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“Wow, calm down.”
“Say. It. Again.” I spoke through my teeth. “Say Grazia is a whore.”
“No, no, I never…”
“Have fun with her? You think she’s like those easy women that keep you company?” The more I thought about it, the redder my view became. “She’s a mafia princess and will be my queen. I won’t let anyone offend her, not even you.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Don’t talk about Grazia.”
“She’s yours. None of my business. Got it.” I let him go and he arranged his clothes. “I was just trying to look out for you.”
“Grazia is none negotiable.”
“Are you willing to die for her?”
“I am.”
“That’s what scares me. Come on, let’s go home. You have to find a ring for that blue diamond.”
He was right. I needed a band to fit the stone and I needed it soon because there wouldn’t be long until I’d go and take what was mine. I’ve put up with this situation long enough, it was about time I start correcting it.
Chapter 3
Miss Rosa Mariano-Vitale was in great shape today. At her honorable age of seventy-three, she afforded to be as eccentric as she wanted, so the fuchsia dress, the sharp red nails, and the bejeweled cane were part of her daily appearance. When I was younger, she scared me into practicing more by threatening to use that cane on myderriereand turn it red. It was very efficient. Miss Rosa was an amazing prim-ballerina back in her day and only returned to Italy after she retired from stage. She became my teacher six years ago, and no one had taught me more than she did. It wasn’t just ballet that she passed on to me, but stage presence and industry secrets too; everything from how to behave at an audition to how to properly take care of my pointe shoes. Tough, but always with my best interest in mind, Rosa Mariano-Vitale had made me a dancer.
We were in the studio for almost five hours, but Miss Rosa didn’t give any sign that the lesson was over, so I kept moving to the rhythmic thumps of her cane.
“Chin up, Grazia.”
“Yes,Madame.”
“I want you to go from a perfectarabesqueto agrand-jetefollowed bypas debourree. Go.” She kept beating the rhythm and I did the moves, flowing across the floor. “Ok, and pirouette.”
I turned, and I turned, and I turned effortlessly. My feet were hurting, probably bleeding too, but after fifteen years of ballet, you learn to mute the pain and just go on. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt my legs from knee down and today was no different.
I didn’t care about the pain one bit as long as I was getting to dance. I didn’t even need music, just an open hardwood floor and the freedom to move the way my body was made to. It came with such relief, such calmness. My dancing was part of my soul – of my being – and every time I was spinning like this, in what seemed to be an endless pirouette, I was happy. I really need this today.
Nine days, that’s how long it’s been since I last saw Salvatore. In all my years of being alive, I’ve never went nine days without seeing his piercing eyes. I missed looking at his green irises, sprinkled with gold freckles, but it had to be done. He called, and I kept blowing him off, telling him about how busy I was and how Daddy wanted me around more. It worked because for a while now, my phone was silent. There were no more missed calls and no new voice messages asking if I’m ok. He had finally given up.
I did my best to not think about it – about him – at all, but it was damn hard. Salvatore Fiori was not someone people just forgot. He was a warrior god with dark hair and killer abs who was a beast in bed. Trust me, if there was an easy way to forget Salvatore, I would have found it by now.
“Good, Grazia. You were glorious today. My best student.” She came and placed one finger under my chin, gently, as if she was touching a crystal ornament. “Your pirouettes are always so beautiful.”
“All due respect,Madame, I’m your only student.”
“Now you are, but I helped model hundreds of talented ballerinas back in my day. You are amongst the best I’ve seen.”
“Thank you.” I said, humbled.
“Have you decided yet?”
“What,Madame?”
“What you’re going to do with this incredible talent of yours? After you’ve graduated high school, have you thought about Joffrey School?”
“For a while, yes, but I can’t fly across the ocean for school. I can’t be that far from my family.” It was true. Miss Rosa couldn’t understand, but my bond with Italy went beyond blood. Here I was home, it was my safe haven. Here, I was the daughter of aDon, but out there, I was an easy target. Also, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Salvatore behind. “La Scala, maybe.”
