Page 22 of Dante

“Just one minute!”

I cross over and fling the door open, nearly tripping over my heels.

“Uncle Silvio!”

“In the flesh,” he says. “And how is the dear bride tonight?”

He smells of expensive tobacco and something with a metallic bite trailing after him.

Silvio leans in to give me a kiss on each cheek.

“For your wedding, you were draped in white. Tonight, you are a vision in black. A changed woman so soon?”

He arches an eyebrow, and I feel a heat crawl up my neck that has nothing to do with the wig.

“Oh, it’s not like that. I was just shopping with Angie.”

“Angie,” he repeats, making a dismissive clicking sound with his tongue. “That girl...”

He trails off, his silence speaking volumes about what he thinks of my only friend in this city. “May I come in, or will we stand in the doorway all night?”

“Of course, Uncle. Please,” I say, leading him to the sofa. “Can I get you water, coffee? Anything to drink?”

“No, no. I just came to say hello.” Silvio takes a seat, pulling up the legs of his trousers.

He gives me a knowing smile. “My nephew must be so happy.”

I have no idea if Dante is happy or not. Especially where I am concerned.

Though I smile politely, the expression feels tight on my face.

“So glad to have met you and Dante’s brothers at the reception. I understand Dante’s mother passed long ago. But his father passed only recently. Was he like Dante?”

“No, not at all.” Silvio chuckles, though there’s a sharp edge to the sound. “Dante is his own man.”

The conversation flags, and a heavy silence settles between us.

I don’t dare introduce a new topic, but I’m curious about the true reason for his visit.

“Should I call Dante to tell him you’ve stopped by? Are you supposed to meet him?”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he says, getting up from the sofa. “And I see that you’re doing fine.”

He pauses, his eyes lingering on my new dark hair and the short dress I still wear.

“Maybe you’d like to see my casino.”

“Oh, yes!” I tell him, eager to see Dante’s place of business.

“Angie told me all about the nightlife around here today. She says Dante’s club is glamorous, but she didn’t say much about the casino.”

“That’s because she hasn’t been invited. Very few are allowed inside,” Silvio says.

“Why? Is it private?”

He nods. “It’s private, and it’s illegal.” His voice drops into a mock-serious tone that makes me laugh.

“To quote the police commissioner, it houses a ‘den of thieves.’”