Chapter 10
Allie
Matrimonio all’improvviso, o inferno o paradiso. — A sudden marriage [is] either heaven or hell.
At first glance, Mario’s grandfather appeared harmless enough.
Of course, my own grandfather was the same way.
Slightly stooped, deep wrinkles around the corners of his eyes and fainter worry lines grooving his forehead.
Don Manca’s face spoke of a long life. Although, his was much more weathered and less urbane than Mario’s father’s.
This was the man who’d taught Mario about his rural life, and I wanted to sit under a shaded tree with him and talk of nothing but bread and lambs for days.
But I didn’t miss the way he froze when Mario and I emerged downstairs. His sharp gaze took in our closeness, the subtle way I curved my arm under his to provide support, and the silence where there were loud voices only moments before.
Don Valentini was less guarded about his open disgust. Of course, it was tinted with a bit of… smugness? He reveled in the awkwardness.
“Nipotino.” The warmth in Don Manca’s address was evident. I glanced at Mario to see his reaction. A genuine smile spread across his face and he shook off my arm to hug his grandfather.
“Buonasera, Nonno. Che piacere vederti!”
“è passato troppo tempo! Questa signora non è la tua fidanzata. Sei pazzo?”
I looked to Mario for a translation.
Instead, he introduced me. “Don Manca, grandfather, this is my wife, Allie Jacobs now Valentini.”
His father winced.
“Matrimonio all’improvviso, o inferno o paradiso,” Don Manca muttered. Marriage, improvised…something…heaven or hell. Damn. He didn’t like me one bit.
Mario ignored his outburst and continued, “Allie, this is my grandfather, Don Manca.”
“A pleasure to meet you. Mario speaks fondly of you,” I said.
One eyebrow went up. “He speaks secrets?”
“Only about sheep.” I tried to smile, but the unwavering scrutiny was almost worse than his father’s deliberate cold shoulder.
“Do you like sheep?”
“When they aren’t trying to knock me over, yes.”
He laughed. “They all try. The trick is to never turn your back on them.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Allie is a veterinary surgeon,” Mario confided.
An out of work one, but I wasn’t going to mention that.
“Say it is a lie. This beautiful woman?”
“Sì, Aiaiu.”
Don Manca glanced at Mario’s left side. Apparently, he knew about the injury. I shot a glance to the corner where Loppa lurked. He quickly looked away. Guilty.
There were low words I couldn’t decipher. Mario’s father turned his head sharply and cocked it as if trying to figure out what was spoken. Apparently, it wasn’t Italian, or a dialect so strong he couldn’t make it out.
One Mario had no difficulty with. “Sì, Aiaiu. She knows.”
All humor fled from Don Manca’s face. His silence stretched for too long. Eventually, Mario dipped his head, as if caught doing something wrong.
I straightened my shoulders. I would not apologize for helping Mario, nor would I attempt to hide the truth. I slipped my arm back under Mario’s, lending him strength.
As I did, the scrutiny refocused on me.
Don Manca scanned me from head to toe. His eyes caught on the ring on my finger. The tension in his jaw made the wrinkles deepen. More low words to Mario, mostly unkind if his tone was any indication.
Mario shook his head. “I made my choice.”
Don Manca squinted at me then. “Your grandfather, Albert, do you remember him?”
“Yes, I was ten when he moved to Nevada. We visited when he came to town. He liked walnuts, and played a mean game of Euchre. That’s a card game which is popular where I grew up.”
“He played a mean game of Scopa, too.”
He knew my grandfather. I froze. Suddenly the danger Mario was in became a little too real.
Don Manca ignored my panic and carried on. “Albert was the best with numbers. Yours, his, it didn’t matter. Give him odds or transfers, and that man was a magician.”
Don Valentini cleared his throat.
“Someone’s jealous.” Mario’s grandfather laughed at his jibe.
He shot a quick, “Don’t worry, the man is dead,” to Don Valentini.
Then his attention refocused on Mario, and then me.
“You two will make magnificent children. I should hope to live to see a hundred and twenty, just to witness them come of age.” He leaned a little to confide in me.
“I turned ninety-seven this year.” His eyes wrinkled at the corners, but the distance in his eyes was palpable.
“There are eight centenarians in our village. Three years I’ll be lucky number nine.
” He wagged his fingers in the air as if to say, “Watch me. I’ll beat all of them. ”
“Don Manca, if you are done, we need to talk.” Don Valentini’s interruption was not subtle. His nod included Mario, but not me.
“I’ve said what I needed to say about the matter. My wife and I will retire until dinner.” Mario turned to lead me away, but his father had other plans.
“This cannot wait.”
Even Don Manca took offense. “It absolutely can wait. My grandson is newly married. Business will wait.”
“This business cannot.”
Despite being shorter than Don Valentini, Don Manca squared off in front of him. Loppa took three steps out of the corner and watched for any threats.
Don Manca shook a finger in front of his son-in-law’s face. “When you married my daughter I did not ask for your loyalty, but you agreed to allow her and any of her children to remain loyal to me, only me. Did you forget?”
“I did not.”
“Then your business waits.”
Don Valentini hesitated, but then dipped his head. “Of course.” He took two steps back before turning to leave the room.
However, the tension didn’t dissipate. The anger in Don Manca’s eyes fixed on the doorway his son in law departed from.
He mused aloud in English so I’d overhear.
“Mario is my youngest daughter’s child. Her mother was my third wife.
I’d divorced one, and buried another before I married his grandmother.
And she was the one great love of my life.
” He turned to face me. “Remember this when you prop him up to play his father’s show pony. He is all I have left of her.”
He motioned for my hand, the one with the ring on it.
Age or emotion made his hands shake as he lifted the emblem closer to get better light on it.
“This was one of two rings ever made with this seal. One is buried with my wife.” His sharp eyes met mine.
“My grandson is not a foolish man. But I fear Death has tapped his shoulder and muddled his mind. Do not be his downfall. I will not forgive that.”
“Don Manca,” Mario tried to reason with him.
“No. Do not cajole me. This is not a game.” He gripped my hand hard. “You made this woman your wife. And with this ring, you swore there would be no other while you both live.”
That declaration was awful, scary, and tragic. What if I was just a fevered bad decision? What if—
“There is no other for me.”
Oh, Mario. I wanted to plead with him to walk that back for his sake. I also wanted terribly for his words to be true, forever. I wanted to be his one great love. But we weren’t even close to making that choice yet.
Don Manca dropped my hand. “I hope you are not lying to me.” With that, he motioned for Loppa to follow him.
“Was that a shit show, or was it just my imagination?”
Mario’s exhale was heavy. “It went about as well as I expected.”
Great. At least one of us planned for this. “More rest. Real rest this time.”
Mario’s lips curved upward.
“I mean it.”
He shot me a sly look and held out his hand. “Death has tapped me on the shoulder.”
In response, the sound I made wasn’t pleasant. It revealed all my frustration and perhaps a small amount of the terror coursing through me. “That’s enough of that talk. You are not dying today.”
“You’ve never attended one of Father’s formal dinners then.”
Was that a joke?
God, I hoped it was.
The Valentini family’s penthouse was like those little nested Russian dolls. Every layer of it was luxurious, but more of the same pristine, exquisite sterility with a touch of color or splash of ostentatiousness that screamed money.
This layer, a grand dining room with attending kitchens and gathering salons, was a study in cream and gold with large windows showcasing the city’s majestic northern half.
The view was dominated by skyscrapers framed by the faint peaks of the Alps in the distance.
And like the layers above, there was a splash of color.
This time the color was a deep royal blue in the velvet cushions of the ivory seating.
Mario’s father must like blue. I logged that for later reference and searched for any familiar face in the crush.
There were over two dozen in attendance because the long table had place settings for thirty guests with its gold trimmed fine china, gilt-toned dinnerware, gold chargers, and fresh camellia centerpieces staggered every four feet down its impressive length.
Mario slipped his arm under mine. I almost switched the position back, but he captured my hand with his and leaned in. “This way I don’t telegraph weakness, and you are guarding my side.”
That made tactical sense. Although with my hand trapped so well, I couldn’t do more than nod and smile while he made introductions. Luckily, most of the guests noted his possessiveness with a nervous smile and perhaps a knowing wink or two.
“Who’s the show pony now?”
Mario smiled, and a small laugh leaked out. “You look beautiful tonight. It’s difficult to resist parading you in front of Father’s guests.”
The muted sage gown was one of the more elegant pieces chosen for me. But I regretted that I hadn’t gone with something more flashy. I was outclassed by the embossed damask wallpaper.
Or that necklace…I’d never seen diamonds that big in real life. The woman wearing it was practically a secondary attraction in her deep amethyst velvet gown and supermodel sleek looks.
A flash of red snagged my attention. It attracted Mario’s as well. A striking woman in crimson satin strode toward us as if there were no one else in the room. Her eyes were fixed on me. In them, I could almost see the ways she wanted to dismember me.
His grip on my hand got a little tighter. “Stay at my side.”
In spite of his hissed warning, he plastered a smile on his face. “Dianora, it’s a rare exception to see you at my father’s home.” His words didn’t match the guarded tone.
My heart rate picked up, likely triggered by the predatory way she scanned me from head to toe. Without more than that introduction, she hated me. Why?
“Hardly rare. Your father welcomes me and my family at his soirees. It is you who eludes capture religiously. I’m certain that’s a skill which has kept you alive lately.
” Her smile flashed wickedly before she continued.
“And this particular event is rife with rumors about your latest indiscretions. I can’t wait to see what kind of…
entertainment… there is in store for us tonight.
” Her lips puckered into a little moue, telegraphing disappointment more than excitement.
She is a liar, my intuition whispered.
And worse? There was a history between Mario and Dianora. One I couldn’t begin to prepare for because the “entertainment” had already begun. I could practically hear the out of tune strains of a macabre circus playing in my head.
Would it be awful to flash the ring? Yes, it totally would.
But that didn’t stop me from placing my left hand over Mario’s too-tight grip on my right hand. It made a cozy sandwich with my only piece of jewelry as armor to guard him from her evil clutches.
Her eyes dipped and noted the emblem in the flat oval of gold. Instantly, the skin around her eyes tightened and her eyes narrowed. One eyebrow went up as she met my eyes. “You work fast.”
Mario moved between us. “When Death smiles in your face, you learn how to move quickly.”
Almost willfully, she relaxed and smiled. “That is nothing new. You make dancing with death a habit, dear Mario. That’s not a wise choice.” Her outstretched hand brushed his arm as she pretended to offer him a different path.
Her words were uttered with an air of superiority and familiarity I couldn’t hope to match. Ever.
“Allie, my bride, this is Dianora Conti, heir to her family’s fortune after the untimely demise of her brother, Adelmo. An unfortunate event barely even a week past. Yet she wears red tonight.”
That told me a hell of a lot in very few words.
“And Dianora, this is my wife, Allie, formerly Jacobs, of Chicago. She’s one of Albert Pulaski’s grandchildren.
Did your father once work with him? I seem to recall he may have held some capital in an overseas conglomerate.
I personally know Adelmo had dealings with that company since.
Perhaps you two have common business interests? ”
Dianora’s eyelids lowered, shielding her thoughts. But that didn’t matter. The way her chin went up at the mention of her brother, again, didn’t speak of grief, unless she was in the anger phase.
Considering the carefully bitten words being shot back and forth between Mario and her, that could be true.
Her white teeth caught the overhead light as she forced a smile.
“You shield yourself admirably, Mario. But all the riches in the world won’t stop my father’s vengeance.
He’ll want to see his son’s killer dead.
No foreign relationships or family heirlooms can protect you from what is coming.
And now that I have heard from your own lips that my dear brother discussed business with you before he was murdered, well…
Father will need to know that information, won’t he?
” Her smile grew more poisonous. “What is the price on your head at now, I wonder? Was it, fifteen million? Or perhaps twenty?”
Mario hadn’t taken his eyes off her. I didn’t dare move because this was a battle of two apex predators.
I was simply the human gazelle caught unawares between them as they squared off.
It had been foolish to flash the ring. In that silly act of jealousy, I hadn’t staked my claim, I’d stepped into the line of fire.