on display right now. We have something to prove. I’ll be damned if anything falls through because we look less than acceptable.”
“My God, how did you live like this?” I ask, shaking my head. I haven’t been in it twenty-four hours and I’m ready to scream.
“It was all I knew, and it wasn’t that bad. Until it was life threatening, anyway.” She shakes her head. “This seems petty to you, but we’re old school. Old world. You dress up, show up, and never let them see you sweat. You wield your power with responsibility and sensitivity.”
“How is that even possible?”
“You take care of people, but never let them disrespect you. It’s a careful balance,” she answers.
“Sounds impossible,” I muse.
“At times, it would seem that way. When you get a good man in power, you want him to stay there because the next guy might be like—”
“Lorenzo?”
She flinches at the name. “Yes.”
I heave a sigh. “Fine, let’s go.”
* * *
It’s pushing midnight, and I’m trussed up in another suit, sitting in the back of a crowded Italian restaurant.
Could we get more cliché?
One of them owns a restaurant chain. They opened this one up, and people have been arriving every thirty minutes or so, since about ten. I sit to the right of Vita and act as a translator. Hugs and kisses have been given, but I know that could easily be a façade. The mood is a strange mixture of somberness and joy. What we’re about to do is nothing they take lightly. It’s in every line of their faces and the serious expressions in their eyes. We’re waiting for one more family, the Fortunas, to make the drive in from the airport. It’s clear they’re old world. From their smart outfits, to shiny shoes and chunky jewelry. I’d lost track of names ages ago. They all blurred together.
“Are you okay?” Vita asks.
I quirk an eyebrow, stunned by her concern. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
She shrugs. “It’s like a surreal dream. I never thought I’d see any of these people again, and my memories of them are old. So, those who I envision as teens are now adults and the middle-aged people, are much older. This life wears on some. It’s sad to see the ones it’s taken a toll on.”
“I can’t imagine you sleep well.”
She snorts. “Not with Lorenzo in charge.”
Rapping comes at the front door. The room grows silent. Tension mounts.
Why is this family so important?
Vita stiffens beside me. I want to ask her questions, but the flurry of motion and my stubbornness prevents me. I can’t get too invested in this girl. Once I satisfy the club’s demands, I’m gone and she’s back to being nothing more than the sister of one of my brothers.
Chairs push back and everyone stands.
I follow suit.
The crowd parts like pins pushed aside by a well-aimed bowling ball. A group of men walk in. A wiry man with a shock of white hair, rectangular spectacles, olive skin, and an old-fashioned white hat complete with a crease in the middle, seemed to be the one everyone’s attention lay on. His white linen suit with a navy blue tie is flawless along with his white loafers. Flanking him are two broad-shouldered men who favor him in the face. Their hair looks thicker, darker, and I would place them in their mid-thirties.
“Bellissima. My Elisa has returned home.” He holds out his hands.
Vita rises and walks over to him slowly. She takes his hand and gives a small curtsey.
“I understand they stole your voice that day. But I can tell by the fire in your eyes, so like your mother’s, you will not be silenced.”
Vita stood to her full height and bobbed her head in agreement.
“I understand you have a translator?” He pierces me with his shrewd brown eyes.
I feel frozen to the spot. With one look, he peered inside me and unearthed all my secrets. I walk over and bow slightly.
If he thinks I’m going to kiss the ring on his finger, he’s mistaken.
“Yes, sir, I’m Charles.” I
“My God, how did you live like this?” I ask, shaking my head. I haven’t been in it twenty-four hours and I’m ready to scream.
“It was all I knew, and it wasn’t that bad. Until it was life threatening, anyway.” She shakes her head. “This seems petty to you, but we’re old school. Old world. You dress up, show up, and never let them see you sweat. You wield your power with responsibility and sensitivity.”
“How is that even possible?”
“You take care of people, but never let them disrespect you. It’s a careful balance,” she answers.
“Sounds impossible,” I muse.
“At times, it would seem that way. When you get a good man in power, you want him to stay there because the next guy might be like—”
“Lorenzo?”
She flinches at the name. “Yes.”
I heave a sigh. “Fine, let’s go.”
* * *
It’s pushing midnight, and I’m trussed up in another suit, sitting in the back of a crowded Italian restaurant.
Could we get more cliché?
One of them owns a restaurant chain. They opened this one up, and people have been arriving every thirty minutes or so, since about ten. I sit to the right of Vita and act as a translator. Hugs and kisses have been given, but I know that could easily be a façade. The mood is a strange mixture of somberness and joy. What we’re about to do is nothing they take lightly. It’s in every line of their faces and the serious expressions in their eyes. We’re waiting for one more family, the Fortunas, to make the drive in from the airport. It’s clear they’re old world. From their smart outfits, to shiny shoes and chunky jewelry. I’d lost track of names ages ago. They all blurred together.
“Are you okay?” Vita asks.
I quirk an eyebrow, stunned by her concern. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
She shrugs. “It’s like a surreal dream. I never thought I’d see any of these people again, and my memories of them are old. So, those who I envision as teens are now adults and the middle-aged people, are much older. This life wears on some. It’s sad to see the ones it’s taken a toll on.”
“I can’t imagine you sleep well.”
She snorts. “Not with Lorenzo in charge.”
Rapping comes at the front door. The room grows silent. Tension mounts.
Why is this family so important?
Vita stiffens beside me. I want to ask her questions, but the flurry of motion and my stubbornness prevents me. I can’t get too invested in this girl. Once I satisfy the club’s demands, I’m gone and she’s back to being nothing more than the sister of one of my brothers.
Chairs push back and everyone stands.
I follow suit.
The crowd parts like pins pushed aside by a well-aimed bowling ball. A group of men walk in. A wiry man with a shock of white hair, rectangular spectacles, olive skin, and an old-fashioned white hat complete with a crease in the middle, seemed to be the one everyone’s attention lay on. His white linen suit with a navy blue tie is flawless along with his white loafers. Flanking him are two broad-shouldered men who favor him in the face. Their hair looks thicker, darker, and I would place them in their mid-thirties.
“Bellissima. My Elisa has returned home.” He holds out his hands.
Vita rises and walks over to him slowly. She takes his hand and gives a small curtsey.
“I understand they stole your voice that day. But I can tell by the fire in your eyes, so like your mother’s, you will not be silenced.”
Vita stood to her full height and bobbed her head in agreement.
“I understand you have a translator?” He pierces me with his shrewd brown eyes.
I feel frozen to the spot. With one look, he peered inside me and unearthed all my secrets. I walk over and bow slightly.
If he thinks I’m going to kiss the ring on his finger, he’s mistaken.
“Yes, sir, I’m Charles.” I
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