Page 16 of Single Malt Drama
Nicolina
Crossingthe Atlantic in a private jet was no big deal for me. I’d done it my entire life. However, watching Alessio and Maria’s reactions to flying for the first time made the entire experience special. I loved that I could give them a new life—a better life.
“Come, my darling. See how the rising sun looks from the air.” Alessio’s grin broadened as he slung his arm around his wife and peered out the window.
Maria gasped. “Bellissimo.”
Their affection for each other warmed me, but it also left me wanting. I could only imagine what it would be like to spend decades with the same man. To live together so long that I knew the meaning of each of his smiles. To have someone understand me so deeply that explanations weren’t necessary.
Images of Marco filled my mind. This was the first time I’d left him knowing I might never see him again, or at least not see him for a long time. The thought made me tear up.
Maria sat beside me and patted my hand. “What troubles you?”
“I was thinking about everything I left behind.” I dried my eyes and forced a smile.
She motioned between herself and her husband. “You are looking at it all wrong. Look to the future, Nico. Think of the new life you will make for yourself. Have faith in your decisions.”
“As always, you are right.”
Maria tilted her head. “There are some things from your old life you are bringing with you. Your work, me and Alessio.”
“My modeling career is over.”
“So you’ll design clothes. It is your real passion.” She grinned. “Do it under a false name.”
Dipping my chin, I said, “It’s not safe for you if I stay.”
“That may be true for us, but Marco?” She shook her head. “He is young and strong and without fear. Why not go to him? His family will protect you.”
I’d asked myself the same question a million times since I’d left him on the tarmac. “I don’t want another mafia family to protect me—”
Her eyes widened. “You never say that word out loud. And the Marchionnis are good. Look at all the things they do for the people of Comiso. They are not like the others.”
By others, I assumed she meant my family. I had my problems with them, and yes, they did bad things, but they were still my family. Sighing, I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter if the Pope canonizes every Marchionni who ever existed. I have to do this alone. I want to prove I can stand on my own two feet.”
“To who? Your father?” She made the sign of the cross. “Some people will never see you for who you are—they will only see what they want you to be.”
Isn’t that the truth. “I’ve never been on my own. Even in Paris, I had bodyguards and assistants.”
“Nicolina, sometimes the true sign of independence is knowing when to ask for help and having the grace to accept it when it’s offered.” Maria nodded toward her husband. “This life isn’t meant to be lived alone. You’ve loved Marco since you were children. You are two halves of the same soul.”
Two halves of the same soul?I couldn’t help but grin. She’d been watching too many Italian soap operas. I adored Marco, but he wasn’t the one for me. “He’s a good friend, but he likes the ladies too much to settle down.”
She rolled her eyes. “That is true of every man until the right woman grabs them by the ear and tells them how it’s going to be.”
Laughing, I asked, “Is that what you did with Alessio?”
Maria pursed her lips. “Alessio would have lived with his mother until he was too old to marry if I hadn’t come along.”
“I heard that.” He turned toward us. “Maria is right, but she is also wrong. Sharing a life with someone doesn’t make you dependent, it makes you partners. As for Marco Marchionni, he’s not good enough for you. No man is.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you had your way, I’d be locked up in a convent for the rest of my life.”
Maria turned her head, but not before I noticed she’d gone pale.
“That’s not true.” He gave me a bashful grin. “They stopped allowing families to send their rebellious women to convents many years ago.”
Maria muttered a prayer under her breath.