Page 305 of Niccolo

Thank God she wasn’t angry about the impromptu ceremony in Sicily…

Or she at least didn’t let on.

We landed midafternoon at Leonardo da Vinci International Airport, about 16 miles from the heart of Rome.

There were quite a few of us onboard.

Dario and Alessandra…

Adriano and Bianca…

Massimo and Lucia…

Lars and Rachel…

Roberto and Mei-ling…

Valentino and Caterina…

Me…

The Widow…

Plus ten of our best foot soldiers.

Twenty-four people in all.

It was quite an entourage –

And we were met with an equally impressive number of bulletproof limousines outside the hangar.

Don Severino stood amongst a collection of his own sharply dressed foot soldiers. As we walked across the tarmac, he smiled, flung his arms open wide, and said,“Benvenuti a Roma.”

Welcome to Rome.

Don Severino was about 55 years old and powerfully built, with a tan, craggy face. He bore a strong resemblance to the British actor Ian McShane.

His black beard was streaked with grey, and his salt-and-pepper hair was longer than usual for a man of his age. If he weren’t dressed in the finest Armani, he could have easily passed for an aging ruffian in a dive bar.

“Are we sure this is safe?” Adriano muttered angrily.

Even though we were still 50 feet away from him, it was as though Don Severino had overheard.

“The safety of every single one of you is guaranteed by me personally during your stay in Rome,” Don Severino said in a booming voice. “There will be no tolerance for violence of any kind against you – orbyyou, against any other person.”

He was warning us not to try to kill Fausto, or there would be hell to pay.

I was sure Fausto would get the same speech –

Though I doubted our uncle would heed it.

Severino strolled forward to meet Dario and the Widow, both of whom headed up our procession. Dario walked arm-in-arm with Alessandra, and they were flanked on either side by some of our best foot soldiers.

Severino took the Widow’s hand and bent over it, kissing her fingers. “Ah, DonnaFioretti, you grow lovelier every time I see you.”

He used the proper term for the female leader of a mafia family –Donna –as a formal address.

The old lady scoffed. “And your flattery grows more outlandish every time I seeyou,Don Severino.”