Page 49 of Mending Our Chance

27 Felicity

Later that night, I showed up at my aunt’s empty apartment to find the men were already waiting for me before the locked door. The Signore had a bottle of the finest Oloroso in his left hand while the other gesticulated wildly, yet perfectly choreographed to his speech. Salivating at the sight of the wine, I thought with derision, Nothing but the best for this clan. The careful nods from my brothers told me that the Signore was issuing orders about their other businesses, and I was bold enough to know that it was too soon for him to take a dislike to my company. Besides, if I had my way, he wouldn’t find disapproval with his newest investment.

“As requested,” I said in greeting, dangling the key to the flat my aunt had occupied. “And just so you know: If the twins hadn’t begged me, I wouldn’t be wasting my time over here, Babbo.”

As I had explained ad nauseam in text messages to the twins, there was nothing left in the apartment. In fact, it was going to have new renters in the weeks ahead.

I unlocked the door and swung it open. The chemical smell of fresh paint permeated the hall. When I had grabbed the keys from the super, I had been told to remove my shoes because new carpeting had been laid.

“Shoes off,” I snapped. Surprisingly, they all obeyed without protest.

The Signore went to the kitchen and set the bottle of wine on the counter. Those thick fingers snapped with impatience. Matteo and Alonzo were whispering and staring at the walls.

I let out a groan of frustration. “There is nothing inside the walls, you two.”

However, they ignored me and jumped to their father’s command. Matteo set a case on the counter top and opened it for the Signore. The good son then proceeded to take out four glasses and a wine opener. I was surprised he didn’t have a decanter, but clearly we wouldn’t be here long enough to require one. When the wine had been poured, the first glass was presented to me. It would have been alcohol abuse to throw it in the Signore’s face. Besides, my feelings were torn, and I wasn’t sure he deserved the insult. Yet, I wasn’t my father’s biggest fan given recent events. So, I accepted the glass, swirled the contents around, took a sip, and nodded to my father.

The Signore mirrored me, closing his eyes in appreciation for the fine vintage. “It is the little things in life, daughter-mine.”

I ground my teeth. My emotions were through the roof. I didn’t want him here, invading the space that my aunt had spent the last days of her life occupying. But yet, I wasn’t happy with her either. I hoped that her ghost would find me so that I could yell at it.

“You were so insistent to be here. Why?” I asked my father as I tapped my forefinger on the glass.

“Can’t we enjoy a bottle of wine together before business as usual?”

“I suppose,” I muttered. “But it would be nice to know the point of all this.”

He slammed his glass onto the counter top; it must have been shatter proof. I could see that I had struck a fuse in the Signore.

“Fine. You want answers so damn bad? You should be careful what you wish for.”

The Signore then walked to the freshly painted wall, looked it up and down from floor to ceiling and then tapped. The wall sprang open, marring the beautiful new paint. I stifled a gasp and watched as the twins went to grab the documents and fire proof safes that were hidden in the wall.

“I should have spoken up and helped Gianna when she first married,” the Signore continued, grabbing some papers from the top of the pile Alonzo was carrying. “I didn’t and the man abused her. When he died, I always wondered what Gianna was capable of doing to those who crossed her.”

“What the hell?” Tipping my stemmed glass back, I gulped the rest of my wine. In desperate need of a buzz, I was not savoring it as I should and it felt like alcohol abuse. I gasped for air when all the nutty, dark red liquid had slid down my throat.

My father’s dark, beady eyes were calculating as he looked over the papers. He shuffled them around, searching for something. Amazement kept me quiet as I watched the twins compile the papers next to their full glasses. Maybe the Signore isn’t the monster, I thought. I’m clearly capable of being blinded to the truth.

Finally, the Signore handed me a letter. “Those who disappointed Gianna were met with her wrath, Felìcita. I don’t tell you these things to smear her name, but only to enlighten you to the whole situation.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw that Matteo had uncapped a small bottle of paint and Alonzo was sealing the panel back in place. They had probably bribed the painting company for the color codes—these boys were nothing if not thorough. In their world, they had to be.

My father was waiting for me to read the document. I quit stalling. Focusing on the paper in my hand, the faded letters on the newspaper clippings swam into focus. The glass dropped from my hand, shattering on the floor. The toxicology report read certain words that I was unfortunately familiar with given my fascination as a child with the Count of Monte Cristo and other crime novels. I knew that Gianna had been in league with Toby, but from the way I read the police report and the news clippings, I was drawing unthinkable conclusions. I had been disowned instead, and Gianna didn’t have the outcome she had gambled for! This was the end result of the attempted blackmail of my father over my all too brief marriage. My thoughts trailed off, too scared to formulate what was staring in front of me. It was quite possible that Gianna had eliminated the threat. It was the words ‘poisoned’ that I kept fixating on.

“Ah fuck, sis.” Matteo stooped before me, dabbing at the drops of spilt wine. “Now we have to clean up the carpet before we leave.”

Ignoring him, I slammed the paper on to the counter top in front of the Signore. “Babbo, why wouldn’t you tell me?” I demanded hoarsely. “They said it was an accident at a vegan restaurant, and yet there was proof it could have been poison!”

“Would you have listened?” His calm tone was in sharp contrast to my stormy outburst. “Things fell into place as they would. I knew Gianna would never physically hurt you. She was too much of a coward. She also knew what would befall her if she did. Besides, you were her ticket to get at me.”

Crooking a finger at the twins, Argento took a sip of his wine as he walked to a kitchen cabinet. Pulling out the same tricks as before, he opened a secret panel. I recoiled. There were bottles in there, with labels written in the old language. I might not be a chemist, but I knew enough from the old stories to know what was inside them.

“Gianna was a talented asset to my grandmother when we first came here. She had to forge a footing in this country—we all did.” Argento stepped back and let Alonzo sweep the contents into a black leather bag. Then, motioning for my brothers to continue, Argento told the boys, “Ragazzi, there is jewelry in her bedroom. Go see if it’s still there. If it’s gone, she sold it already. It will be a pity if she has, because some of those pieces were family heirlooms.”

The wine in the Signore’s glass was slowly reaching the bottom as he sipped and contemplated my face. I schooled my features so I did not give away what I was thinking. While my face might be neutral, my mind was in a hot debate as to what I wanted to do with this news, and what I wanted to do with the past. It was clear that this man had hurt me, but he had never stopped loving me.

When Matteo returned, he sheepishly admitted that they couldn’t find a panel. My father murmured a dramatic string of words in the old language, then they left me in the kitchen with the evidence of my aunt’s nefarious nature to see if the gems were still here.

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