Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Dante
T he sound of Mia’s untroubled laughter hit me. I lifted my gaze and cast it quickly around the terrace to find her.
I located her over on the other side of the large expanse of marble tiles, near where the De Lucas had just a few minutes earlier walked in to respectful clapping. She was talking and laughing with a man, one that even with his back to me I instantly recognised. Tall, with the same dark hair they all seemed to have inherited from their paternal line, I understood it had to be a De Luca. As Romeo stood up from talking to his grandfather in my peripheral view, I knew the man she was making doe eyes at, and using the engagement in their animated conversation to reach out to touch the top of his arm, was none other than Gabriel De Luca. He, in return, occasionally rested his free hand on her almost bare shoulder and bent closer to her to whisper in her ear.
She was as close as could be considered decent to the youngest male De Luca. In response, I exhaled forcibly as the anger and resentment I’d been asked to keep under wraps forced its way out. I shucked off the relaxed persona I’d been attempting to convince others of and, uncrossing my ankles, I moved off the terrace wall I’d been sitting on, stood tall and crossed my arms over my chest. My sudden movement caused my mum and papa to instinctively turn to look at me.
Without any words leaving the three of us, I nodded respectfully at them to let them know I wouldn’t break the promise I’d made them earlier.
I would remain a respectful, polite and a dutiful son.
Even if it killed me.
Her laughter found me again and, against my better judgement, I watched as Gabriel, the boy and now the man that Mia had always had a crush on, expertly placed his hand to the back of her neck. Then, as he pulled her to him to speak in her ear. As her cheeks filled with heat and she lightly bit the corner of her mouth, I appreciated that their conversation might have seemed to others innocent, but it was far from it.
‘Well, fuck,’ I whispered under my breath.
‘Okay?’ Marco, my best friend since childhood and now my righthand man, questioned as he pushed a bottle of beer in my direction.
Gratefully, I took the ice-cold bottle from his grasp, placed it to my lips and jolting my head back quickly, I released some of its goodness down my throat. I could only hope it would help to quell the rising anger I was struggling to contain.
‘I said, are you okay?’ he tried again.
‘What do you think?’ I retorted.
I thought back to a few weeks previously when Salvatore and I had our overdue conversation on the beach. This here, was going to prove the catalyst; I could feel it. Being in any of their company twice inside of two months, was going to prove a problem for me. Unless I could think of a way out.
Moving fast and trying to fabricate a sense of detachment, I turned around to look at the view of the beach I’d always enjoyed spending my annual family break on. That was, until the De Lucas had come barrelling into our lives. The hatred I had for them all was all-consuming. Salvatore De Luca had been the catalyst in my elder brother’s death, my papa’s ill health and subsequently the destabilisation of our family name here in the land of our birth. Then there was the marriage of my then sixteen-year-old sister as payment.
Recognising my hatred and searing resentment towards them, I’d been sent back to England to learn my mum’s family business at the hands of my uncles. But really, I knew I’d been sent away so I wouldn’t break the uneasy and tentative truce between the Giordanos and the De Lucas. It hadn’t sat well with me. I wanted to be at home to help fight to clear our name, but I’d done as directed. I’d only been brought back when Serafina had left for England to train as a doctor and, simultaneously, war had broken out between our extended family in Calabria and the Ricolletis from Sicily and the Lombardis from Rome, when they had sensed a possible weakness after Don Ferraro had died and Salvatore De Luca senior had been voted in to take his place.
I’d done what I’d been trained to do and had fought alongside them as we defended our families, our way of life and homeland from their clutches. The strength and men we, the Giordano family, had brought to fight alongside them, had meant the previous allegations of wrongdoing that had been directed towards my innocent papa, had been relinquished and all but forgotten by all.
All, it seemed, bar me.
Serafina had been back in the clutches of her husband for weeks and Mia was making all the right noises at becoming the next Mrs De Luca. It appeared the pain we’d lived with over the past few years, was being effectively swept under the carpet.
‘I think you need to take a chill pill, bro.’
‘Have you seen who Mia is with?’ I heard the condemnation in my voice as I shot him an accusing look.
‘Yeah…’ He shrugged his shoulders at me. ‘It’s not really a surprise though, is it? Even you, with your thick skin and even thicker head, must have heard the numerous times your family had hinted at the two of them.’
Her laughter reached me again. It was the sort of laugh I hadn’t heard her emit since we were carefree children running on the beach below us. Without turning around, I knew her obvious happiness was because she was with him. As far back as I could remember, when I was still young and trying to understand the opposite sex, I used to sit outside my sister’s bedroom door. Once there, I used to listen to their conversations and I could remember her saying that she wanted to be with Gabriel, even back then. It seemed that time, history, and circumstance, hadn’t swayed her at all.
The clarity and truth hurt.
‘Fuck off.’ I shook my head at his accusations knowing how true they were. Not ten minutes before, I’d congratulated myself on keeping myself to myself, as per my papa’s orders. To comply, I’d been staring at the beautiful Italian marble tiled floor as I traced its coloured veins.
It was all too much.
First Serafina, and now Mia.
Surely, I wasn’t going to end up the unhappy bastard who had two fucking De Lucas for brothers-in-law?
Marco, ever the loyal friend, turned at the same time as me and, after knocking his shoulder into mine, spoke again.
‘It’s just a couple of hours. All you need to do is to make polite conversation and be friendly. Then you’ll have done your bit. The plane is ready to go back to England just as soon as you are. Once there, you can find yourself a gorgeous virginal English rose, as seems to be your preference.’ He tried to make light of the tense atmosphere.
‘Fuck off,’ I retorted, then acknowledged what he’d just said. ‘I know you’re right,’ I conceded, as I tipped the bottle I was holding up high once again and drained the remaining beer.
‘Giovanna… you look stunning!’ I heard Mia shout above the low, continuous rumble of the many guests making small talk.
As I finished the last drops and released the bottle from my mouth, I turned to look over my shoulder. Having removed the brown glass from my view and turned fully around, my eyes fell on the adult version of the terrified little girl I’d met on a few occasions. Suddenly, my red mist dispersed, and my path forward became clearer.
‘Wow, would you look at that,’ I heard Marco’s words of approval. ‘She’s nice, ’ he added, putting extra emphasis on the last word out of his mouth, letting me know he was also conscious of the woman I was watching intently.
‘She’s not just nice, ’ I replied. ‘She’s so beautiful, she reminds me of a piece of artwork.’ I could feel the subtle shake of my head as I ran my eyes over her, appreciating her in her entirety.
‘If you say so.’ I heard the laughter in his voice and felt his shoulder knock against mine again.
‘And art was never meant to look nice …’ Words I would have normally kept inside my head fell without a care from my mouth. Marco spoke the rest of the saying at the exact same time it fell from my lips, ‘It was made to make you feel something.’
Fuck! She is a vision.
The grown-up version of Giovanna stirred up something visceral inside me.
‘Thanks, mate.’ I passed my now empty beer bottle in Marco’s direction and began to move.
‘What’s happening?’ he questioned in disbelief, with a hint of a warning tone.
‘I’m off to be friendly and make polite conversation. Apparently, it’s all I have to do.’
‘No,’ Marco offered in response, as he slowly shook his head.
I offered him a laugh in reply.
Looking down at myself, I checked my appearance and then lifted a hand to smooth back my longer lengths of hair. Within seconds, I was walking towards the only person on the whole terrace who would help me keep my promise, but equally one who might be able to help me with so very much more.