I know I will not get any brother of the year awards, but even I could notice that Assisi's been behaving a little strange. It all started with her missing a few dinners, and now she barely leaves her room, except to go to her lessons. Even Mrs. Evans had told me she'd found Assisi a little distracted.
"Have you tried talking to her? I can't help but wonder if it's trauma from seeing that nun like that." I say, even though Assisi had been composed throughout the entire ordeal. Maybe that worries me even more.
"I don't know. I'm a little worried about her. I've been trying to give her some time to get used to everything. It's the first time she's been out of the convent, after all. But she's been shutting us out. All of us. Even Claudia's noticed the change in her. It's like she's always locked inside her room." She sighs, and it's clear that the matter is troubling her.
"Maybe we should make an appointment with Claudia's therapist." I suggest. It's not healthy for her to close herself from the world. Maybe it's the guilty part of me that's saying that, but I want her to be happy... normal.
"If she wants. I'll try to bring it up with her, but she can be very stubborn."
"You know her best." Catalina's told me about their friendship, and I can help but be extremely grateful for her presence in Assisi's life. She truly is an angel.
"This is a lot of people." Lina groans and closes the file.
"You need to be on your guard tonight, and it's better if you can recognize everyone."
"But we only have to worry about Guerra, right?"
"I'm not so sure. We don't know who they might work with." The Guerras have always been insular. While their conflict with the DeVille family is legendary and goes back many generations, their allies have always been a little harder to peg. Generally it's whoever hates DeVille too. I'm almost afraid to entertain the notion that they might be connected with this so-called Chimera.
"Ready?" I turn towards Lina, shaking myself from my musings. Her beauty, though, blows me away. She's wearing a black classy maxi dress that clings to her body. Her hair is slightly curled at the edges, giving her an elegant vibe. She seems rather self-conscious as she nibbles at her lip and pats her dress down.
I stop in front of her and breathe her in.
I don't deserve her.
Hell, I don't deserve any of this.
But she's here, in front of me. And I can touch her.
With two fingers, I tip her jaw up and I see the apprehension in her eyes.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've seen in my life. Don't be embarrassed." Heat travels up her cheeks and gives me a timid smile.
"Thank you." She whispers.
If I have it my way, she'll be hearing that every single day for the rest of our lives. But I know deep down that I don't have that much time with her. And I'll take all I can get.
Oddly enough, the banquet is hosted at the St. Regis Hotel's ballroom. Everything about the affair points to a peaceful event, seeing that it's taking place right in the center of the city. But appearances can be deceiving.
We arrive at the hotel and are escorted towards the ballroom. There's a routine security check that we have to pass through, but then we're good to go.
We're about to enter the ballroom, when someone calls out my name.
"Marcello!" Catalina's hand tightens on my arm.
I school my features and turn to greet my uncle. This wasn't the way I wanted to see him again. I'd been in touch with my underbosses, but not with him. I'm sure he's taken offense at that, with him being the Consigliere and supposedly my right hand. I almost snort at the notion.
"Uncle," I greet him.
"Is this lovely lady your new wife?" He starts in a saccharine voice that's uncharacteristic of him.
"Yes." I respond, and tug Catalina slightly behind me, putting my body in front of her.
"Marcello," Nicolo shakes his head as if disappointed. "you didn't think to invite your family? Imagine my surprise when I find out my nephew," he pauses, "my capo got married and no one in the famiglia was invited." His criticism doesn't get past me. I'd known from the beginning that a small ceremony would raise eyebrows in the famiglia, given their penchant for extravagant weddings. But I couldn't... wouldn't subject Catalina to something like that. Not after what she'd been through. Besides, expediency had been paramount.
"It was rather sudden." I reply, closing the subject. Catalina is off limits. To everyone.
Nicolo narrows his eyes at me but doesn't comment further.
"I'm glad you could be with us tonight." He fakes a cough and walks past us.
"So that was your uncle..." Catalina frowns at his retreating figure. He's come alone tonight, it seems.
"Stay away from him. He's dangerous."
"Why?" She peers at me from beneath her eyelashes.
"He doesn't think I should be capo." I answer grimly. And because of that, I don't know what he's capable of.
"Lina!" Enzo comes at our side. He's looking immaculate as always, dressed in a white suit and a black shirt.
"Enzo." Catalina releases my arm to give him a hug.
"And your wife?" I ask, noting he's alone.
"She'll be here at some point." Enzo shrugs.
Dropping the topic, we head inside the ballroom.
There must be around fifty people inside, all of them highly ranked within the five families. Or four... I scan the room and see that DeVille hasn't shown up or sent anyone on their behalf.
"DeVille's not here."
"Did you expect them?" Enzo raises an eyebrow.
"Not really, but stranger things have happened." I remark, my eyes focusing on the crowd once more.
I zero in on Benedicto Guerra, the current capo. He's in his late forties, but still looking fit. I remember him from back in the day, but I can't say we've had many interactions. Next to him is his brother, Franco, Antonio Guerra's father. He's the one holding my attention because he's the first one who'd like retribution for his son's death.
My gaze moves further, and on each side of Benedicto are his sons, Michele and Rafaelo. I'm entirely surprised to see them calm in each other's proximity. I'd met both of them when I was younger and their enmity was palpable even them. When Francesco had updated me with relevant information about the other families, he'd noted that the brothers' feud had only amplified over the years. They are less than a year apart in age, but they have different mothers. Michele's mother died in childbirth, but she hadn't yet been cold in her grave before Benedicto wed Rafaelo's mother. That probably contributed to the conflict, though it didn't help that Benedicto wants to name Rafaelo as his heir, even though he isn't the firstborn.
"He looks like Father Guerra." I feel Catalina's slight tremble, and I tug her closer to my side.
"He can't hurt you." I tell her and she gives me a tight nod.
At our entrance, all eyes are on us. Franco's lips immediately curl in disdain, and he leans in to say something to Benedicto, who puts his hand up in a stop sign.
Maybe he will keep his brother in line.
"They definitely look surprised." Enzo remarks ironically. He turns his head and notices the Marchesis with his wife in tow. He doesn't look too pleased by that fact, and he signals to us he's going to their side.
"Easy," I whisper to Lina as we step further into the room. She's trying hard to keep her calm, plastering a fake smile on her face.
"We can do this." She takes a deep breath. Just in time for Benedicto to come greet us.
"Lastra. Heard about your brother. My condolences." He extends his hand to me. My body immediately tenses.
"Pleased to meet you, Signor Guerra." Catalina grasps his hand before I can react.
Benedicto seems surprised, but he shakes her hand.
"And you Signora Lastra. I've heard about your nuptials. Too bad it was such a small affair." He adds.
"We didn't want to involve too many people. Just friends and family. Besides, I've heard about your tragedy. Condolences for your loss." I hope my message is recei
ved. By being the first to bring up the subject, I can control the direction it will take.
"Indeed." Benedicto narrows his eyes at me, at the same time that his brother makes a go for me. Benedicto's arm shoots out, stopping France from advancing.
"We are all friends here, right fratello?" His voice is tense as he addresses his brother, and he nods. Franco's eyes are still murderous as looks at me, then at Catalina, and I know this is far from over. It's just too public right now.
"Right." Franco reluctantly agrees.
"Why don't you let your wife join the other women, and we can talk some business?" Benedicto nods towards the gaggle of women chatting at a nearby table.
I don't want Catalina anywhere out of my sight, so I try to respectfully decline.
"I'm not sure she would be comfortable."
"Bah!" Benedicto exclaims, and yells at one woman.
"Cosima, come here."
A woman in her forties joins us, sticking herself to Benedicto's side.
"What's wrong, amore?"
"Why don't you take Signora Lastra and introduce her to everyone."
Cosima narrows her eyes at Catalina, and she doesn't seem too interested. But she puts on a smile and addresses her, anyway.
"Catalina, I'm Cosima."
My wife gives me a reassuring nod and moves to go to Cosima.
"Will you be ok?" I whisper in her hair, afraid to let her go.
"I'll be fine." She answers confidently.
"You know what to do if anything happens." I remind her. We'd gone over every possibility in preparation for this evening, and I'd given her a panic button. If she felt threatened in any way, she should push the button and it will make enough noise to alert everyone in her vicinity.
Already I have to grit my teeth and let her go, but I know that we need to follow a certain etiquette.
Just as Lina leaves with Cosima, a drunk Michele stumbles towards us. He's carrying a half-empty bottle of Jack.
"Look at them love birds. He can't bear to be separated from her." He slurs and puts his hand on his father's shoulder.
Suddenly I can feel the tension in the air.
"You should take lessons, papa dear."
"Michele." His brother hisses from behind him.
"Oh, there's the retard. I have to wonder why you organized this, capo." Michele's words are full of venom. "Did you perhaps want to showcase to the world that your eldest is a drunk," he smiles sarcastically, "while your heir is a fucking retard." His emphasis on heir doesn't escape me.
"D-d-don't sss... sp..speak t-to fa...father l-like that." Rafaelo stammers as he grabs onto Michele.
"Both of you, cut it out!" Benedicto finally intervenes.
"Yes, Raf, stop talking. You'll show everyone you got dropped on your head at birth." Michele says in a mocking tone, and his brother's head is hung low in shame. Surprisingly enough, he takes the insult without as much as batting an eyelash.
"I'm s-s-sorry." He replies, and I realize he might have a stutter. That doesn't make someone a retard.
Odd, though. When I'd known them years ago, Rafaelo hadn't had a stutter. Or maybe I'm not remembering correctly.
"See," Michele laughs, and pats his brother on the shoulder. Rafaelo squares his shoulders and lowers his gaze in a submissive gesture.
"Enough!" Benedicto removes Michele's hand and bends it awkwardly.
"Afraid people might think less of you when they find out your heir is touched in the head?" He laughs in derision and extricates himself from his father's hold.
"Fucking assholes. Cazzo di merda!" Michele yells some expletives but removes himself from the situation, simply by going to the next available table and grabbing more alcohol.
"You must excuse my son. He has a problem with alcohol. You know how it is." Benedicto explains.
Franco is still shooting daggers at me, while Rafaelo has a timid, almost cowering demeanor.
I keep my expression in place, accepting his explanation, but inside I have to wonder how much of this is a show and how much of it is real.
"So, Lastra," Benedicto starts, "I've heard your last shipments were busts."
"Right." I respond skeptically. Word sure got around.
"I'm sure that together we can work something out. I've been in your position. Young capo, just starting out. You'll need all the support you can get."
Franco snorts at Benedicto's words.
"You would allow my son's murderer in our midst?" Franco spits out, but Benedicto rolls his eyes, a bored expression on his face. He makes a waving sign with his hand and gives Franco a threatening look. I don't know exactly what that's supposed to mean, but Franco immediately shuts up, not too pleased about it.
"I think you might be needed elsewhere, fratello." Benedicto says suggestively. Franco seems to hold it together, but barely. With a tight nod, he disappears, losing himself in the crowd.
"You must excuse my brother. He's still grieving."
"I can imagine." I don't know what he wants me to say. Admit guilt? I'd sooner finish Franco off than let anyone say a word against Lina.
"Now, back to our topic." He says and takes out a cigar from an inner pocket in his blazer. He lights it up and takes a few puffs. "My transport lines are entirely secure. You could easily make up for the lost revenue." He explains that he has transports twice a week, but could squeeze another one for me.
"I see. And what would that cost me?" I'm rather curious what Benedicto could possibly want in exchange. Simply because his actions are a little... suspicious. So much enmity between our families right now, and he wants a partnership? There has to be more to it.
"Bah! I'll have none of that. Consider it a gift. For better future relations." Yeah, well, I don't buy that. So I continue to probe.
"I could never in good conscience accept such a thing from you."
"If you put it like that..." He pauses and regards me, narrowing his eyes. "My son here is my heir." He tugs a still cowering Rafaelo to his side, slapping his back and making him stand straighter. "But I have still not found him a nice bride. He needs a good woman to take care of him and the house. Hard to find these days," he sighs, "with these feminist notions, all women are suddenly independent." He shakes his head in disgust and starts a tirade on how women's places should be at home taking care of their husbands and children. I'm half-listening at this point, and I note Rafaelo's tormented expression.
"I...I d-d-don't w... w-w-ant a www...ife." Rafaelo musters with great difficulty, and I feel for him.
"But you need a wife." His father remarks and moves on, disregarding his son's opinion. "I've heard about your sister." Benedicto suddenly says, and I see where this is going.
"With all due respect, but my sister is too young."
"Not that sister." He frowns. "The one who grew up in the convent." I have to carefully mask my features. How is it that he knows Assisi's no longer at Sacre Coeur? "She would be perfect for my boy. I'm sure the nuns must have instilled in her traditional values." He says with such conviction, as if he has everything figured out.
"I don't think Assisi would be ready for that anytime soon. And should she decide to marry someone in the future, I'll leave it up to her." I try to explain. I will force none of my sisters in marriages they don't want. I'd meant what I told Lina last time. It's time things changed a little within the famiglia.
"Come on, Lastra. You can't mean that!" He starts on an outraged tone, but immediately catches himself. "Of course she wouldn't be ready just yet. But why don't we let them meet and see where it goes?" He insists, and I have to wonder why exactly he's so set on a union between our families. "If they decide they suit, then who are we to stand against their happiness, right?"
The way he's phrased this has me a little backed in a corner. I can't overtly refuse him, so I just nod. "Maybe something can be arranged." It's best to be vague.
"Good. I knew you'd see reason." Benedicto nods, satisfied. But then Rafaelo starts trembling next to him.
"I..
.I..." He stutters, and I hear a trickling sound. I look closer and see that a wet spot is forming on the front of his trousers and down his leg.
Rafaelo just pissed himself.
His father notes this immediately, but he doesn't react in any way. Rather, he excuses them both, and leaves the room.
Maybe Michele was onto something... Maybe Rafaelo does have some mental issues. It's hard to associate his physical appearance with it. He's a big man, if not for his slumping shoulders and craning neck. His posture alone makes him look more like a child than an adult.
Shaking my head at what I'd just witnessed, I scan the ballroom for Catalina.
I frown.
Where is she?
I can't see her anywhere, so I check with the women she'd been with. One of them tells me she must have gone to the bathroom. But I'm not mollified.
She can't be alone. Not here, with so many out to harm her.
I immediately zone in on Enzo. He's by an alcohol station, a bored expression on his face. He's staring into the half-empty glass he's holding, while the people around him are chatting away. His wife is next to him, but she's busy talking with her father.
"Catalina's missing." I go straight to the point when I see him. I have his attention right away, and he puts down his glass.
"We need to find her." He says and we plan to cover the entire area.
"Where are you going?" His wife, Allegra, clings to his arm and pouts.
"I'm looking for my sister." His voice is tense as he tries to shake her off.
"That," Allegra's voice is full of venom as she refers to Catalina. "I'm sure she's off with someone." Before I can react, Enzo pushes her off.
He grasps her jaw in his hands, and in a callous voice he tells her, "Stop running your mouth if you want to keep this pretty face." He thrusts her backwards, and with a scowl, he signals me to get moving.
After checking every single corner of the ballroom, I feel like I'm losing my mind. Where is she? The things crossing my mind are not helping one bit.
I check the bathrooms, a few women screaming at me and calling me a pervert, but I don't care.
I need to find Catalina.
Now.
I'm hyperventilating.
Morally Blasphemous (Morally Questionable Book 2) Page 19