Epilogue
Dante
Three hundred and sixty days later
I looked outside of the boxes we were seated in, to find that virtually every seat in the Sala Santa St. Cecilia in Rome was full. Every box contained at least one person, and the stalls were heaving with people clutching the program my wife had designed, in their hands. This evening had been the brainchild of Giovanna and my sister Serafina, to raise money for the St. Cecilia Conservatory. A place that given Serafina’s son Luca’s, our nephew’s, partial deafness, was close to all our hearts. Even Salvatore was in attendance.
The hall was stunning. It seated, I had been reliably informed, just under three thousand people. And it was fitting that it was sold out, just as she deserved it to be.
My wife had worked harder to reach this, than I had ever seen anyone else strive to do anything. It had taken nearly six months for Giovanna to get to the point in her recovery where she could play the piano and feel she could even attempt something like this. And nearly another six months later, the specialists were still advising her that although all her fingers had healed, with their strength sometimes in question, she shouldn’t push.
But Giovanna was a law unto herself. With her parents gone, and now surrounded by the love of her family, and with her forever grateful husband by her side, she had told me only yesterday that she felt she could take on the world.
The love I had for the woman grew each day, and every night when I held her in my arms, I endeavoured to make sure she could not only feel that love, but also that she understood she and I would never be apart again. But the truth was, while I had spent a year making sure Giovanna was able to return to full health, mentally and physically, I had also spent a year holding myself back, from the way I wanted to not only take care of her, provide for and protect her from the outside world, but also from my need to dominate her. A gentle lover I could be, but I understood that I couldn’t be that way for the rest of my life.
Heat swept through me at my own thoughts.
Sitting up straighter, I stuck a finger inside the white shirt I was wearing, at the thought of all those years of her not being by my side and feeling the need, I loosened my tie and exhaled loudly, a little too loudly. I watched in my peripheral view as Luna, my brother’s wife, leant forward and around him to offer me a quick grin.
‘Nervous?’ Alessio asked. ‘The place is secure; I promise you that.’
‘I know, Brother.’ I lifted my hand over the wheelchair he now had to use and dropped it on his nearest shoulder. He had defied all the odds and had fought to return to us after his ambush. His brain was as sharp and focussed as ever, but a bullet had severed his spine, and he would never regain the use of his legs. On the plus side, he and Luna had just announced that they were to be parents for the second time, and with the deepest respect, when the men in the family were together for any reason, our banter had recently been about how pleased we were that something other than his brain and mouth still worked.
Salvatore had, a short time ago, made him his consigliere. Romeo, Gabriel and I were now his joint under bosses, which showed the mutual respect our two families now had for each other. It also showed all outsiders our strength. In our part of the world, strength and the loyalty we had for our families and our way of life meant our children were safe, and if we had anything to do with it, would remain that way.
‘I’m not nervous,’ I carried on. ‘I trust you with the security—My wife is a brilliant pianist, and Rome is about to be blown away by her.’
‘I understand,’ he offered, nodding.
‘I’m not sure you do,’ I admitted. ‘This, tonight… all of it, is amazing. She’s amazing and she’s worked so damned hard to get here.’ I curled up the program in my hand, the one that showed the world what a beautiful woman my wife was. The one that thousands of other eyes had already feasted on and a pang of jealousy coursed through my veins, igniting everything in me that I’d always sworn never to turn into. I might have a deep respect for Salvatore De Luca, but the thought of turning into him was an ever-present threat. Although why, I didn’t understand. He loved and cared for my sister, their children and our extended family. I exhaled and looked around the elegant hall again, hoping to calm myself.
As if Serafina and Salvatore could feel my inner battle, they both caught my eye and smiled from their box opposite ours. When Salvatore reached for my sister’s hand and brought it to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, I watched on intently. As he claimed his wife, he raised his glass of Grappa in a silent salute and lifted his eyebrows in question, and I knew he understood. Romeo leant closer to him and said something that no matter how much I tried to read, I couldn’t, and the two arseholes laughed, while looking straight at me.
Maybe my struggle hadn’t been as well concealed as I thought.
Fuckers.
I uncurled the program and looked once at the photograph that had been taken of her sitting at the piano her grandfather had bought her, wearing a deep green coloured ballgown. Her beauty, intelligence and kindness shone through.
‘But you’d like her to yourself for a while,’ Alessio carried on.
‘Something like that,’ I admitted, not wanting to say out loud that what I really needed was to lock her up in our home back in Calabria and keep her barefoot and pregnant for the next fifty fucking years.
‘I get it, and it will come.’
‘It will,’ I replied, with more conviction than I dared hope for.
Trying to find some silence to ponder my own thoughts, I started to flick through the pages I’d placed on my lap. Pictures of the conservatory, the teaching staff and the children the concert had been put together to help, filled my vision. Then I thought of back home, where our parents and Gabriel and Mia had stayed, to look after the eleven grandchildren of the De Lucas and Giordanos. They even had Salvatore and Serafina’s youngest twin daughters, Rosa and Lia, who had arrived slightly early, when Serafina had gone into labour as we fought to bring Giovanna home. I smiled when I thought of my parents, in their element, with their nipoti.
One day soon, amore mio, our many babies will join them.
Giovanna
I stood back and looked at myself in the full-length mirror of the dressing room. For a few seconds, I almost didn’t recognise the woman staring back at me. The gown I’d chosen for this evening was burnt orange in colour, it had a strapless corset, and the gown followed every contour of my body until it reached my knees, where it then fanned out enough for me to walk. When Serafina had gone with me to buy something for this evening, her eyes had lit up when she’d found the dress. I’d almost had to pour myself into it to try it on, but however hesitant I’d been about buying it, that had completely dissipated when I saw my reflection standing tall in the dress. It was perfect, all I’d had to check was that I could sit to play the piano.
‘Perfect,’ I whispered to myself, as I smoothed my hands over my hips.
I knew the dress was perfection and it added a glow to my skin. It would also offer me the courage I needed to go and play in front of the thousands of people who had purchased tickets for the evening. I was only playing a few pieces, as some of the students were also taking part. But I knew in my heart, that my favourite part of the evening would be when I played Für Elise, the piece of music that I would dedicate to my grandfather. The same one that I had played to him the day I left to go and join Dante, and I hoped I would feel him there with me, just like he’d promised me all those years before.
I thought about the similarities of the two different occasions.
Here I was, as I once again prepared to walk away from something I had for as long as I could remember felt I wanted in my life. Ready and willing to embrace something I hadn’t until the past twelve months felt was for me. Now, older and wiser, I knew that was because of Dante. I had always fought against staying enfolded within my family and becoming a ‘Ndrangheta wife, until he had come back into my life. Then the doubts I’d had slipped away.
I was his wife, I wanted to bare his children at home in Calabria. I wanted to wake beside him in the morning, share breakfast and be there when he returned the same day. Not travel the world playing piano, leaving all I loved behind me. The concert this evening marked the end of one chapter of my life and the start of another.
An escalating volume was filtering through to me. It told me that many of the patrons for this evening had already taken their seats, and I swallowed down my ever-increasing nervousness.
Slowly, I trailed the fingers of my right hand down the plunge in between my breasts. The same plunge that meant I couldn’t wear a bra with it. This was an added extra to an already stunning creation, and when I’d bought it, the only person in my mind had been my husband. The past year with him, had been nothing short of the best year of my life. He had loved and cared for me. Cajoled and comforted me, when I couldn’t see a way through the pain and torment of having all my fingers broken, with so many adhesions to the skin it had been thought on more than one occasion, that I might lose at least one of my fingers through infection.
Soon after I’d been allowed home from hospital, Salvatore and Dante had spoken to us all, women included, which in generations before us would have been unheard of. They’d explained that Ricco and the woman I used to refer to as my mama had been present at his mama’s kidnap and subsequent death and had also kidnapped many other women and children. The noise Ricco’s shoes made when he walked was one of the things the women who had survived had spoken of remembering, even when they didn’t know what he looked like. Dante had comforted me after, when time and time again in my nightmares, I’d heard Ricco’s shoes as they met the pier, while he danced around with his face on fire.
Dante’s love had been steadfast and true, gentle and kind. But I knew that Dante was holding himself back. He treated me as though I might shatter and break. Probably, because for a while back there I might well have done without him in my life. But from this day forward I was going to be the woman I wanted to be, for him.
In the auditorium, I heard the music begin, and the audience fell into a hush.
I inhaled slowly and let out a soft sigh.
‘This is it. The first day of the rest of our lives, Dante. I hope you’re ready for me.’
I knew, after attending practice after practice, that by now the lights would have been dimmed, all except the lights pointing to the stage. On the stage would be the principio del conservatorio, his address would take five minutes and then I would be introduced.
With one last look in the mirror, I checked my long hair, which I had curled and left deliberately cascading down my back the way my husband preferred. My make-up was strong enough for the lights, but subtle enough not to conceal the real me, the one I’d taken nearly twenty-nine years to find.
I trembled as I walked to my spot just off stage. Then, as the principal introduced me, and my name was met with loud applause, I took in a deep breath. Every step I took towards the stool placed in front of my piano was tentative, until I finally heard my grandfather’s voice. When I sat, I did so with a confidence I’d only ever felt before in Dante’s arms
‘I see you, Giovanna, and I have a need to tell you what I want for you. I have placed Salvatore as head of the family, and he will do a good job. Your other brothers will fall into line beneath him. But know this…’ He’d coughed again and continued, ‘One day you will also be in the position of the facilitator.’
‘Facilitator?’ I’d questioned, puzzled at his use of the word.
‘Yes. You will one day be in a position that makes this family stronger, or be the one who tears it apart.’
‘Me?’ I’d answered with fear creeping into my tone.
‘I have every faith you will choose the right path.’ He’d nodded as he’d swallowed, trying to curb a cough that now seemed to be ever present.
‘You will become your own woman; this will mean you butting heads with Salvatore. First and foremost, be safe and listen to his direction where it counts, then live your dream, work hard, and learn the piano until there is nothing more for anyone to teach you. When you play at your first concert, I will be there on your shoulder like you’re now on mine.’
In my heart I could feel him with me, and it gave me the strength I needed.
‘Good evening.’ I spoke into the microphone placed on the piano. ‘Thank you so much for coming. Your patronage to this wonderful conservatory is overwhelming. This is the concert I have dreamt my whole life of playing.’ I stopped and smiled, before looking up at the box right in front of me. The one that I knew contained Dante.
A ripple of light applause met my statement.
The lighting technician had done a first-rate job. I couldn’t see many in the audience, but I could just make out Dante. He was leaning on the very front of the box, just as I’d imagined he would be. I smiled up at him and then allowed my fingers to do my talking for me, as I swept into piece after piece. Each one was met with thunderous applause as my fingers stilled.
Finally, thirty minutes later, I knew I had just one more to go.
‘Ladies and gentlemen… this, as I said earlier, is my first concert, however it is also my last.’ I spoke into the microphone once again and heard the clarity in my voice as I did so. ‘Music means so much to me. But my husband, family and our unborn child mean so very much more.’ I moved one hand to my still flat stomach and was convinced that I heard a chair from the box directly in front of me as it scraped unceremoniously over the floor. My mouth widened into a smile as I glanced up to see Dante standing at the edge of the box.
It felt good to surprise him.
‘This will be my final piece for the evening… Für Elise.’ A small amount of applause caused me to stop speaking. As it filtered away, I carried on, ‘I would like to dedicate it to my grandfather’.
As I played the piece, I saw as Dante left the box. When I struck the final notes of the piece I loved so very much, I stood and left to a standing ovation.
Turning towards the wing I knew he would reach first, I could see my husband waiting for me, and the thousands of others in the building faded away, until all there was, was the three of us. I crossed the stage, slowing down my step, not wanting the moment to end. Dante, looking perfect in a suit, wearing a blue tie that matched his eyes, was every woman’s wet dream, I was certain. His hair was swept back, and the scowl on his face was only matched by the way his arms were folded over his chest in anger, and I’d never wanted him as much as I did right in that minute.
At last, I reached him. My body was screaming at him to reach out and touch me, and simultaneously loving the fact he was too angry to.
‘When were you going to tell me?’ he growled, as he released his arms and placed one hand on my hip, pulling me into him with a thud. All at once my senses went into overdrive. I placed both of my hands to his chest and looked up at him, as his cologne enveloped me.
‘And give you another reason to treat me gently?’ I lifted my eyebrows at him in question. For a few seconds, all I could hear was the whoosh of my blood as it flew past my eardrums, and I broke eye contact with him.
‘How long?’
‘Three months,’ I replied, knowing instinctively he was asking how long I’d been pregnant and not told him.
‘Three months! You’ve known all that time and didn’t tell me?’
‘I want to be your wife, not someone who needs to be treated with kid gloves.’
‘You needed looking after.’
‘You’re right, I did, and you did it brilliantly—and now I don’t. I’m your wife, and I’m well enough to be treated as such.’
The atmosphere between us was electric. When Dante’s forefinger and thumb connected with my chin, it set off such a chain reaction within me, that my body awakened.
Slowly, with measured movements, he lifted my gaze to once again meet his.
‘Be careful what you wish for, amore mio,’ he warned, shaking his head a little. ‘I’ve been careful with you, up to now.’ As his eyes narrowed and the blue in his eyes seemed to ignite, my core clenched in response.
I stared back at him, with my eyes opening ever wider as I silently dared him on, and rejoiced when he silently accepted.
‘The dress you’re wearing…’
‘I hoped you’d like it.’
‘No wife of mine would wear a dress like this, unless it was for my eyes only.’
‘Not even an English one?’
‘Ah, but you’re not English, are you, Tesoro?’
‘No, I’m the wife of an Italian, and that comes with certain privileges.’
‘For you, and for me.’ I watched as his mouth twitched with a smile.
Suddenly, as music began once again on the stage behind us, he was moving. One hand wrapped around my long hair, and as he pulled my head back sharply his other hand grabbed my throat, holding me captive and forcing my eyes to stay on his. All the time he was walking us backwards, until near darkness enveloped us, and I felt something hard digging into my back, and there we stopped. His mouth crashed into mine as he kept me trapped between him and the entrance to the stage. There were no gentle kisses, no teasing, or asking permission. His tongue pushed into my mouth, and he plundered. He took, he tasted, and several times over he bit my lips as I struggled to keep up. He ground his hips against me, pushing his erection into me over and over, until I was a molten mess that was only being held up by his hold on me.
‘Consider tonight the first of the rest of our lives, Giovanna,’ he instructed as his mouth travelled down my bare neck, and his teeth sunk into the nape of it.
‘Any night with you, Dante, will always feel like my first.’ I gasped as he bit me again, causing pain and then pleasure to sweep through my body. ‘The second my eyes first rested on you; it wasn’t about you.’ I spoke again, as he sucked at my neck and marked me as his. ‘When my eyes found you, I saw all of me. There’s no coming back from that feeling, Dante.’ I shook my head slowly, ‘I know I’ll never be the same. My life will never be the same.’
Silence met my acknowledgement.
‘Giovanna Giordano, you are mine, and I am yours, in body and soul.’ His voice rang out strong and true.
‘Body and soul,’ I agreed, before his mouth came back to mine, and I was lost.
THE END