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“No! But—” Valentina stammered.
“Silenzioso figlia!” Gianni slammed his hand on the desk and commanded silence from his daughter. Then he turned his attention back to his scarlet-faced namesake. “My patience is growing thin, niece. Did this man or did this man notprendete il vostro viginity?
“Uncle Gianni I can safely promise you that Riker Devlin didnottake my virginity,” Gia told him with complete confidence.
Gianni looked at his niece long and hard before he responded sardonically, “No, I suspect not.”
Then he reached into his desk drawer and pushed a thin envelope across the table.
“In here you will find a first-class direct route ticket to Milan. You leave for the airport in an hour. I suggest you go pack.”
“But school doesn’t begin for a month!” Gia protested.
“And you will spend that month in the family villa preparing yourself.” Gianni paused as though it pained him to continue. “And Gia, you are correct on one thing. You are a no longer a child, and from this point on, you will face the consequences of your actions. We will not have a conversation like this again. The next time you do something to purposefully put yourself in a situation that compromises the integrity, reputation, and safety of yourself or that of my daughter, you will beripudiato dalla famiglia.”
Both girls paled to white. Gia shot Valentina a pleading look.
“Papa, please tell Gia you are speaking out of anger and that you would never disown her.” Valentina softly entreated her father.
Gianni looked from one girl to the other, then he leaned across the table and pointed a long finger at his niece.
“Your mother, my sister, told the doctor to give you to me the moment you were born—she wanted me to be the first to hold you. When I held out my arms to receive you, it was a symbol that I would always take care of you. Since that moment, you and Valentina have been my heart. But you must never mistake that love for weakness. I will not tolerate even one more display of your childish antics.”
“Doessheknow? Did you tell my mother about this, Uncle Gianni?” Gia choked out, sounding every bit like the child that she wasn’t.
“Fortunately for you, I have no more desire to deal with your mother on this matter than you do.” Gianni sighed and rubbed his temples. “Now, go pack. Sal is waiting to drive you to the airport.”
With that, both girls turned and looked to where Salvatore and Pauli, two of Gianni’s oldest friends and most trusted advisors, sat in silence.
Uncle Sal and Uncle Pauli—the brains and the brawn.
Salavatore Tettorio was tall, lean, and quiet. With his dark, narrow eyes, long, straight nose, shoe polish black hair, and pencil thin mustache, Valentina had always thought that he had the look about him of a villainous magician. All that was missing to complete that image was a top hat and a cloak. However, his personality belied his sinister looks because in actuality, Uncle Sal was mild-mannered, intelligent, and soft-spoken. He was always smartly dressed, impeccably groomed, and carried tiny little breath mints in his pocket that he used to sneak to Valentina during Sunday Mass when she was a little girl.
A graduate of Stanford University, he had degrees in finance and accounting. Uncle Sal handled all La Familia’s business accounts—The Brains.
“Uncle Sal doesn’t have to take me. I can order a car or take a cab.” Gia stuttered out in apologetic embarrassment. Because really, playing chauffeur to her was far beneath his expected duties.
“It will be my pleasure, Gia. Now please, let’s be on our way before you miss your flight.” Sal’s tone was polite, firm, and one they knew well. It was the tone that said a decision had been made and that decision was final and irrevocable.
The cousins gave each other a baleful look and a long hug before Sal escorted Gia out the door.
Valentina sat silently chewing the bottom of her lip and waited.
Her father exhaled a long, suffering breath. Then he reached again into his desk, but this time brought out an ornately engraved silver case. Gianni sprang the release and selected a smooth Italiansigarette. He tapped the unfiltered cigarette twice on the table, lit up, drew deep, and regarded his daughter through a curl of smoke. Then he sighed, “When I held you responsible for Gia’s actions all those years ago, I didn’t realize that you would take it as a life-long sentence.”
“This is not Gia’s fault. I’m responsible for my own actions, Papa.” Valentina sat taller in her seat.
“Which is why I often find your choices to be so disappointing,” Gianni told her. Then he took another deep drag and looked at her with eyes that were filled with deep concern. “Are you alright now? I know the effects of these episodes linger for a while. The doctor told me that this one was particularly bad.”
So much for doctor-patient confidentiality.Valentina grimaced inwardly but when she looked at her father, the strain and fatigue on his face was evident. In his custom suit and crisp white shirt, Gianni didn’t look a day over fifty. But his eyes looked care-worn and tired, which meant thathewas tired and that gave Valentina more than a pang of guilt.
“Valentina?” Her father’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“I’m okay, Papa. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine once Uncle Pauli and I get back into our routine.” She turned to Pauli who remained sitting quietly waiting for her father’s orders and gave him a small smile.
Pauli Marscone was a second cousin on his father’s side. As children, Audrina, Gianni, and Pauli ran through the narrow streets of Catanzaro side by side. When President Kennedy had opened America’s golden gates to immigrants, their families had boarded theChristopher Columbustogether and sailed across the ocean blue to begin a new life in the land of opportunity. Pauli stood about 5 feet 6 inches and weighed a solid two hundred sixty pounds. His fists were the size of small hams; he cracked walnuts with his knuckles. Pauli was never seen without at least three heavy gold chains around his thick neck, and his preferred mode of dress was assorted styles of 80’s track suits. He was fearless, bold, and the only man who could make Aunt Audrina laugh. One time, Valentina had caught him sneaking a kiss from her on the stairwell. The only thing that Valentina had ever seen Pauli read was a racing form—he wasThe Brawn.
“Your Uncle Pauli won’t be driving you any longer,” Gianni told her.
