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Meeting Alessandra for the first time was an interesting experience.
Well… speaking to her for the first time, that is. I suppose I’d already met her back at the café.
If you can call looking into a person’s eyes after you’ve killed a man ‘meeting someone.’
When Alessandra walked into the parlor and saw me, she was absolutely terrified – and understandably so.
“Lars, for God’s sake, get away from her!” Niccolo yelled at me theatrically. “You’re scaring the life out of the poor thing!”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I told her gently, but my words had no effect whatsoever on the panic in her face.
Again, understandably so.
“I said get away from her, not talk to her!” Niccolo shouted.
Man, he was really hamming it up.
I walked over and stood with Adriano and Massimo as we watched the show commence.
Niccolo was a born actor; he more or less handled the good cop/bad cop routine all by himself. He was by turns charming and solicitous – bella this and bella that – then pivoted on a dime to being vaguely threatening and sinister.
I knew from my training sessions that he wasn’t the best at handling a gun – but he was a fucking great interrogator, I’d give him that.
Alessandra was easy quarry, though – just about the most innocent young woman you could imagine. She hadn’t even drunk liquor before, which was evident when she started coughing after Niccolo gave her some brandy.
And she kept staring at me the entire time, like she thought I was going to whip out a machinegun and execute her on the spot.
The other guys just watched in silence, occasionally offering a comment or two, but it was Niccolo’s show.
Dario’s role in the production was… interesting.
He initially chose to remain behind his desk, all regal and intimidating.
When he finally spoke, though, it was to warn everyone in the room not to bother Alessandra. He even rebuked Valentino for a fairly innocuous remark.
“Alessandra is our guest. No one is to touch her. Understood?”
Valentino looked a bit blindsided. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Don’t say it to me – say it to her,” Dario said darkly.
His tone even sent a shiver down my spine.
Valentino was certainly spooked by Dario’s manner, and he apologized immediately. “Sorry, signorina. I meant no disrespect.”
I might have chalked up Dario’s behavior to making Alessandra feel safe… reassuring her that no one would hurt her…
But it didn’t feel like that.
It felt more like Dario was staking a claim.
Declaring she was his.
Later, after Massimo had escorted her out of the parlor and up to her bedroom, Dario and Niccolo started discussing the tiny scraps of intel they’d gleaned from her comments.
I leaned over to Adriano and whispered, “That whole ‘no one is to touch her’ stuff – what was that all about?”
I asked Adriano specifically because I knew he wouldn’t bullshit me. Every other brother might joke about it or be deferential to Dario – but not Adriano. If he was pissed about something, he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it.
