Page 13 of The One
Am I ready for what comes next?
Not really.
But this is the only path forward.
I’ve never left Sicily before. Father never took us anywhere, not even to visit our grandmother in Bolzano, up in the Alto Adige region.
Not that it mattered much. That part of Italy is so close to Austria that German is one of the dominant languages there, and none of us understand it.
Instead of bringing us to her, Father flies his mother to Sicily once a year. They only speak German, and it always feels like they have a secret language.
He never bothered to teach us. That would have required interest in his daughters and spending time with us.
Our grandmother never offered, either. Not that we wanted her to. We avoid her as much as possible. She’s as warm as a snowman’s handshake.
Though I’ve never seen snow. I hope I will one day.
The car slows to a stop in front of a sleek jet, its polished exterior gleaming under the setting sun.
As I step out, I pull my cardigan tighter around my body as a chilly breeze sweeps across the pavement. With the sun about to set, the temperature is dropping.
Still, I don’t rush to get inside the plane, instead taking my time to admire the sheer size and elegance of the aircraft.
‘Corporazione De Marco’is printed in large letters on the plane, along with the De Marco crest, a laurel wreath with a fierce-looking lion in its center.
Il leone,that’s what Gualtiero De Marco is known as everywhere, every Don oflafamigliais.
Wow, I’ll be flying in their private jet.
A flutter of nerves bubbles in my stomach. The thought of being airborne, soaring above the clouds, and leaving all the drama in Sicily behind is exhilarating.
I’m excited about going to Rome. Isa and I have always wanted to see the ancient sites and visit Via dei Condotti, the prestigious shopping street with all the big designers.
Isa dreams of shopping at Gucci, Prada, and Valentino, while I just want to study their designs, learn how they cut high-end fabric, and see how they combine colors and textures, even if I could only admire them through the windows.
Will I get a chance to do that? What am I expected to do all day?
Am I going to work in Mateo De Marco’s household now? How long am I staying? Will Father come for me? Will Renaldo?
A myriad of questions swirls in my mind, and I’m not sure how to get answers. But it all has to become clear, right?
I have no money, and technically no phone. Having been cooped up at the Accardi estate, I never had a need for either.
I pat my small handbag, making sure the phone Isa gave me is still safely tucked inside. Knowing I’m able to talk to her eases some of the tension that’s curled tight in my body. At least I’ve got that.
With that comforting thought, I take a step toward the jet, toward an entirely new future.
Before I can get too far, another car pulls up beside the plane.
Mateo De Marco steps out, buttoning up his suit jacket and running his hand through his disheveled hair. With a beaming smile, he turns to whoever is still inside.
God, that smile!
It could turn the most stoic of nuns into a hedonist. And if his smile doesn’t do it, then his fine ass definitely would. I can’t tear my eyes off it. Who knew it was possible suit pants could fit so perfectly?
I catch a glimpse of long blonde hair as Mateo bends lower, leaning into the car to kiss the woman it belongs to.
Consuming jealousy bubbles up inside me, leaving a burning sensation in my chest. I hug my arms around my front as I watch his open and casual display of affection.
