Page 82 of Vengeful Vows
As expected, there’s an abundance of food and plates on the kitchen island. Pastries, fruits, a quiche, a silver bowl filled with yogurts and parfaits on ice, a jar of Nutella near the toaster and a loaf of freshly made bread.
Is it going to be a long morning?
But of course, Don Raffaele has a sweet tooth, and my aunt’s attempts to change that are a constant source of friction between the two.
She wants him to be healthy, to enjoy a long life and welcome their future grandchildren. Unfortunately he believes he’s invincible. And there is an army of people around him to make sure he is.
There’s a regular coffee maker plugged in, along with a traditional espresso maker on the stovetop.
That’s my aunt’s preferred brewing method. And when no one is looking, she sweetens hers with a jolt of syrupy cola.
Since I haven’t had any caffeine yet, I opt for an espresso, and I take a seat at the counter.
“How is Bella?” Aunt Gina asks, sliding the demitasse cup in front of me.
For weeks, we’ve been joining them for Sunday dinner. My family likes my wife, something I’m grateful for.
“Nico?” she prompts.
I hesitate. “She’s well. Thank you.”
“And you? How are you finding marriage?”
My godmother knows me well.
“You don’t look happy,” she goes on.
“Interested in the upcoming meeting.”
As she picks up her own beverage, she studies me. “This is supposed to be your honeymoon. Yet when I asked about Bella, you replied like a man who truly doesn’t know.”
Hoping to reassure her—and end the line of questioning—I force a smile. “Marriage is…an adjustment.” I’m not sure what I expected. But it wasn’t continual veiled hostilities. I assumed after a period of adjustment, things would go back to the way they’d been before she found out the truth of who I am. But if anything, she’s more distant than before.
“As long as you continue to support her and let her know how much you love her, things will be fine.”
I finish my coffee and run a finger inside my collar.Love?What the hell is that?
“It’s not always easy,” she muses. “But that’s what gets us through.”
“Yours was an arranged marriage,” I say.
“It was,” she agrees. “But we had a period of courtship, and your uncle has always gone out of his way to make me feel adored and appreciated.”
I do that for Bella.
“I know I can count on him, and no matter what, at the end of the day, we have each other and our family. Love is the glue that holds it all together. If that foundation isn’t there, Nico, the house will fall.”
Roberto’s arrival saves me from responding. Though he’s leaning heavily on his cane, he waves off assistance.
Once we’re back in the kitchen, he also accepts a cup of my aunt’s exceptional espresso.
He refuses food, though clearly he’s lost a lot of weight.
Within minutes, Matteo joins us, inviting us into the don’s study.
I excuse myself to my aunt, then, before following the men down the hall, I refresh my drink, though I’m not sure I’ll need any more caffeine.
Don Raffaele is behind his massive oak desk, and three green, leather-covered chairs are arranged in front of it in a semicircle.