough in my hand. Slowly unfolding it, I realized it was a piece of paper. The edges were creased and worn from being shoved into a pocket or bag. Suddenly, it all made sense - the stranger had purposely run into me to pass off this message.
Sneaking a quick glance to make sure no one was looking, I unrolled the paper.
There is a traitor in the midst.
Startled, I quickly crumpled the paper and shoved it into my pocket. My heart pounded against my chest like a mad drummer, and it took all my effort not to glance wildly around the room. Was the traitor watching me right now? Was the server who’d passed me the note a friend or foe?
One thing was for sure: I had to tell Ettore. Spinning away from the bathroom and towards Ettore, I walked as quickly as I could without looking odd.
As I weaved through clusters of people, an icy dread clenched my heart. Who could it be? The possibilities were endless in this sea of deception. Each face I passed, each laugh that echoed around me, felt eerily suspicious now. Could it be Tomaso, whose prodding words from earlier now sounded more sinister?
I finally reached Ettore, who was in the midst of a conversation with the Salvaggio patriarch. Excusing himself, he gently pulled me aside. His eyebrows furrowed at my pale face. “What’s wrong?”
I shifted the note into his hand, not saying anything. Ettore had a better poker face than I did; he looked unfazed as he read it. Despite his lack of reaction, however, I could tell he was concerned.
“Where did you get this?” he asked quietly, already slipping the note into his own pocket.
“From a server,” I said, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation. “He bumped into me and passed it along.”
His eyes flickered to the swarm of servers bustling about before settling back on me. “Did you recognize him? Could you pick him out again?”
“I was too embarrassed from running into him. I didn’t even realize he handed me something until he was walking away. Probably?”
A subtle grimace passed over Ettore’s face but vanished as quickly as it had come. He glanced around us again, his gaze assessing every detail as if he were looking at the room for the first time.
“Alright,” he said finally, his tone steady. “Don’t panic. Whoever it is, they wouldn’t be insane enough to shoot up a party with all four mafia families.”
“But who could it be…?”
“You don’t have to worry about that right now,” he responded. “Just focus on socializing with everybody.”
“Socializing...” I echoed doubtfully.
Biting my lower lip, my eyes darted around nervously. The laughter and the chatter in the room seemed eerily menacing now. Every gesture, every smile, now held a potential threat. But I nodded at Ettore’s words, biting back the tsunami of questions threatening to spill out.
As I turned to retreat back into the crowd, Ettore’s hand curled around mine. “We’ll get through this,” he reassured me softly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my knuckles. Underneath the crystal chandeliers and soothing murmur of conversations, there was something intimate about that single touch. It was as if we were alone in the room, amidst the sea of gowns, tuxedos, and polished shoes.
Ettore didn’t let go of my hand as we rejoined the crowd together. His presence beside me felt like a comforting beacon amidst the turbulent sea of uncertainty. His grip on my hand tightened slightly, subtly anchoring me to him in the chaos. I felt his eyes on me, a silent assurance that he would protect me no matter what.
We joined a group where conversations swirled around tales of business, family anecdotes, and quips about the latest political scandals. Every laugh was louder, every glance more suspicious.
Ettore seemed to be unfazed by it all, carrying himself with the ease of a Don in this game of deception. However, the information hung over my head for the rest of the night like a dark cloud. How would this affect my relationship with Ettore, the man who’d been my rock in this treacherous mafia world?
As I gave another faceless person a fake smile, I tried not to think about it.