Chapter Six
Safia
Grown Man Now
A year had passed since that unforgettable opening night for Romeo and Juliet. Now, Marcello was set to graduate high school, and my uncle had agreed to let me attend the ceremony and a celebratory dinner with his family. However, before agreeing, he had insisted on talking to Marcello’s father, Ramiri, to ensure my safety.
After much deliberation during our ensuing nightly sparring matches, he gave his blessing for me to spend my first unchaperoned night with Marcello as long as I was home by eleven p.m. I thanked him profusely and spent the entire day finding the perfect dress to wear, finally deciding on a turquoise off shoulder summer dress.
Marcello had mentally prepared me for my time with his family, letting me know they were an offspring of a powerful Italian family known as the Savage Bloodline. Sensing my unease, he assured me that I would be safe around them, and quite frankly, that the DeLuca home was one of the safest places to be in the entire state.
As I sat in the auditorium where the graduation was held, the anticipation buzzing in the air was contagious. The graduates were a sea of black caps and gowns, but my eyes were fixed on just one figure. When Marcello’s name was called, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I screamed his name, the sound echoing in the hall. I watched eagerly as he crossed the stage, his confident stride carrying him toward his diploma. His father beamed with pride beside me, clapping and whistling.
The moment the ceremony ended, I bolted from my seat, weaving through the throngs of people to reach him. With yellow roses clutched in my hand, I threw myself into his arms, feeling his strength envelop me as he lifted me off the ground. Laughter came easily as I held on tight. “You made it out of high school! You’re a grown man now,” I teased as he eased me back onto my feet.
Marcello’s face lit up with that irresistible smile of his, and he scattered kisses all over my cheeks, each one sending a flutter through my heart. “Thanks so much for coming, baby! I’m your grown man now and forever.”
I gazed into his piercing brown eyes. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Congratulations! You’ve worked so hard for this.”
He held my gaze as if trying to convey everything he felt in that moment. “Thanks, but today wouldn”t have been the same without you being here with me.”
We stood there oblivious to the crowd bustling around us. Once again, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of us. Then, a gentle throat-clearing pulled us back to reality. We turned to see Marcello”s father, Ramiri, standing a few steps away with a proud smile on his face.
“Congratulations, son,” Ramiri said, his deep voice filled with warmth and pride. He clapped Marcello on the back, his eyes gleaming with approval. “You’ve made us all very proud today.”
Marcello’s smile widened as he turned to embrace his father. “Thanks, Dad. But you would have killed me if I hadn’t made it to graduation.”
“I wouldn’t say kill, but maybe I would have done something a little lighter,” Ramiri joked before his gaze shifted to me. “Your beautiful friend here wouldn’t have allowed me to kill you.”
I nodded in agreement and replied, “No, I couldn’t allow that.”
“Thanks for having my back.” Marcello chuckled, his hand slightly tightening around mine. “Are you ready to meet the rest of my family? You’re going to love them.”
I nodded, and Ramiri led the way to the car.
As we drove towards their home, the drive was filled with animated conversation, and I couldn’t help but admire the close bond between Marcello and his father. Their relationship was one of mutual respect and deep affection, and while it made me long for just one more day with my father, it warmed my heart to witness it.
When we arrived at the house, which looked more like a compound, my breath caught in my throat. The estate was more than beautiful. It was exquisite. The grand entrance, flanked by lush gardens and towering trees, led to a mansion that seemed to glow under the setting sun. I knew the DeLucas were rich, based on what Marcello told me of his family’s business, but their home was grander than anyplace I had ever been.
As we entered the house, I was struck by the luxury of the grand, inviting foyer and living room. Soft light filtered through crystal chandeliers, casting a golden glow over the polished marble floors. Rich paintings decorated the walls, their intricate designs telling stories of the DeLuca legacy.
Marcello squeezed my hand, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Welcome to our home.”
“Wow,” I breathed, unable to contain my amazement. “This is... breathtaking.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Ramiri responded, guiding us to the dining room where a huge feast fit for an army awaited.
The sprawling table was set with exquisite china and sparkling crystal. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of delicious dishes. It was a celebration befitting a king.
Throughout the evening, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Marcello. Seeing him in this opulent setting, surrounded by his family, gave me a different view of his world. However, somehow and remarkably, he remained the same Marcello I had fallen in love with at the theater. He laughed, talked, and enjoyed the finer things in life with the same candor he enjoyed a cheap cup of coffee on the impoverished Hanover Street.
Sure, I found myself occasionally marveling at the beauty and grace of the home, but more than that, I was struck by the warmth and openness of the DeLuca family. They welcomed me into their world with open arms, making me feel like I truly belonged.
After dinner, I found myself standing near the grand fireplace, admiring a painting that hung above it, when a voice interrupted my thoughts.
“You must be the stunning Lanay that has captured my friend’s attention,” a young man said, his tone casual yet tinged with curiosity. He was tall and striking, with a playful glint in his eye. “I’m Romeo. Marcello’s talked about you a lot, and I have caught glimpses of you from across the street.”
I smiled politely, extending my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Romeo. Marcello has told me about his friends too.”
Romeo took my hand in his gentle grip. “Only good things, I hope?” he asked, his voice dropping into a smooth, almost flirtatious murmur.
“Mostly,” I replied, laughing softly. “He did mention you have a bit of a reputation with the ladies.”
Romeo grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Ah, don’t believe everything you hear. I’m much more loyal than my charm allows people to believe.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “And I must say, you’re even more stunning than Marcello described.”
I glanced away, unsure how to respond. Before I could say anything, another voice cut in, this one deeper and carrying authority.
“I think Marcello will chop off your fingers for talking to his girl that way,” the man Marcello had introduced as his older cousin spoke, his tone carrying a blend of jest and warning. He was a formidable figure with a no-nonsense glint in his eyes. “I most certainly would chop off a man’s finger for complimenting my woman that way, especially a man who knows she’s mine.”
Romeo chuckled nervously, raising his hands in surrender. “Just being friendly, Vito. No need for drastic measures.”
Vito stepped closer, his presence commanding. “Friendly or not, you might want to keep those compliments in check,” he said, his voice low but firm. He turned to me, his expression softening slightly. “I’m just looking out for Marcello. All of my little cousins are like little brothers to me.”
“Marcello is lucky to have family who care about him so much.” I smiled, thinking of how my father would protect me the same way if he were still alive.
Vito nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. “We all look out for each other. And now, that includes you, Lanay. Welcome to the family.”
His words, though simple, touched me deeply. I glanced back at Romeo, who gave me a wink and a knowing smile before wandering off to join another conversation.
Marcello appeared at my side, slipping his arm around my waist. “I see you’ve met Romeo and Vito.”
“Yes, we’ve met,” I replied, leaning into him.
Vito was about to say something, but his phone started buzzing, so he shifted his attention to the device. “I have to take this.” He excused himself to answer the call.
Marcello pressed a kiss to my temple. “You’re getting along well with my family like I knew you would.”
“They’re nice.”
“Not nearly as nice as you.” He twirled me around, assessing me like a piece of fine china. “You truly are beautiful tonight. Not that you aren’t every time I see you.”
If the room weren’t filled with people, I would kiss him, and I mean really kiss him with my soul. But since we were surrounded, I simply smiled and said, “Thanks for the compliment.”
“It’s time to open the gifts,” Ramiri announced, his voice cutting through the lively chatter. The room quieted as everyone turned their attention to the center, where a table laden with presents awaited.
Marcello and I made our way over, and he took a seat while I stood beside him, eager to see what lay inside the elegantly wrapped boxes. The first few gifts were thoughtful and practical—books, clothes, and some electronics. Each one was met with sincere thanks from Marcello and polite applause from the guests.
Then, Ramiri handed Marcello a larger box, wrapped in sleek black paper with a crimson ribbon. “This one’s from your Cousin Enzo,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.
Marcello had explained their family’s ranks to me. His cousin Enzo was favored to be next in line to be the leader of the DeLuca family. They called their leader ‘the don’. Therefore, I sensed the significance of the future don’s gift even before Marcello opened it.
He carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a sleek, polished machine gun nestled inside a velvet-lined case. The room held a collective breath. Alongside the weapon was a card. Marcello opened it to find ten thousand dollars in crisp bills and a handwritten note from Enzo: “Make your mark, Marcello. The family stands behind you.”
Marcello looked up, his eyes meeting his fathers with understanding. “Grazie, Enzo,” he murmured, as if speaking directly to his cousin across the ocean.
Before the murmurs turned into conversation, Vito stepped forward. As the local capo, he commanded respect effortlessly, and the room seemed to still as he approached and handed Marcello a crisp, white envelope.
“Open it,” Vito said.
Marcello did as instructed, revealing a check for ten thousand dollars. He looked up, visibly moved by the gesture.
Vito placed a hand on Marcello’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “Make the DeLuca name proud,” he said, his words a blend of command and encouragement. “Show the world who we are.” There was a seriousness in his tone that spoke volumes about the expectations and the support that came with it.
Marcello nodded. “I will, Vito. Thank you.”
Vito’s intense gaze softened slightly, and he gave Marcello’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. The room seemed to exhale collectively, the tension easing as the capo returned to his place among the guests.
Next, Don Ermano, Marcello’s grandfather and the revered patriarch of the DeLuca family, rose to his feet. His presence commanded respect, and even in his advanced years, there was an undeniable strength and wisdom in his gaze.
He lifted his glass. “To my grandson, Marcello,” Don Ermano began, quieting the room. “You have grown into a fine young man, one who embodies the values and spirit of our family. Your journey is just beginning, but I have no doubt that you will carry our legacy forward with honor and courage.”
He paused, his eyes softening as they met Marcello’s. “I have seen many seasons pass and many changes come to our family. But the pride I feel tonight, seeing you step into your future, is beyond measure.”
Don Ermano then motioned to one of his aides, who stepped forward carrying a small, ornate box. “This,” he said, opening the box to reveal a beautifully crafted, vintage pocket watch, “has been passed down through generations of DeLuca men. It is a symbol of time’s passage and the enduring strength of our family. I now pass it on to you, Marcello, with the hope that you will always remember the importance of time and the legacy you uphold.”
Marcello accepted the watch with amazement. “Thank you, Nonno,” he said quietly, his voice thick with gratitude. “I will cherish this and the legacy it represents.”
As Don Ermano took his seat, the room erupted in applause, the depth of the moment not lost on anyone present. The watch wasn’t just a gift; it was a tangible connection to the past.
As the evening’s formalities ended, the atmosphere lightened once more. Conversations resumed, and laughter filled the air again. But seeing the gifts Marcello received—symbols of power, wealth, and responsibility—had given me a deeper insight into the world he was a part of, a world that was foreign to me.
Marcello turned to me. “Well, that was something,” he said with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood. “What did you think?”
I smiled back, trying to convey all the emotions swirling inside me. “I think you have an incredible family—a very rich, incredible family.”
“Thanks. Are you comfortable being here tonight?” he asked, searching my eyes.
I shook my head. “No, no, I’m fine. And I think you’re going to do amazing things, Marcello.”
He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against mine. “With you by my side, I know I will.”
“Nipote, vieni qui,” Don Ermano called out in his native tongue, his voice both commanding and tender. He motioned with his hand, beckoning Marcello to come closer. The old man”s eyes, still sharp despite his age, were filled with a warmth and pride that was unmistakable.
Marcello turned to me. “My grandfather wants to talk to me. Do you want to go over with me?” he asked, his voice soft, as if trying not to break the spell of the moment.
I shook my head gently, giving him an encouraging smile. “No, you go. I’ll hang out right here until you get back,” I said, squeezing his hand. “This is your moment with him.”
As Marcello walked away, Romeo sidled up next to me again, his earlier flirtatiousness now replaced with a seriousness. “So, Lanay, what’s it like seeing Marcello in this setting?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.
I glanced at Marcello, who was deep in conversation with his grandfather, Ramiri, and Vito. Seeing him surrounded by his family gave me a new appreciation for his stories.
“It’s impressive,” I admitted. “He’s talked about his family, but seeing it all in person... it’s something else.”
Romeo nodded, his gaze lingering on Marcello. “Yeah, it’s quite a setup. They’ve always made sure the path is clear for him. I guess it’s easy to shine when you’re standing on the shoulders of giants.”
I smiled. “Definitely. It’s amazing to have such a strong foundation to build on.”
Romeo’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave a thin smile. “True. It’s just that not everyone gets handed a golden ladder to climb.”
I laughed softly. “But isn’t that what family’s for? To lift each other up?”
Romeo shrugged. “Sure. But some people just have all the luck, while others like me have no support.”
I nodded, still watching Marcello with admiration. “Well, we all have different paths, this is true. The good thing is we all have the power to change our luck,” I encouraged. “Besides, Marcello is strong with his own mind. I am sure as time passes he will show more of his strength independent of his family. It’s going to be wonderful to see his growth.”
Romeo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, wonderful,” he said, his tone dripping with an irony that I couldn’t understand. “But don’t mind me. I’m happy for my friend. I’m just a little salty over no one in my family attending my graduation last night.”
Before I could respond, Vito’s voice carried over the room, directing the room’s attention once more. “To Marcello,” he toasted, raising his glass high.
I gave Romeo a sympathetic nod before turning my attention to Vito.
“To a future filled with success, honor and loyalty. Make us proud,” Vito continued.
Everyone raised their glasses, echoing the sentiment. “To Marcello!”
Marcello stood, his glass held high, and looked around at the faces of his family and friends. “Thank you, everyone. For your support, your guidance, and your love. I promise to honor the DeLuca name and make you all proud.”
His words were met with cheers and applause.
After Marcello returned to my side, I noticed Romeo had disappeared from the crowd.
I leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Marcello’s cheek. “Well, Mr. DeLuca,” I whispered with a playful smile, “looks like you’ve got the world at your feet. Just don’t trip over those fancy shoes.”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and pulled me closer. “I’ll do my best, Ms. Sanders. But if I do, promise you’ll catch me?”
“Always,” I replied softly, our foreheads touching. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll trip too. We can fall together.”
Marcello”s laughter mingled with the buzz of the crowd. “Deal. But only if you promise to hold my hand the whole way down.”
I grinned and nodded. “It’s a date.”