“How was your day?” I asked.
“You just sucked my balls, jerked me off, made yourself come and you’re asking me how my day was?”
I started to laugh. It was rather surreal I guessed. “I’ll tell you later,” he said.
We dressed and went down for dinner. Something smelled delicious as I headed to the kitchen to see if any help was needed. Elvira and Evelyn were working side by side, chatting away in Italian. It made me smile but gave me a kick in the stomach at the same time. I remembered the day I’d worked side by side with Sofia, she’d chatted away in Italian as we prepared lunch. In all the drama that had occurred after the bombing, I don’t think I’d really grieved for her, and just seeing those two women preparing dinner brought me down to earth with a bump.
“Are you okay?” Evelyn asked.
I hadn’t realised that my hand had covered my mouth and my eyes had filled with tears.
“I’m sorry, I just saw you both and it reminded me of the day I cooked with Sofia.”
“Did she tell you off? I bet you couldn’t do a thing correct,” Elvira asked with a smile.
“Yes and no,” I replied with a chuckle.
“She was a wonderful woman and the villagers will miss her dearly. It doesn’t matter when a person leaves, how long they’ve been gone, when they come home, the village rejoices.”
“That’s a wonderful thing to do,” I said.
“Now, take some wine to your husband, and I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”
Elvira handed me two glasses and a carafe of red. I left them and made my way to the terrace. Scott and Sam were sitting, playing cards with the boys in the living room. I felt guilty I hadn’t spent enough time with Gerry but he seemed to love being with Sam so much, he waved me away when I asked if they wanted another player.
Robert, Travis and Katrina joined me a little later. I poured the wine after fetching two more glasses.
“Good day?” Travis asked.
Robert nodded. “Interesting, talk later.”
Katrina looked at me, her brow only slightly furrowed and I wondered briefly if she’d had Botox. I smiled back; she’d need to get used to their cryptic conversations.
“I found out today that Travis cooks,” I said.
“Tell me she’s lying, bro,” Robert answered.
Travis laughed. “Once. I cooked once.”
“Evelyn has invited herself, and us, to dinner when we get back,” I said.
“And he will cook a fabulous meal, won’t you, honey?” Katrina teased.
“We’ll see,” he replied.
Under his breath, I heard Robert say, “Pussy whipped.”
“You’re very alpha, Robert,” Katrina said.
Was she challenging him? That would be dangerous, I thought.
“And that’s what keeps this family safe,” he replied.
“So it’s a choice?”
“No, it’s who I am. Now, shall we head in for dinner,” he said.
As we rose, I noticed Travis dip his head and whisper in her ear. I hoped it was a warning not to analyse Robert. She had a lot to learn. Where Robert was concerned, there were no equals—not even me—in his family. It had taken me five years to accept that. He respected me, he loved me unconditionally, but for him to keep me safe, keep my child safe, he had to rule.
Robert expected everyone to do as he said, and that was something Katrina would need to get used to. The minute she married into our family, she was no longer the independent professional who could come and go as she pleased. I liked her—a lot—but if her actions or inability to conform put our family in danger, she’d be gone, and Travis would make that happen. Robert, Travis, the guys, their level of loyalty to each other went beyond friends, colleagues; it was a fundamental desire to survive. Break that loyalty, betray, and the result was death.
Dinner was a raucous affair. We chatted and laughed as Sam regaled everyone with stories from our childhood, stories everyone except Katrina had heard many times. The more wine he drank, the more dramatic he became. His arm waving was epic and poor Scott was forever moving glasses and dishes to save them from being swiped to the floor.
The boys enjoyed themselves and ate everything put in front of them. The veal was succulent and they tucked into figs; food they wouldn’t normally eat at home.
When dinner was over, Robert gave Travis a slight nod of his head and both rose from their chairs. Katrina made to stand as well.
“Why don’t we clear this away then get the boys to bed?” I said to her.
Robert gave me a sly wink.
Evelyn, Katrina and I cleared the table, Sam and Scott headed to their room. Sam, bless him, had consumed a little too much wine, although he told us it was the heat that had him swaying and slurring his words.
“Does Robert do a lot of business in Rome?” Katrina asked as we stacked the dishwasher.
“He does business all over the place,” Evelyn answered.
She was fishing for information and I smiled. I had been in the exact same place once, I could sympathise.
“One thing to learn, Katrina. Leave them to do their business, it’s not our concern. Robert nor Travis will never discuss every aspect of what they do with you, and it’s not personal, it’s just their way.”
We continued to tidy up in silence.
****
I stood on the balcony outside the bedroom looking out over the beauty that was Italy below me. The night sky was clear again and full of stars and a few lights shone from properties in the village. I could hear a tinkle of laughter float up from the square as the villagers prepared for the following days funeral. The wake would be held in the square and I could see a stack of tables waiting to be set up.
I felt him long before I heard him. Two arms wrapped around me and I leaned back and rested on his chest. He kissed my shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“You know. She has a lot to learn, educate her. I don’t need her probing, yet I want their relationship to work, for Travis’ sake.”
I nodded my head. “I love this place,” I said.
“There’s something magical about it, for sure.”
“Can I ask one thing? Whatever your business is with Rocco, don’t put yourself in danger.”
“You’ve no need to worry about that. He’s looking to step down and wants to hand over some of his interests to me.”
“Can he step down?”
“Yes, he has a successor and he has a plan.”
As we stood, a shooting star blazed across the sky. Robert was right; there was something magical about Italy.
That night he made love to me. He was gentle, tender and took his time. After, he wrapped me in his arms.
“Did I tell you today how much I loved you?” he whispered.
“No, but you can if you want.”
“More than life itself.”
Chapter Twenty-One
I woke early, long before the rest of the house. It was quiet save for the birds chattering in the trees outside. The sun was already high in the sky; it was going to be a hot day. I looked over to Robert. He was lying on his back with one arm thrown above his head.
Using my finger, I traced the contours of his face, the broken nose and his full lips. He opened his eyes. Black eyes stared back at me and I smiled. I remembered back to when I’d first seen those eyes and how scary I thought he was at the time. To an outsider, he looked soulless.
“You know, before I knew your name I called you Damien.”
“Damien?”
“Yeah, the kid from The Omen films,” I said with a chuckle.
“Never seen them but I know what you mean. These eyes have served me well over the years.”
“We need to get up,” I said.
“If you look under the sheet, you’ll see I already am,” he replied with a smirk.
“You’re getting cornier as you get older.”
“Did you say hornier? I’ll agree w
ith that.”
He laughed as he rolled out of bed and strode, cock proud, to the shower. I resisted the urge to join him, opting to throw on my sundress and wake Gerry instead.
“Hey, baby, time to wake up,” I said as I gently shook his arm.
“Aw, do I have to?” he said sleepily.
“Yep, we have a long day today.”
With a grumble he rolled from his bed and stretched. “Take a shower while I get your clothes ready, okay?” I said.
I laid out a pair of black linen trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt for him. When he was done with his shower, I dried his hair making a mental note to have it cut when we returned home and smothered him in sunblock before he dressed. He sat at the dressing table applying his own gel to his hair; that was not something I was allowed to do. Gerry had a thing for mohicans and he spent way too long styling his hair to a perfect spike.
When he was done, I left him to go downstairs with Robert while I showered and dressed. I decided to pin my hair up, because it was too warm to have it down. I’d bought a fitted halter neck black dress from Taylor’s store that draped to mid-calf. When I’d shown Robert, he thought it very Sofia Lauren. It was classic in its design and appropriate for that day. I selected a light cotton black cardigan to cover my shoulders while in the church and made my way downstairs.
Evelyn was ready and in battle with Elvira on who could prepare breakfast the fastest. Gary and Dan were sat at the table, although they wouldn’t join us for dinner at all, breakfast was a time they caught up with Robert. Sam waltzed through the door looking like someone from the cover of Vogue. His shades were covering his eyes and his jacket was slung over his shoulder.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?” Gerry asked.
“Hay fever, Gerry.”
I chuckled. Travis, Katrina, and Harley soon joined us, and I’d watched as he held her hand while they walked across the courtyard.
Vinny strode into the kitchen holding a metal case, similar to a briefcase but slightly larger. Robert stood when he saw him and nodded to Travis who in turn beckoned Gary and Dan. They left the room and headed across the hall to the office. I looked at Evelyn. I knew what that case would hold; we had similar ones in the gunroom at home.
We sat and ate, and when the guys returned, I stared at Robert. He winked before devouring a sweet bread roll with his coffee.
“The cars are ready,” Vinny said.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I wasn’t sure where that had come from though. Was it the fact I knew my husband was now carrying a gun or that we were going to a funeral? Despite his irritation, I grabbed hold of Gerry’s hand.
“You stay with me, okay?” I said.
As he walked past, Robert placed his hand on the back of my neck. He pulled my head close to his.
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” he whispered.
“You’re taking a gun to a funeral,” I replied.
“Yes, as are many others. You’re safe, it’s just a precaution.”
Vinny held open the car door. Gerry slid across the back seat to his usual place by the window, I climbed in after him then Robert followed. Once everyone was in their respective cars, we headed down the drive.
The service was scheduled for the morning, before it got too hot, followed by lunch in the square. The villagers would then retire for a siesta before gathering together in the evening for a celebration of Sofia’s life.
The cars didn’t head to the church but to the square instead; a crowd had already gathered. As we pulled to a stop, two men came forwards. Robert exited the car first; he shook hands, was pulled into an embrace and kissed on his cheeks.
“Let me introduce my wife and son,” he said in Italian as we joined him.
We were soon surrounded by people; each either shook our hands or embraced us. I could make out one or two words but not enough to follow the conversation. Robert translated when he could but what I gathered was that the entire village was welcoming him. I heard Joe’s name mentioned a lot and the word son. Travis was shown the same respect, but it was when Evelyn joined us that the women of the village came forward. Many hugged her, there were tears and tissues were being passed around.
A black hearse made its way slowly into the square. Franco, a very elderly woman, Elvira and a few others followed on foot behind. The car slowed to a halt. Franco walked over to us. He looked broken; his shoulders were hunched in a too large jacket. He hugged Evelyn first before Robert and me.
“It’s time,” he said as he straightened himself.
The car moved down the hill and we walked behind in silence. I held Gerry’s hand and Robert held mine. The hearse stopped outside the church doors where a priest stood in full cassock carrying a bible. An altar boy stood to his side. He was reciting something in Latin, I guessed, as the coffin was lifted from the car and carried into the church.
Inside blocking the aisles were two men who directed mourners. One assisted Franco and the elderly woman—who I was informed was Sofia’s sister—to the front pew. The other placed a hand on Robert’s arm and indicated we should follow. We were shown to the front pew across the aisle from Franco. I was both honoured and sad to be sat where we were. We were viewed as family.
The service was long and Gerry shuffled about on the hard wooden seat. It was when the soulful tones of a female echoed through the church as she sung Ava Maria that I gave in to the tears that had threatened to fall. Robert took my hand in his and Evelyn offered me a tissue. With the service over, the priest, followed by six men carrying the coffin, walked back up the aisle. We stood and filed in behind. It was a short walk to the cemetery. Evelyn hesitated at the gates, her eyes filled with tears and I took her arm. She looked so sad as she took a deep breath and continued to walk. However, her gaze shifted to a wall in the opposite direction.
I closed my eyes against more tears. I knew what she was looking at. Rocco’s ‘body’ was in that wall alongside his mother.
Sofia wasn’t placed into the ground but instead into what was basically a hole in a wall. While the priest spoke, I read the inscriptions around her—all shared her maiden name. It was her family’s wall. I thought of her, of the time we’d stood side-by-side and she’d scolded me for not making bruschetta to her exact standard. I thought of the time she’d called me the beautiful one, of the time she’d convinced herself I was Northern Italian. I thought of all the letters we’d sent back and forth and recipes I used regularly.
As the sun beat down, as the priest’s words faded because I’d tuned out, I closed my eyes and prayed for her soul.
With the burial over, we slowly made our way to the square. Long wooden tables were laid out and we were encouraged to sit with Franco. I was informed that it was not usual for an Italian funeral to end with a wake but Franco was anything but traditional. He wanted a celebration of his wife’s life with her family and friends in the one place she called home.
Dish upon dish of stews, pasta, meats and fish were placed on the table. Carafes of wine were passed around and we toasted her. As we ate, two black cars drove slowly passed, and with their blacked out windows, it was hard to know who occupied them. They came to a halt, and I watched Franco stand and raise his glass. After a moment or two, the cars drove on. I looked at Robert who shook his head.
With the meal eaten, we left to head back to the villa. We’d meet again later that evening in the square to continue the celebration of life.
“Why don’t you get changed, have a swim before a nap,” I said to Gerry as we walked into the villa.
I welcomed the cool of the marble floors and the wooden shutters closed to keep the heat out. He ran to his room, shouting to Harley to meet him by the pool. I slipped off my shoes and headed to my own bedroom. I felt emotionally drained. I unzipped my dress, letting it fall to the floor and lay on the bed.
“You okay?” I heard as Robert came through the bedroom door.
“Sure. Tired.”
He shrugged off his suit jacket and I saw the leather holster that was strapped over his shoulder. He removed it and laid it on the dressing table. He unbuttoned his shirt, removed his trousers and replaced them with board shorts. His toned and already tanned body stirred me. I looked at my initials tattooed on his chest; they moved as he flexed his body.
“You should get Gerry’s name next to mine,” I said.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
“We’ll get matching tattoos.”
He walked over to me, leaned down and gave me a brief kiss. “Sleep,” he said.
I didn’t sleep. The noise of the boys shrieking with laughter kept me awake. I just lay on the bed with my eyes shut and rested. Before long, it was time to get ready again.
****
As the sun set we made our way back to the square. Instead of the black dress, I wore a red one. Franco wanted colour, he wanted joy, and for us to have fun. We parked the cars by the cemetery and walked the rest of the way. Children were running around, trailing balloons or kicking balls. One, about the same age as Gerry, approached. He smiled and spoke; I didn’t understand.
“He wants to know if Gerry can play soccer with him,” Robert translated.
“Can I mom?”
“I don’t think…”
“He will be fine, Brooke. I can promise you that,” Franco said as he walked towards us.
It was with a little hesitation that I let go of his hand, and he called out to Harley to join them.
“They won’t go far. That boy is my great nephew, or is it great-great nephew. There are so many of them, I lose count,” Franco added with a sad chuckle.
I watched him look around. “I won’t return to America, Robert. My home is where my Sofia is. I’ll leave everything up to you as discussed.”
“Of course,” Robert replied.
“It’s funny how life changes, isn’t it? What you were and what you’re about to become,” he shook his head but smiled.
Fallen Angel, Part 4 - A Mafia Romance: Fallen Angel Series Page 25