Chapter 21

Valentina Sicily, present day. After the hectic morning of leaving England for good, where I lived for the past eight years, I am at the airport, waiting while they collect my luggage, breathing in the salty night air of Palermo. I return as a true Sicilian, the gentle mafia girl, completely polished, with no trace of the rough diamond my mother used to say existed in me. Father proved that a few years ago, during his last visit to the boarding school. While his rough voice sentenced my fate, he waited for my anger and distress, but I simply stood before him with composure, drifting back to that day when we buried my mother. I would marry the man with the severe gaze, and it was not a proposal. It was a warning that I simply pretended had never happened, after the first anxiety attack the news caused me. Not thinking was easier. Not thinking about the man much older than me, who also happens to be the future Capo, nor about the fact that I was only seven years old when the agreement was made. My father said everything so naturally that there was no room for me to feel the horror of it. He was clear and waited for the moment he believed was right to tell me—the moment when he would not find refusal in me. “When I tell you to marry someone, you marry.” Obediently, all I could do was say “yes” and smile in delight for being chosen by the future head of the Cosa Nostra, matron of the main commandment, and part of the most important clan in Palermo, the most feared in all of Italy. And the only thing I remember about him are his light eyes, burning with anger as flowers were thrown onto my mother’s grave. We were in the same place on other occasions, but that is the only memory I have. Lorenzo Vitale is my chance to prove to my father that he won and that I learned never to betray anyone or rise against the family. I know I will not have peace. I am probably ready to sit beside the devil himself, but that does not matter. My goals go beyond me. I do not fool myself into thinking I can go against the mafia or even against Lorenzo—that is not what I want. I grew up within it, and I will remain in it, but in my own way, because I found my place in the world, in the shadows of the Cosa Nostra, and I will go to the end. With my right hand, I tighten the expensive watch on my left wrist, which I make a point of wearing at all times, realizing that it will not be long before I see them all again. With its soft tick-tock, I remember who I am fighting, that time is my executioner and is always ready to devour its own children. “How are you, little sister?” Paolo looks at me, his ironic smile showing he does not care about any answer I might give. “I hope you are ready for your family. Graziela must be eager to share Dante’s attention with you.” “I’m sure she is.” I swallow the rude reply, humming some random song in my mind. I trained for years to endure my family’s cynicism, and today will not be the day all that effort fails. “You know, don’t pay too much attention to her appearance. That creature is so stupid that there isn’t a day she doesn’t have a bruise. She’s harder to make understand things, just like you were, remember?” I feel tested as his eyes meet mine through the rearview mirror. “No matter what you see, don’t interfere.” Graziela married my father shortly after I was sent to boarding school. We had little contact, and I was not even at the wedding. The celebration was small, since she was a widow and not very important. She married simply so she would not be alone, and without parents or a living husband, she remained alone within the drug trade, her late husband’s business, now headless. My stepmother was only eighteen when she became a De Luca. She married early and, just months into the marriage, her husband Enrico De Luca was killed by the police near the port while receiving a shipment. That same year, she was promised and married to my father, and I would not want to be in her place. If I thought I was miserable, that creature was even more cursed than I was. She has survived years of marriage and is now at the peak of her twenty-six years of age. We will truly live together for the next semester, until I myself get married, in the strangest relationship I could imagine. “You know, Valentina, I’m eager to watch your new life with your future family.” I swallow hard, constantly using my self-control. “Even I’m shocked by your evolution. I’m just curious to see how far you can endure.” “There’s nothing to endure, Paolo. As you’ve noticed, I’m not the same, and I don’t intend to make the same mistakes again. If I don’t interfere, the rope won’t snap on my side.” “Exactly. Now both women in the house know that. I think I’ll use father’s methods when I get married.” He laughs at his own horrible joke. “And Raoul, how is he?” “That coward is receiving a new shipment at the port.” My stomach twists at the thought it might be a guest. “A full batch of heroin to be distributed to club buyers.” I disguise my breathing. Just drugs. I can live with that, but I need more valuable information than heroin. “I hope business is going well. I need to replace my entire wardrobe before the wedding, because don’t expect me to attend family events wearing old clothes.” I sound as shallow as possible and receive a look of approval. “Don’t worry. All business is going wonderfully. In fact, we’ve never been better.” The emphasis on all business is a sign that I should stop asking questions. At the entrance of the house, the path to the North Wing takes a few minutes. I look at the trees rustling and reflecting the moonlight, feeling a bit nostalgic, remembering the time when I used to run like crazy with my mother chasing me. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I smile. I was always praised for my smile, and it is in it that I hide anything my expression might reveal. With it, I distract, seduce, absolve myself… And in this moment, I pretend to forget. At the entrance, Graziela appears, and I do not know if she is truly happy or just relieved. “Valentina, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m happy to see you again.” She looks impeccable. However, I notice the excess clothing, probably to hide bruises. “You know, Graziela, even though you are my stepmother, we are only three years apart, so I don’t think you need to treat me with so much politeness,” I greet her, truly thinking the poor woman needs a friend. “Sorry. I admit I’m a little nervous and don’t quite know how to act.” “How about this?” I hug her tightly, as if telling her she could count on me in this miserable life. The moment does not last long with Paolo’s return after parking the car. “I’m glad you’re here. Shall we? Dinner will be served soon.” It is strange to see another woman running the house instead of my mother. I accept her invitation and we go upstairs. As always, I shiver when I face the hallway. The groans of pain seem to still be there, like in my nightmares, but I ignore them and retreat into my old room. We enter, and on the bed, just like in the few times I returned home, I see the red leather strap—and I always know it will be there, but I freeze every time. Graziela quickly leaves when my fingers run over the fine material. I pick it up and examine it, yearning for it to bring back every detail of that night. I want to feel the same anger. I need it. “I hope you had a good trip, Valentina.” Dante surprises me when Graziela and I are waiting for them for dinner. “How are you, father?” “Anxious. Your return has been awaited by all the clans. Salvatore is no longer a young man, and everyone expects certainty that the Cosa Nostra has a guaranteed future.” “We are not made of one man alone. Every Capodecina matters,” I say what he wants to hear. “I agree, but don’t repeat that in front of your fiancé,” he orders, and I simply nod. “This weekend, you must attend a meeting at the Vitale house. You need to get closer to your new family.” Dante De Luca announces with satisfaction, and I smile at him as soon as the news is delivered.