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‘She couldn’t do any better than me,’ Enzo answered, looking more than angered at my question.
‘This is true.’ Vincenzo defended his son and slapped a hand on his shoulder.
My grandfather shot me a quick look that effectively silenced the argument I was about to start as I fought hard to make sure Serafina didn’t marry him.
What the fuck?
I never took risks.
I stuck to the plan.
Yet here I was, about to show my hand, and the worst of it was I knew it was because of her. Understanding my weakness, within seconds I’d demanded my traitorous mind and body to stand the fuck down. Rapidly, I closed my eyes and cleared my vision of the red blur that had threatened to consume my every word and action.
‘Don Ferraro, can I offer you my opinion?’ My grandfather respectfully asked. Vincenzo nodded his head at him, and my namesake continued. ‘At the end of the day, the ultimate decision lies with you, Vincenzo... It’s good of you, Enzo, to consider this. But truthfully, I’m not sure how this would look to the other families. Taking her as your bride, would join your families together by blood. It would show your acceptance and maybe even convince soldiers like Conti that you don’t care about his only child being stolen. It could signify that family to us means nothing.’ I admired how eloquently he put over his point of view.
Trying to appear relaxed, when in truth molten lava had filled my veins, I reached over for another tomato and popped it into my mouth. I bit into it, imagining I was crushing the head of the red-faced Enzo between my hands, before swallowing the flavoursome fruit and at the same time I glanced around the room watching as his words hit home.
‘Where else do we turn? It’s a shame, but we can’t yet cast them out entirely.’ Gianni spoke before crossing the room to pour himself a drink. I watched as he emptied the tumbler of liquid he’d just poured straight down his neck, with a slight tremble to his hand. I allowed a small smile to curl at the corners of my mouth. I’d noticed he’d been drinking more and more since my arrival back into his family.
‘Well, we already have a business alliance with them,’ I answered.
‘What are you suggesting?’ Enzo raised his voice as he spoke, exposing the desperation that was simmering below his sweaty looking features. I turned my head slowly to face his implied accusation. ‘No, don’t answer that, but answer this instead.’ Enzo waved one hand in the air and jabbed his finger in my direction. ‘Just how close are your two families?’ He raised his voice to add emphasis and leant forward to drive his charge home. The movement made his expansive gut stretch the expensive shirt he was wearing. His obvious distress at possibly not getting Serafina to himself and to get her to spread her legs for him was pitiful. ‘Maybe we should be looking closer at your family for Zeno Giordano’s boss.’
‘Enzo, enough,’ the Don demanded.
‘Don Ferraro, it was an alliance that you decided was good for the future of our family.’ My grandfather opened his arms up wide to signify with his hands that he meant the Don’s wider family, ‘And we only ever followed your express orders.’ He directed his answer at Vincenzo, who thoughtfully pinched his bottom lip together with his thumb and forefinger, before reaching out to place a hand on his son’s thigh and nodding once to my grandfather.
‘Of course… you’re right, Salvatore.’ He looked at my grandfather with respect and turned his head towards my father. ‘Gianni.’ Vincenzo called out my father’s name. ‘I believe we need to keep the Giordanos close… which one of your sons would make a suitable match for this girl?’
‘My sons?’ Gianni placed the empty tumbler back down onto the silver tray in front of him with a shaky hand, before he turned around to face the room. Noticing that everyone had their eyes focussed solely on him, I leant back into the chair and took in just how ill at ease he looked. Despite being an unwanted bastard, I got on well with my half-siblings, especially my baby sister, Giovanna, but I was aware that my stepmother hated me even more than it seemed my father did. I could only imagine her vitriol when Gianni returned today and told her one of her beloved sons had to marry a Giordano.
Then, just when I felt I was more in control of the situation, jealousy swept through me as I envisaged me watching Serafina walking down to breakfast on the arm of my only brother old enough to marry, Romeo. My insides began to burn with the thought of having to stand by and watch his hands on her body, and his mouth where mine was meant to be.
There was no fucking way that was happening. Very deliberately, I shifted my weight in the chair attracting Gianni’s attention. I caught his eye with my own and raised one eyebrow, as I silently challenged him.
Thinking he’d thought of the idea all by himself, he cleared his throat and answered with absolute clarity. ‘My eldest, Salvatore.’
‘Salvatore, what do you say?’ Vincenzo questioned, moving his gaze back to me.
‘Don Ferraro, I will accept… on one condition,’ I replied, as all eyes came back around to rest on me.
‘And that is?’
‘I only want Giordano to know you’ve found her a suitable match; my name doesn’t need to be mentioned.’
‘Why?’ my father questioned.
‘Because he’s a bastard, Gianni… with her brother’s blood on his hands and he wouldn’t want her jumping off the cliff their villa’s built on, rather than marry him.’ Enzo answered for me and began to laugh loudly at his own words. Only because I knew I’d never do it again, I raised my glass of grappa to him in mock salute.
The men in the room laughed at his words.
‘Your condition is accepted.’ The Don nodded his head and raised his own glass at me, while I swallowed down my enthusiasm.
Little bird, you’re all mine.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SERAFINA
