Page 62 of Vendetta

I grunt. If Roman is then Eleri will be too. The trap is set. I just hope she is strong enough to survive it.

Her

Istep out of the car, ignoring the literal churning of my stomach, and take a moment to smooth out my long black satin dress. Nico picked it, he’s picked everything I’m wearing right down to the ruby at my throat and the bracelet around my wrist. It feels like a chain, a handcuff in this moment, but we both know what it’s purpose is.

Nico isn’t here. I’m alone.

Standing, no staring up at the huge building in front of me. There are pillars across the front making it look more like a temple than a home and yet that’s what this is. Nico’s family home. The Morelli House.

The sandstone glints in the sunlight and I wonder briefly how much it must have cost to have it imported but the Morelli family aren’t exactly strapped for cash and no doubt his grandfather thought it was worth the expense.

Someone steps out through the huge front doors and I let out a long, low breath to calm myself. Just do as he said, I tell myself, ‘Do everything he told me to and by the time the sun comes up tomorrow Nico will have gotten his revenge. He will have annihilated all of the men who are plotting against him.’

“Welcome.” The man says as I begin to climb the steps up, holding my dress to aid me.

“I’m…” I begin but he cuts across me.

“I know who you are. My nephew has already informed me.”

I nod. So this is Constantine Morelli. Nico’s uncle. His father’s brother. A shrewd man, a smart man, but one who was happy to take orders, not give them, if the rumours are to be believed. When Nico’s father was murdered, it was his mother who took on the other families, not Constantine, though he was there by her side, she was the one giving orders.

And when she was murdered, it was Nico who stood up, who became head of the family. And Constantine once again only had a support role.

“You are not what I expected.” Constantine says holding his hand for mine and I offer it more to be polite. He raises it to his lips, kissing as if we were in ancient times, as if I really were his queen.

“What were you expecting?” I ask. No doubt Roman has already informed them all of what I am, what I look like. How marred my face is.

He takes a moment to study me, to look at the scar and then he meets my eye. A small grin threatens to take his lips. “You are like firemio cara.” He murmurs.

I frown at the words. I don’t know Italian. I don’t speak any languages but my native tongue and in this moment I wish I did because if they all switch to it, to Italian, I’ll be sat like an idiot not understanding a word.

“The others are downstairs.” He says. “Let’s get a drink while we wait.”

I nod. He hasn’t asked where Nico is and I don’t know if he knows his plan but I’m not going to say anything.

He leads me into the house. It feels even more like a temple inside. The floors are marble, there are pillars inside too, four either side, running through the hallway drawing your eye to the very end where there’s another great door. The walls are painted with white but along the very top, far above my head is an intricate pattern that I know even from this angle is made from gold leaf.

I want to ask why the house looks like this, they’re Italian, not Greek and yet I bite my tongue, keep my questions to myself. I need to stick to the plan, play the obedient, almost docile lover until Nico arrives with his grand finale.

We walk through, our steps echoing in the space because there is nothing but hard surfaces to soak up the noise. Constantine doesn’t speak so I don’t either. His grip on my arm is firm but not hard, it’s as if he is leading me to a dance, and in a way I guess that’s what this will be, a melee of sorts, a grand opera of Nico’s creation.

We step down a winding staircase, it’s hard to walk side by side and Constantine lets me go first though in truth I’d rather follow. As we descend it feels like we’re no longer above the ground, that suddenly we’re in a cave, a subterranean expanse created far below the depths of the house.

I wait at the very bottom and Constantine smiles as he steps beside me.

Ahead is a great table. There are huge candelabras, all flickering with firelight. And in front of all twenty four, no twenty six chairs, a place has been set, with silver cutlery laid out, crystal glasses, as if we were about to sit down to a feast.

I let myself look then, I let my eye fall on the other people, the countless faces all watching me with what feels like a mix of amusement and fascination.

I don’t recognise any of them. Not that I expected too but right now I feel like I’m in the lion’s den and I’m a snake they’re about to rip to pieces.

“So this is the girl?” A woman says stepping out from the mass of suits. Everyone is dressed in their finery. There are only two other women, though both are notably older than me.

“This is Eleri.” Constantine says. “Nico’s partner.”

The woman smirks, just a little, stepping closer, taking me in. “He does have a type.” She murmurs.

“What does that mean?” I ask before I can stop myself.

---