In the course of the weeks that follow, I’ve discovered that the Viales have their own set of rules. Rule number one with the Viales, they marry within three to six months of their engagement. This has my mother in an absolute tizzy. The dress, flowers, venues, menu, and let’s not forget the most important part, the cost has my mother stressing. One night, I hear my parents talking. My father insists that he can make it work. I hate that they have to worry about money, especially when it’s about me. Papa finally has the restaurant turning a healthy profit, but it’s taken many years of hard work. My parents insisted on paying for my education and just finished paying back the loan.
I hate asking, but feel compelled to make the call. My watch says eleven thirty at night, and even though this could wait until morning, I won’t sleep a wink until it’s resolved.
A gravelly, sleepy voice comes through the receiver. “Hello.”
“Dante, sorry to call so late.” I hear the shuffle of bedsheets and begin thinking about what Dante has on under those sheets.
“Elena? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing and everything.”
“What on earth are you talking about? It’s a little late for riddles.”
“Can we wait until next September for the wedding?” I ask hopefully.
“This is worth a call at midnight?”
“Eleven thirty,” I correct him.
“Really! You think it wise to rile me?” His tone turns impatient.
“Look, Papa is going to go into debt for this kind of elaborate wedding. I know he won’t scale it down because you are who you are and I’m his only daughter. We could push it back, or we can elope.” My parents would totally hate it, but it’s better than having them take on more debt.
“We are not eloping like two thieves in the night. I’ll pay for the wedding. I had every intention of doing that anyway.”
“Papa won’t let you do that. He’s a proud man. You of all people should know that.”
“Fine. Then he’d better hire more staff, because he’s going to become the busiest restaurant and caterer in town.”
“How—”
“Does it matter? Your father wants to pay, and I’ll make it so he has enough for the wedding and to retire too, if he chooses. We’re getting married this September on the twenty-fourth, as planned. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Uh, yeah, of course. And…um…thank you.” It’s a lame response, I know. But I can’t think of anything else.
“Go to sleep, fragolina. I’ll take care of everything,” he says softly, and waits for me to ring off.
Not a week later, I learn all about rule number two. Family is everything. It includes Dante’s brothers, their wives, his niece and nephew, and Leo and his family, which includes his widowed father-in-law, and my family. Anna made sure to invite all of us to Sunday night dinner. Elio and Zano seem the most uncomfortable at first, but all the men gather around and begin talking shop, and soon they’re all relaxed, and I even hear them laughing a few times.
“Have you thought of who to ask for your bridal party?” Olivia asks, circling back to the wedding. I know this is a big deal for all of Nostra Casa. The biggest affair in a very long time, and Reno wants it done up right.
“Well, there’s the two of you,” I tease with a giggle.
“We wouldn’t be offended if you chose friends or family,” Anna tells me.
“You are family. And I’m honestly not close to many friends from school. Most have moved on and taken jobs in other places. I’d like to ask Beatrice. We’re growing very close, and she’s such a sweetie.”
“Then ask her,” Olivia presses.
“You know the situation. I’m not sure Dante would be open to that.”
“He won’t care,” Olivia insists.
“I’m not so sure.” True, Dante arranged for Matteo and Beatrice to be together, but there’s still the concern over what others will say.
“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” Olivia says, and calls out to Dante. “Do you have any objections to Beatrice being in the wedding party?”
“Don’t care,” he yells back. His nephew leaps on top on him, and they wrestle playfully on the carpeted floor, while his niece laughs at the two of them. “As long as these little guys have a place in it, I’m good.” When Reno’s mini look-alike finally lets Dante up, Simona cuddles close to her Zio Dante and plops herself on his lap.
As soon as Simona’s daddy comes into the room, she pushes up off her uncle and nestles close to her father, wrapping an arm around his leg. She waits patiently for Reno to take her hand and lead her to his armchair, where he places her on his knees. He murmurs something softly, and the little girl beams up at her father like he’s better than a chocolate sundae with hot fudge and sprinkles on a hot summer’s day.
My mom oohs and ahhs when she sees the display of cuteness in front of her. Anna gives a grin of contentment, and Olivia gets gushy and weepy, which is completely out of character for her. Olivia scans the room for her husband, who is idly gabbing with my brothers.
Sebastian must feel his wife’s eyes on him because he looks over his shoulder at her. “I need a moment with my wife.” He excuses himself and guides Olivia out onto the balcony.
Just as Anna announces that dinner is ready, we hear a shout coming from the balcony. Dante and Reno yank open the door to find Sebastian lifting his wife off her feet in a passionate embrace.
“What the hell—uh, heck! You scared the shi—uh, sugar out of us,” Dante says, remembering the little ears, who have been mimicking everything they hear. They’re going to hear much worse as they grow older. I agree it’s best to let them be kids for as long as possible.
“We’re pregnant,” Sebastian shouts. He puts his wife down and pulls Olivia tightly to his side. Reno nudges them both inside, where a bevy of congratulations are given, hugs are exchanged, and the three brothers look happier than I’ve ever seen them.
Yes, family means everything to the Viale clan.
I find out about rule number three when Dante decides to add on to the cottage. The Viale men believe that a promise is sacred. Don’t make a promise unless you intend to keep it. Breaching a commitment is the fastest way to lose their respect.
That’s a tough lesson for the company Dante entrusted with renovating the cottage. One night after dinner, Dante takes me to my soon-to-be home. I have no idea why they call it a cottage, since it’s bigger than most homes I’ve been in. It’s beautifully designed, and the kitchen is sublime. My mother would die a happy woman cooking in this kitchen.
“What kind of changes would you like to make?” he asks as he shows me around.
“Pardon?”
“I want you to feel comfortable here. Make it your own. Anything you want changed, we’ll get it done.”
“This place is perfect as it is. I wouldn’t change a thing,” I tell him honestly. I take a closer look around and see fine pieces of art, but few pictures. I mean, family pictures, to make a house a home. “I’d add some family photos. But I love the colors and the design.”
“I’m having an addition put on. It’ll be a private room for you. You can make it an office or reading room or whatever. Go to town decorating it as you want. The only place that’s off-limits is my office.” He leads me to a room that has wall-to-wall screens, servers, and electronics that I wouldn’t even know what to do with. You can barely see the desk with all the equipment packed on top of it.
“How can you possibly make sense of this stuff?”
“I know what it all is and what it does. This makes sense to me, and I need you to leave it as it is.”
“Of course.”
Not long after the construction was started on the new room, I visited Anna after a dress fitting and decided to say hello to Dante when I was told he was home. With Matteo by my side, we knocked on the door, but found it ajar. Quickly, Matteo darted in front of me and kept me behind him. We could hear Dante’s stern voice from where we were standing, and another man who was trying desperately to explain.
“I was trying to save on costs and give you a better price,” the man said.
“Did I ask for savings? You promised me everything would be completed by the end of next week. This is nowhere near done,” Dante growled.
“I know, but—”
“Did I tell you to spare no expense?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing?”
I made it all the way to the room they were working on. I saw Dante raising and dropping his hand in obvious frustration. He then took a menacing step toward the man wearing a tool belt. Instinctively, I moved to deescalate the situation, only to have Matteo haul me back with an arm around my waist and a hand over my mouth. He took me right out of the cottage and told me it was best that I stay out of it. His serious expression told me it might be a good idea that I heed his warning.
Later that night, Dante came to the restaurant with his brothers for dinner. His hand was bandaged, but I knew better than to ask. I later found out that the room was finished ahead of schedule.
It’s hard to get a handle on how to approach Dante. I know he has sweetness in him, but he is also capable of great violence.
* * *
Dante
“Should I be aware of any other Viale rules?” Elena asks as we take a walk on the path along her mother’s garden. To one side are flowers, and on the other is a vegetable garden. Her mother is adamant about having the best produce to create her magical dishes. Dario gave her the most beautiful garden he could.
“Viale rules?” I repeat.
“Yeah. I figured out what I consider the top three so far, but it would be faster if you just give me a list.”
“All right. I’ll play. What rules have you discovered?”
“Rule one.” She holds up her index finger. “All Viales marry within three to six months after getting engaged.”
Elena’s referring to our late-night talk about removing the financial burden from her father. Yeah, I did that. Dario’s restaurant, Luna Bella, is the hottest spot in town, and I’ve spread the word to make it so. Also, anyone who’s anyone is using their catering service for special events. Dario told me the other night that he’s more than doubled his staff.
“Why put off what is our destiny? It seems like a waste of time,” I explain. “Go on, tell me another rule.”
We stop at a white wrought-iron bench, and she holds up two fingers. “Rule number two: family is everything.”
I can’t dispute that. Nostra Casa, nostra fortuna. “You know our creed,” I point out.
“It’s more than that. Your brother, Anna, Olivia, the kids, they’re everything to you all. I’ve never seen Sebastian as happy as I did the other night when he announced he was going to be a dad. It’s about Nostra Casa, but it’s so much more,” she says with passion in her voice. She’s beautiful when she gets this excited. Her thick, luscious hair bounces around her face, and her eyes light up.
“Do you know about my father?” I ask. I don’t want to dim her light, but she might as well know it all.
“Bits and pieces. Papa doesn’t talk about him very much, only to say that after Reno became capo, Nostra Casa flourished.”
“My father was a disgusting, narcissistic monster.” I pause and take a seat next to her. Mostly everyone knows what my father was. It’s all common knowledge, well, most of it, that is. Most people feared him. That was how he ruled. “My father turned his back on all of us. My mother took us away to save Sebastian and me. She raised us until she died. After she was gone, we were basically homeless. Reno didn’t even know we existed. He had no idea he even had brothers. If it weren’t for a man with a heart of gold, Sebastian and I would be dead.
“Risk raised us as his own family. He made sure we went to school and that our bellies were full, and he did the one thing we can never repay. He found Reno. At first, Reno didn’t believe him, but Risk proved it.” I know that look. It’s pity. I’ve seen it before, and I hate it when it’s directed at me. “Do not pity me,” I demand. “I don’t regret a minute with Risk. As a matter of fact, I wanted to stay with him. We had a good life with Risk, and I didn’t want that to change. It was Sebastian who wanted to get to know Reno. I went along with it because Sebastian and I made a vow that where one goes, so does the other. Here we are, in Nostra Casa, and our father tried to play us against each other.” My fragolina gasps, but I say, “It gets worse.”
“Worse? How could it get worse?”
“Very few are aware of what I’m about to tell you, and I swear, one word to anyone and I’ll lose my mind.” I wait for her nod, showing that she understands. “Our father and Reno’s first wife were having an affair, and they were planning to poison him. I caught wind of it, found proof, and together with Sebastian, we approached Reno to tell him what we found. Reno was going to confront them, but they were in an accident that killed them both. No great loss to us,” I finish. I spare her the gritty details about the accident. That’s something that stays between Reno, Sebastian, Leo, and me. We’ll carry it to our graves. I often wonder if Reno’s told Anna, but I doubt it.
“I can’t believe a father would do that to his own son. I-I’m at a loss.” She shakes her head, clearly trying to wrap her mind around what I’ve told her.
“Now you know why my brothers and our families, as well as Nostra Casa, are our lives,” I conclude.
“Then they’ll be mine too,” she states firmly.
We sit quietly for a few minutes, and I remember that she never told me about the third rule. “What’s the last rule?”
“Always keep your promises,” she replies with a grin.
I wonder where this is coming from. “I believe we should. Don’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, we should.” There’s something in her tone that says there’s more to this than meets the eye. She doesn’t say anything further, and I decide to let it go for now. Perhaps I’ll ask Matteo about it later. He may have some insight.
* * *
When I leave her home that night, I reflect on the rules she’s made up. It’s adorable she makes the rules about family, perseverance, and dedication.
Here’s the cold hard truth about the Viale men. We marry quickly because we know what we want, and we get it. Family is everything. Touch one of us or our family, and you will bleed. It will be a slow painful death, and I will enjoy watching you suffer.
The last one makes me chuckle. Keeping promises. Fuck yeah! Lie to me and pay. Betray me and die. Elena’s naïve view is refreshing, whether she truly thinks this or only chooses to believe that we’re the good guys.
Most Mafia women pretend their husbands are businessmen. Their husbands come home at the end of the workday, and their wives ask, “How was your day?” The husbands respond with “Fine,” and they move on with the rest of the evening like nothing happened.
Anna and Olivia are well aware of who and what we are. Anna’s never been fool enough to close her eyes to the truth. Olivia understands because she was used to exact revenge against La Famiglia and has firsthand knowledge of the ruthless men we deal with daily.
It’s for her own protection that Elena will have to see the real dangers that she’ll have to be aware of. The attack on the restaurant was child’s play compared to some of the destruction our enemies have caused.
As I drive up to my place, I make a quick call to Matteo.
“Yes, sir,” he answers on the first ring.
“Anything I should know?”
“It’s all in the report I left for you. If you recall, you were busy acquiring information about the Red Dragons and asked me to write it out in detail,” he replies. I remember him coming to me. I asked if it could wait, and he said he’d handled it and would leave a report. I haven’t had time to go through it yet.
“Give me the short version.”
“You were having it out with the contractor. Miss Ciello overheard and was coming to the rescue. I guided her outside and back to the main house. I explained that you would deal with it.”
“She didn’t see anything?” The last thing I want to do is have to explain myself, mainly because I won’t. Now I get why Elena mentioned keeping promises.
“No, sir. She seems good.”
“Anything else?”
“Miss Ciello and Beatrice have become quite close, but nothing out of the ordinary. Renata’s called several times, and I’ll just say that Miss Ciello is too forgiving.”
“Right.” I sigh. “Get some sleep.”
Being so forgiving is the one thing Elena has in common with Cara. Cara seems like a distant memory now. The pang in my chest isn’t there anymore. It disappeared the day I met Elena. All the little details about Cara seem blurred.
As clear as crystal is Elena’s addictive smile, and that mole on the corner of her mouth. Or the way her long vibrant red tresses blow in the gentle breeze. But it’s her touch, a simple caress, that has me going insane. It takes all the willpower I have not to haul her into my arms and kiss those delectable full rosy lips that I dream about every night.
Maybe I’ll make that rule number four: kissing is mandatory.