Page 7 of Devil's Vows
Dominic lets the woman come forward to his side, and he settles his hand on her lower back, protective, possessive, and something inside me clenches tight. This is a good man. He might be many things—for what do I really know about my brothers?—but the softness in his gaze as he looks down at her, the comfort with which she settles in the fold of his arm, tells me everything I need to know.
I’ll have to learn to trust men, and I’ll start with my brothers.
They greet Mother Lucia and then it’s all business. Letters, questions, Mother Lucia watchful with every move they make, every word he says. Dominic is tense and eager, not wanting any more delay.
“My sister?” he asks.
I’ve never been called that before, and it tightens my throat.
“She’s here,” Mother Lucia says as she picks up her old desk phone to dial nobody. She has a short conversation though, and this is my cue. Dominic, in her eyes, has passed the test.
This is it. My first step toward the future, toward my freedom.
My heart pounds so hard I feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. I take a steadying breath and side-shuffle along the narrow passage, listen at the thin door leading into the cupboard to make sure the office is empty. It should be. At this time of the morning, the sisters are at work and this office isn’t occupied. I crouch and make my way through the cupboard, stretch to loosen my limbs from sitting for hours in the confined secret room, then sneak up to the door. I open it an inch, confirm the corridor is empty, sneak out, knock briefly on Mother Lucia’s door, open it, slip in, and close the door.
Nobody saw me. I’m safe.
I look up. Dominic is standing with the woman by his side, their fingers woven in a tense grip. He blinks, confused. Why is he looking at me like this? It makes me want to take a step back, but the door behind me is closed, blocking my exit. The moment is too big, and I reach for the golden cross resting on my chest, always there to anchor me.
His gaze drops there, and I see recognition flit in his eyes. The beautiful floral pattern engraved on it, delicate and feminine. Our mom’s cross. The one I imagine she wore as she changed countless diapers, dangling over each of her sons. Ican see her babies trying to reach for it with chubby cherub hands, with her just teasing that it’s not to play with. A knot twists in my throat, but I swallow it down as he reaches out to me, disbelief washing over his face.This is real. I am real.
“I’m Dominic Scalera, your brother,” he says, stunned.
Now I get why he is staring at me like this. I look just like our mom.
He reaches out a hand to me.
I have no choice but to test his grip.
I slip my sticky, tense hand in his and give him the short perfunctory shake as our gazes lock. He has such kind eyes, and his fingers are warm but firm, comforting, confirming everything I’ve surmised already: here is a man I can trust.
“I’m ready,” I breathe, not sure where these words come from. They weren’t planned or rehearsed, but in this moment, my decision comes so easily. Mother Lucia approves and I trust her judgement. If there are six men like this, I’ll have an army of princes to protect me.
“You’re ready?” he asks, clearly taken aback.
“I’m ready,” I repeat. “To serve in the way God sees fit.”
The words of a good Catholic convent girl, but in my head, I’m fleeing a convent for the last time. I’m becoming someone else again, eager to be in another world and to understand who I really am when I’m not running.
“This is Ariana,” he says as he turns toward the woman, the love for her clear in his eyes for all to see. “My partner.”
Here’s another woman and my first ally in the world of Mafia men. I don’t hold back but step into her arms. The way she wraps me in a hug whispers to me, confirming I can go with them. That everything is going to be fine and she has my back.
“Are you sure you’re good to go?” Ariana asks as she pulls away from me. “Because we have quite the journey ahead, all the way to Lake Como.”
“Lake Como?” I know where it is, but I’ve never been. It’s not a Catholic convent hideout hotspot for girls like me.
“Stephano, one of the twins, is there with his wife, Gabi,” Dominic fills me in. “We’ll be staying there for as long as it takes to organize things. From there, we’ll call Matteo and Luca and Benedict, and you’ll get to meet everybody…all of us, your brothers.”
That’s…a lot to take in. But this is to be my new reality. So be it.
“Okay. I don’t have much.”
Mother Lucia reaches for my few belongings in her drawer and places them on the desk with a paper tote. “I’ve gathered this for you,cara. Gabriella actually ‘left’ the convent weeks ago. What with Randazzo’s death, we’ve been cautious.”
Dominic goes dead quiet, digesting this information.
“And then rumors spread that Franco Fiore took over as Don and we became even more cautious,” Mother Lucia elaborates.
