CHAPTER 38
"I saw the man who walked my dress to the altar die between me and two bullets. He said thank you for the lilies before he closed his eyes."
Valentina MORETTI
The nonna had coffee with me in the green room.
"You're pale, signora."
"I slept badly."
"Did you eat?"
"Yes, cornetto."
She made that face of hers with the cane resting against her knee.
"Signora."
"Sì, nonna."
"I'm going back to Capri."
I swallowed hard. Madonna, I thought. She's noticing something in me. And she won't tell me.
"When?"
"Soon."
"Va bene, nonna."
It was a crash first.
Not a gunshot, a car hitting something. A loud metallic sound, coming from the north ramp. Then, a second later, the first shots.
"Madonna!" Donna Beatrice screamed. "Signora, get down!"
The nonna took a step back. The corner of the mahogany table hit her temple, and she fell to her knees, blood on her forehead.
"Nonna!"
I pulled her under the baby grand piano. The shots came through the glass of the music room, white splinters on the marble floor.
"Stay, nonna."
"Sì."
Luca appeared in the doorway, running. White shirt, pistol in hand, two soldiers behind him.
"Bella mia! The service exit!"
"The nonna's hurt!"
"Donna Beatrice will take care of her! Vieni!"
I kissed her forehead with the blood still running and came out from under the piano.
Tonio appeared through the kitchen door with a pistol in his hand.
"Signora, come!"
I ran after him, Luca behind me. Donna Beatrice stayed with the nonna.
We crossed the kitchen. Some pots were broken, a pan on the floor, the window glass shattered.
Tonio opened the pantry door, but the door opened onto two men coming in from the other side.
"Cazzo!" Tonio shouted.
He turned, put his body between me and the two men.
I saw the two shots leave the pistol of the man in the middle, saw the two bullets go into Tonio's chest, saw his black shirt fill with dark brown in two spots almost over the sternum.
Tonio staggered backward.
"Tonio."
Luca ran past me and fired twice. The two men fell, one by one, in the pantry doorway.
Tonio slid from my arm to the floor. I sat down beside him and put his head in my lap.
"Tonio, look at me."
"Signora."
"Hold on."
"Signora…" He laughed a little, blood in his mouth. "Thank you for the lilies."
I went still. The lilies. My father's lilies.
I felt something I didn't have a name for yet.
"Tonio."
He closed his eyes, and his hand fell from my arm.
I washed his blood off my dress at the bedroom bathroom at four in the afternoon.
Luca came in and shut the door, and went to the sink. He took my hands away from the faucet and washed them for me, slowly, every finger, the hot water carrying Tonio's blood down the drain.
"Bella mia."
"Sì."
"You're going to Capri tonight."
"Luca…"
"With the nonna. And with Matteo."
I swallowed hard.
"Matteo?"
"I'm letting him out now."
I felt my blood boil. With relief, with anger, with fear, with everything at once.
"I don't want to go."
"Bella mia, today you go. I'll come with you as far as Capri, but I'll be back early tomorrow."
"Luca."
"Lo prometto, I'll come get you in two weeks at the most."
I rested my forehead against his chest, over the Latin tattoo. I felt his heart still beating fast—it hadn't come down from the run downstairs.
"Va bene," I murmured.
"Brava."
He kissed me, long, with salt on both our faces—mine from tears, his from sweat.
I didn't cry for Tonio in front of Luca, I didn't cry for the nonna in front of Luca.
I cried later, in the bathroom of the yacht, with the door locked.