Page 93 of Wicked

Ruthless… Dangerous… Lethal.

As I notice more women looking our way, I catch Raven watching them. She looks unimpressed. Before I can pull the plug and get us away from the limelight, mafia and women, Raven raises an eyebrow. “I see you have some admirers.”

“This was your idea,” I say, holding her firmly against me and dancing slow. “And you are likely more the target.”

Just before I reach for her hand and get us the hell away, the song finishes. People clap, and I escort Raven quickly and calmlyoff the dance floor. I want us far away from the mafia, and I want it done now.

I do not want complications, and here in Italy, my money and power is diminished. No one here knows I can afford to pay for anything I want in the world.

And I will pay for anything in the worldto be done.

My family and Raven are my only priorities.

Tuscany is where my family resides, and I cannot start a war. Not here, not now.

After heading awayto get space and air, we sip fresh wines under a large tree, and we cool in the night air. As we drink, I notice a couple heading our way.

It’s not the mafia after Raven, and it’s not women after me. It’s my parents… Almost as bad.

As I sigh, Raven follows my eyes. “What?”

“My parents. I didn’t expect them,” I say.

As the elegant couple walk up, my mother leans in for a hug. “Darling!”

As always, my father shows no emotion. He has not even smiled or acknowledged Raven.

“Mother, Father, this is Raven.”

“How do you do?” my mother asks as they shake hands. My mother can likely tell she’s not Italian, as Raven’s blonde hair is almost a giveaway. My mother’s energy looks cold and calculating. I do not like it. I know she wants me to marry an Italian, as does my father.

As the old brute tilts his head conservatively, he is equally as cold. “Good evening.”

We talk awkwardly for several minutes, and my parents ask about the castle and schedule. As usual they are aloof, arrogant, and icy.

Before it gets too awkward, a nearby table is knocked over with some kind of drama and argument.

I disappear to calm things, and it’s not mafia-related or far away. Trusting Raven can hold her own for a minute, I stop the heated argument between old men, and I help upright a table. With the chaos contained, I return to Raven and my parents.

Raven’s eyes grow large, and she covers her mouth. What the heck has she said?

“Accomplishments?” my mother asks, giving my father a look. Shit!

My parents turn from Raven to me as I dust myself off.

“Dante, tell me about these businesses,” my father demands. He said it as if it’s an accusation. As if I’ve done something wrong.

Raven looks at me, and her eyes are large. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine,” I say. “It had to come out sometime.” Inhaling, I check my parents’ faces. I’m surprised they’ve not found out before, but I have tried to keep everything I do on the down low. They do not read a lot of English news online, and they do not follow what I do in my life.

“I haven’t been, as you say, galivanting around the world and burning through my trust. I started a fashion company a decade ago, in New York. I worked hard, I invested, and I expanded. I’ll tell you about it one day, but it’s nothing really.”

My father looks at me with newly formed respect. “Good work, Son! I’m…”

“Proud?” my mother asks.

“Proud,” my semi-human father says. He has never said the word in his life; I gave up expecting it when I was a child.He then warms by adding, “It would appear some of your grandfather’s business skills have rubbed off on you!”

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