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Casting my eyes quickly to the floor, I caught the light accumulation of dust that had collected on top of my shoes. It was early December, but we’d had warmer and drier weather than normal, with little to no rain having fallen.
‘Bruno, let me have your pocket square.’
Hastily, he passed me over the cream-coloured fabric, and I bent down to wipe clean my highly polished dress shoes. Just as my face became visible in the sheen, I heard the unmistakable sound of the slow roll of rubber going over the piazza cobbles. Standing up tall, I held out the dirty piece of silk for Bruno to take. Then noticing the large, silver Bentley specially imported for Serafina’s father, I moved my arms in front of me, clasped my right wrist with my left hand and waited.
The car came to a standstill and a door opened. The driver jumped out and jogged around to the boot to pull out the battery powered wheelchair I knew Alessandro was now dependant on. A few of the Giordanos’ men arrived and suddenly the car was a flurry of activity. Giordano’s wife and his now eldest son vacated the vehicle and then he was lifted out from the car and placed into his waiting chair. With my eyes firmly fixed on him, I knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he began to feel the weight of my stare, and the hate I had for him behind it.
Sure enough, as his wife fussed around him making him ready for the service, his eyes found mine. My heart rejoiced as I watched the understanding appear in his eyes. Deliberately, I widened my stance and glanced down briefly to adjust my pocket square. When I lifted my eyes to his once again, I knew I’d left him in no doubt that I was the one his precious daughter had been promised to. Momentarily, I was convinced I saw a look of fear take hold of him and I let a smile lift the corners of my mouth and spread over my face. I couldn’t hear his words, only the harsh tone he spoke in. When his wife and son turned to face me and his wife’s mouth opened in horror, I saw he’d communicated his feelings.
‘For my mama, I take your daughter.’
I identified that he could lip read when, without breaking eye contact with me, he shouted at all of those around him offering their help and assistance to keep away and to leave him alone. Then manually, he began to manoeuvre himself towards me.
Watching him struggle to move his chair over the medieval cobbles that made up the piazza floor, with his face turning redder in the warmth of the December sunshine, thawed out my insides.
‘No, Alessandro… please stop.’ His wife’s plea to his senses appeared to make no difference.
I stood my ground as slowly he struggled to bring his chair closer towards me.
‘Careful, Alessandro… you wouldn’t want a heart attack on your daughter’s wedding day.’
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ He struggled to get his words out and breathe at the same time. ‘You caused Zeno’s death. You can’t expect me to allow you to marry Serafina.’
I bent down towards the broken shell of my sworn enemy and taking hold of both his armrests, I pulled on them abruptly to close the distance between us, showing him my dominance over this and every situation that would forever more pass between us.
‘Pensa ai tuoi peccati, Alessandro…You were the catalyst in your beloved son’s death.’
‘Get away from him,’ Alessio interrupted as he came up to his father’s side.
‘I’m just having a private talk with my future father-in-law.’
‘No way… no fucking way does feccia like you get to marry Sera,’ Alessio stated.
‘Alessio, leave us,’ Alessandro demanded, as he exhaled and allowed his head to fall forward to his chest.
‘Papa!’ Alessio released his anguish at being asked to retreat. Looking up at Alessio I watched as he struggled with his father’s order and the flames of anger that had already eaten up his insides. One day, I could see he’d make a fine replacement for his father, if only he learnt how to control himself. Finally, he backed away… just a few steps, but enough to satisfy his father’s demand.
‘Explain,’ Alessandro quietly demanded.
I leant further into Giordano and spoke into his ear.
‘I’ll do better than that, I’ll tell you a story… Once upon a time, an unscrupulous man sweet talked a beautiful young girl into giving herself to him. When the father of her unborn child found out she’d slept with another man, he cast her aside. Their child was born into and lived his childhood in poverty.’
‘So?’
‘No, no, no… you mustn’t interrupt,’ I chastised. ‘Now, where was I?’ It took all I had to mask the pleasure at having Alessandro Giordano in my clutches. ‘When that boy was four, his mama was snatched from him, never to be seen again.’
‘You’re the boy,’ he stated, nodding his head, having heard the story before at the meeting.
‘I was. I am… and you, Alessandro Giordano, are the unscrupulous young man.’ I leant my head over towards him.
‘Lia Ranieri, I know. I heard you say her name that day,’ he whispered, and I had to stop myself from placing a hand on top of my heart. Hearing her name spoken on his lips after all these years, as he admitted to being with my mama, felt as though he’d slipped a thin, sharp blade into the shrivelled up organ that masqueraded as my heart.
‘Correct. I suppose I should be grateful you remember her name. I’m sure you’ve had many, many women over the years.’ Looking at him from the side I watched as colour filled his cheeks.
‘I remember her,’ he admitted. ‘It was all a long time ago,’ he offered.
‘Twenty-five years to be exact. You knew she was engaged to my father Gianni, but you wanted her. You wanted to take her away from him, just because you could.’
