Page 6 of Reign Of Triumph
We raise our glasses, and Nero puts his arm around my shoulder. “Welcome home.”
Four
Mother’s Approval
Serafina
My mother informs me that Nero is coming over for a visit with his wife, Felicia, this evening. Felicia is one of the loveliest people I’ve ever met. We had our first conversation at a women’s luncheon, and with so many women vying for her attention, our conversation was brief. Still, she was kind and seemed sincere about wanting to get to know me and was patient while listening to my mother ramble about her cookie recipes.
This is the first time Felicia is coming to our home, and my mother is going a little nutty. She’s changed her outfit three times and has made an emergency hair appointment. She hasn’t been this excited in a long time, and I love seeing her happy. Mom fusses in the kitchen, rearranging the cookie tray again. It’s ridiculous the amount of food we’ve prepared for four people, and just for coffee. We’ve got a fruit tray, assorted cheeses, and a variety of deli meats and olives. Then we also have the sweets platter. I love baking, and these are all my treats. Raspberry bars, mini chocolate cake bites, amaretto cookies, mini peach tarts, and homemade chocolate truffles. The truffles are my latest obsession. I’ll never be a chocolatier, but I must admit they turned out pretty good.
“Are you sure Felicia said seven thirty?” Mom asks, looking at the clock on the wall for the hundredth time. It’s two minutes to the time, and my mother is getting antsy.
“Mom, calm down. This isn’t the first time you’ve entertained,” I tease. “Marco and Gloria have been here plenty of times.”
“That was when your father was alive.” Mom sighs. “Times were so much simpler then. Your father always knew what to do. He took care of us.” She clasps her hands around the locket she wears with Dad’s picture inside. There are times when I see her open the locket and have a chat with Dad as if he’s still with us. There’s no time limit for grieving, and I don’t think my mother will ever get over my father’s death. Dad did look after us. He protected us from the ugliness of the world. Mom was his queen, and I was his princess. He did his best to keep Mafia business out of our home. Giusto was his pride and joy, but they butted heads more often than not.
Giusto is impatient and wants instant gratification. He’s been this way since I can remember. He’s still the same now. When Dad was around, he was able to fix Giusto’s mistakes and turn them into a learning opportunity. After Dad’s death, Giusto inherited Dad’s title of underboss, but he stopped learning the lessons that a leader needs to know to be effective. Giusto wasn’t ready to be an underboss, but out of respect for my father, Marco allowed it. My brother has been impossible ever since he was given power.
I’d like to blame it on youth and lack of direction, but I can’t. Giusto has grumbled many times that Marco sends Nero or Luciano to look over his shoulder to keep tabs on him. Giusto hates it and makes it known that he’s not happy. What’s worse is the way he treats his wife and girls. Bianca does her best to avoid her husband and walks on eggshells anytime he’s home. I can’t remember the last time Giusto showed any kind of affection to his daughters. He’s upset that he doesn’t have a son and has gone so far as to tell the girls that they’re useless to him.
I think Dad thought Giusto would grow out of this phase, but he only became more self-centered.
It almost killed my father when Giusto was accused of raping Miranda Palloma. Giusto denies it to this very day. I was too young to remember much of what happened, but I remember Miranda’s brother vowing to get justice. It was horrible. My mother cried, and my father became a recluse because his illness was so far along and he knew he was dying. I spent most of my time in my room because I knew Dad was leaving me, and he was my hero.
After Dad’s death, our lives fell apart. Giusto took over the business side of things, and he rarely came home. I thought that when he married Bianca, things would get better. Bianca’s adorable, and before my brother doused her flame, she was happy and full of life.
How did things get so messed up? I’ll never understand.
“Dad may not be here, but we are, and we’re going to make sure that Nero and Felicia have a wonderful time,” I tell her. Mom smiles brightly, and right on cue, the doorbell sounds. “I’ll get it,” I announce, giving Mom a moment to compose herself.
My heels click on the tiles as I hurry along to open the front door.
Eros
Serafina swings open the door and is stunned into silence when she sees that Nero and Felicia are not alone. The last time I saw Serafina in person, she was just a young girl. She’s definitely not a child any longer. She’s a stunning woman. Her long, flowing dark hair trails past her shoulders and down her back, her large almond-shaped brown eyes gaze at me with curiosity, and her sultry lips are slightly parted in surprise.
Felicia is the first to break the silence. “Serafina, it’s so good to see you again. Can we come in?” she asks, jolting Serafina out of her stupor.
“My apologies.” She moves aside. “Please come in.”
“I hope you don’t mind that we brought Eros with us,” Nero says, glancing over at me. “We thought this would be a good opportunity to have the two of you meet.”
Serafina’s mother has raised her well because she immediately replies, “We’re delighted to have you join us, Mr. Palloma.” I take it one step further, stretching out my hand for her to take. Her hand trembles as it fits into mine.
“Please call me Eros,” I say, our eyes locked.
Her lips part, and she begins to speak, but is interrupted as an older woman who resembles Serafina comes to join us. Her hair is much shorter, reaching just under her chin in a chic silver bob, and her eyes are much like Serafina’s, perhaps a shade lighter than her daughter’s dark brown.
“You shouldn’t keep our guests in the hall, Serafina.” Vera Candida has changed since I last saw her. She was once a very self-assured, happy woman. Vera is still a lovely older woman, but she walks much more slowly and seems shyer and more reserved. However, she remembers me. “Eros,” she says with a gasp.
“Mrs. Candida, I hope you don’t mind that I came along this evening. I’d like to have a moment with you alone, if you don’t mind, of course.” I keep my tone soft and soothing, but her eyes hold concern. “I promise that you may be pleasantly surprised by my visit,” I add, giving my best grin.
Vera returns a weak smile, but when I hold out my arm for her to slip hers through, she graciously accepts. Vera looks to Nero, who gives her a nod and a smile. “Let’s go into Egidio’s office. We will have privacy,” she says.
I look over my shoulder and see that Serafina is clearly concerned, but Felicia quickly steps in and takes her into the room adjoining the hall, speaking quietly in her ear, with Nero right behind them. Vera opens the door to her late husband’s office. It’s neat and tidy, without a speck of dust. She’s maintained this room as if Egidio is still with us. Photos of the family adorn the walls, with a family portrait over the fireplace. It’s a very old picture. Egidio was in the prime of his life, standing tall and very proud of his young family. Vera is by his side, her arm linked with his, looking adoringly up at her husband, who holds their daughter in his arms. The little girl is wearing a frilly pink dress and has rosy cheeks. She leans into her father, resting on his shoulder. Giusto is completely uninterested in posing for the photo, but what boy wants to sit still when they’d rather be playing? He was a cute kid and had more of his father’s olive complexion and larger bone structure.
Even as a toddler, it was clear that Serafina was going to be a beauty. She’s a dainty little thing, and it’s obvious from the picture that she loved her daddy.
