Malavita (12 page)

He stood there for a moment listening to the dial tone. What else did he expect? She was angry. She had every right to be.

Hers was another life Carlo had ruined. Nico’s too. Enrico slammed the receiver back into its cradle. If he was going to have any hope of a normal life again, if he was ever going to see his son on a regular basis, Carlo Andretti had to be stopped.

Preferably dead.

Four days had passed since the incident at school, and Enrico still hadn’t called her. Should she call him?

Antonella paced around the room. She shouldn’t have to call him, yes? He should be calling her. He’d been in the wrong, and it was time he made some effort… Though he
had
made an effort, hadn’t he? He’d come to school to pick her up and he’d tried to help. Maybe he even had, despite her grumbling, since Arturo and his cronies had stayed away from her since then.

Bottom line: Enrico had made an effort, and she’d chided him for it. And then she’d left with Dario.

And she’d dared to accuse Enrico of sending mixed signals!

It was time to swallow her pride once again.

Sitting on the bed, she smoothed out her skirt and touched her hair, then laughed. It wasn’t like Enrico would be able to see her. She picked up the handset and placed the call, her heart pounding.
Dio
, she should be over these foolish nerves. The formal engagement party was in a week and a half. And here she was, with her parched mouth, clammy palms, and skittering pulse at the thought of calling the man she would be marrying soon.

It wasn’t normal.

Then again, nothing about the situation was. Sure, ’Ndrangheta families married off sons and daughters to cement alliances or settle feuds all the time. It was a common practice in Calabria.

But a strange one in the north. If they were in Calabria, her classmates would understand why she was getting married without having to be told. Here, she’d get only blank looks or cries of amazement. So she’d told no one other than Ilaria, whose father was part of the Andretti
cosca
. Ilaria understood, and Ilaria was her maid of honor by default.

And Ilaria would be her only classmate, her only friend, to see Antonella make the step into marriage, into adulthood.

The rest of her classmates… Well, they’d never understand it. Why she was marrying at sixteen with no baby on the way. To a boy who’d never taken any notice of her before.

There’d be some questions, questions she’d have no idea how to answer…

The ringing of the phone stopped and someone picked up the line. The maid. Again. Apparently Enrico and his father were deaf to the telephone. She asked for Enrico and ignored the knowing lilt in the maid’s voice as she told Antonella to wait.

Dio mio
, the maid must think her a fool with no pride—

“Yes?” Enrico snapped, his voice crisp and cutting.

“I hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d better call. To make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

“I don’t have time to play games with you. Or the patience.”

He couldn’t have shocked her more if he’d slapped her in the face. “I’m not playing games. You sound upset. I want to know why. And to help, if I can.”

He let out a snort. “Remember how you didn’t want my help? Well I don’t want yours, either.”

“Rico—”

“You can’t help with this, Antonella.”

“I don’t even know what’s wrong yet.”

“Trust me. I need to work through this on my own.” His voice seethed with irritation.

Was he grieving his family still? Had the upcoming wedding and the hoopla surrounding it opened old wounds?

“I know this has to be difficult. I keep thinking of our wedding as a happy occasion, but I know it might not be the same for you.”

A frustrated growl filled the line. “You are the queen of understatement. The bloody queen.”

“I—I’m sorry. This is all coming out wrong—”

“Just stop. Just stop and leave me alone. I don’t need
you
trying to console me.”

Tears filled her vision. She was hurt, yes, but so was he. Far more so. And
she
was the cause. She wanted to tell him, to just blurt it out, but that was impossible. Though she could do one thing. “I’ll leave you alone then. But I wanted to thank you. You were right about Arturo. He hasn’t bothered me.” She paused, and when Enrico said nothing, she added, “
Mille
grazie
.”

“I’ve got to go,” he said and hung up the phone.

The droning of the dial tone unleashed the tears she’d been holding back, and she sobbed aloud.

The wedding hadn’t even taken place, yet her marriage was already a disaster.

Once she’d dried her tears, Antonella had called Ilaria and arranged to meet her in downtown Cernobbio.

The day was beautiful and bright, with a light breeze rustling the leaves of the trees and kicking up waves that slapped the shoreline beside the promenade.

Antonella wore sunglasses to hide her swollen eyes, but Ilaria wasn’t fooled. “Toni, what happened?” she asked as soon as they met.

Putting a hand over her mouth, Antonella shook her head. “It’s Enrico. He’s angry with me.”

Ilaria frowned. “What for?”

“Things I can’t change.” She looked down at her feet, not wanting to meet Ilaria’s eyes.

“What things?”

“My family. My father.” She gestured around her with both hands. “This situation.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Antonella pursed her lips and raised a brow. “That doesn’t seem too likely.”

“He’s a
man
. They pout and stomp around for a while, then they eventually realize they’re being idiots, and they stop. You just have to let them recognize it in their own time.”

“I don’t know if he’ll ever get over this.” She crossed her arms and stopped walking, gazing out at the rippling lake. “Maybe I’m a fool to hope that he’ll ever look at me and not see the shadow of my father in the background.”

“Toni, stop. Just stop and listen to me. Is Enrico Lucchesi more stubborn than Dario? Than your father?”

Antonella shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Ilaria chuckled. “You
do
know. It’s not possible to be more stubborn than the men in your family. You’ve told me so a million times.”

Ilaria had a good point. “You’re right. I think.”

“You just have to wait him out. Let him realize certain things. Let him come to you.”

“Maybe I have been pushing too hard. I’d just—” She looked away and chewed at her bottom lip.

“You’d just what?”

Heat flooded her face.
Porca vacca
, why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? “I’d just like him to… find me desirable. Regardless.”

“Oh sweetie. He’s kissed you. He wouldn’t have if he didn’t.”

Antonella took a deep breath. “I think that would be a stretch. He’s kissed me three times. That doesn’t mean much.” She shook her head. “Not to a boy like Enrico.”

“Give him some credit. Give
yourself
some credit, Toni. He kissed you. Not once. Not twice. But three times.
Real
kisses. If he didn’t think you were attractive, why would he bother? Don’t you think he’d behave like so many of them? Barely give you a glance and find a mistress the moment the marriage license was signed?”

“Maybe he was being polite.”

“Is he being polite to you now?”

“Not at all.”

“Well then. He’s being honest. And that’s better.”

“And how is his yelling at me a good thing?”

“Because he’s not hiding. He might be pushing you away or avoiding you, but he’s not lying.”

Ilaria pulled her inside a
gelateria
, and Antonella studied the flavors. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’ve seen you deal with Dario and your father. You always manage to twist them around your fingers, and you have infinite patience with them. How is Enrico any different?”

I hurt him
. But she could never tell Ilaria that. “It is different, and you know it. I know they love me; they have to. Enrico doesn’t. And he doesn’t have any reason to ever love me.”

Ilaria hissed. “I really want to slap you right now. I know you’ve had a crush on him for ages, and
Dio
knows Enrico Lucchesi is something spectacular, but he’s just a man.”

Ilaria placed an order for pistachio gelato and nudged Antonella until she ordered the
nocciolato
, the combination of chocolate and hazelnuts that she could never resist. They collected their treats and went outside. Antonella took a spoonful, the cold gelato feeling delightful on her tongue. She resumed the conversation, said the thing she’d been reluctant to say in front of the boy at the counter.

“I want to be happy, Ilaria. I want
him
to be happy. I don’t want the sort of marriage where we don’t speak except about the kids. I don’t want to sit home by myself every night while he’s out… fornicating.”

Ilaria laughed so hard she turned red. “
Fornicating
? You sound like Sister Maria.”

Antonella blushed. “Well, I don’t know what word to use.”

“Yes, you do. Your father says it often enough.”

“It’s not polite.”

“Or ladylike.”

Antonella met Ilaria’s dancing eyes and started chuckling. “No, it’s not.”

“Do you think,” Ilaria asked, her voice deliberately proper, “that Enrico Lucchesi wants a
lady
in his bed?”

Antonella giggled. “I have no idea what he wants.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “But when we kissed the second time, he took my hand and put it on his
cazzo
. And it was hard.”

Ilaria broke into a grin. “He doesn’t want a lady then.” A moment later, she sobered. “You need to be careful, Toni. Think what your father would do if he knew about that.”

Antonella’s stomach tightened. “You’re right. But…”

“But what?”

“Do you think Rico expects me to know…
things
?”

“I’m sure he assumes you know the basics.”

“But what if he thinks I should know how to please him?”

“You’re supposed to be a virgin, so don’t worry.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Ilaria shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll learn whatever you need to know.”

“How?” It wasn’t like she could ask Mamma. As far as Antonella could tell, she and Dario had been immaculately conceived. Her parents never showed any sort of physical affection or interest in each other.

“I expect he’ll tell you what he likes.” Ilaria tossed her empty gelato cup in a rubbish bin. She motioned to Antonella’s barely touched cup. “It’s melting.”

Antonella took another spoonful, the taste of hazelnuts and chocolate momentarily distracting her. “He’s a very good kisser.” She lowered her voice into a confidential tone. “I think he’s had a lot of practice.”

“Will you stop worrying?”

Although she dug her spoon into the cup again, Antonella’s stomach was too knotted up to enjoy the treat. Without a word, she handed the cup to Ilaria, who shrugged again and started to finish it. “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“You won’t,” Ilaria said around a mouthful of gelato.

Antonella stopped and sat on a bench along the promenade. Her throat was so tight she could barely mention what truly frightened her. “I know he’s settling for me. That he’s being forced. I’m afraid he’s going to come to hate me as much as he hates my father.”

Ilaria gently squeezed her shoulder. “It’ll be fine. He’s smart enough to know you’re not to blame.”

But I am
, she wanted to say. She felt almost sick with dread. What if Enrico learned of what she’d done? He’d never forgive her. She had to keep it secret. But it would be so hard.

And wouldn’t keeping secrets be a recipe for disaster? How could a marriage founded on lies ever be sound?

Ilaria gave her a little shake. “
Cara
, you have to stop worrying like this, or you’ll make all your worst fears come true. Attitude is ninety-nine percent of everything. Isn’t that what you always say?”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time.” Though it was something her father had said to her again and again; at least he believed it to be true.

Ilaria laughed. “Who are you and what did you do with my friend? The Toni
I
know isn’t afraid of anything. And she always gets her way—eventually.”

“Enrico isn’t my dad or my brother. He has this…
power
over me. It’s hard to explain. I care what he thinks, and I worry about his opinion of me.”

“You just don’t feel secure with him. That’s all.”

That was it. Ilaria had pinpointed the very problem. “You’re a genius,” Antonella said and nudged Ilaria with her shoulder.

Ilaria tossed her dark curls over her shoulders and dusted off her hands. “My work here is done.”

Antonella laughed. “No, it isn’t. You have to help me figure out how I can feel more confident with him.”

“Remember when he kissed you? And he made you touch him?”