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GLORIA

“ D ammit!” I curse, slumping back in my seat.

I lost them.

All this time, being so careful not to be seen, careful to keep up, and they vanish right out from under my nose. That’s what I get for dosing off on a stakeout.

To be fair, I haven’t been sleeping much at all since I made the knee-jerk decision to chase Adriano to Italy. I just thought he’d be doing some sort of secret deal.

Boy was I right in the worst way.

The beauty of the country is nearly lost on me for the stress I’ve had following Adriano. Mom and I drove through it on one of our detours, before we settled down in Paris. I barely remember the trip.

This time has been just as fleeting, a rush to keep my head down, trying to keep up with Adriano and not be seen.

All while my fiancé engages in…

Pure. Insanity.

His shady rendezvous with some contact of my dad’s has me standing out like a sore thumb in a really horrible part of town in Rome, leading to another meeting near some town that I’ve never heard of, followed by losing him for miles at a time on the drive to his destination.

Stupid rental car.

Stupid Adriano. Of course, he has a super car to rocket all over Europe in.

The only upside is that it stands out, so every time he stops for something, I’ve been able to spot the car.

Like outside of a ratty bar in a village called Orvieto where he stayed for several hours.

Before getting into a fight, a car chase, and a gun battle underground ending in an explosion. I kept my distance but saw enough to know that the Diamante brothers are so much more than I bargained for.

After that I tried to hang back, but they switched cars, and I had to risk being spotted rushing to catch up to them. The rest of that leg of the journey was tame.

They drove. They stopped for a little break.

When they left the rest stop, they were in new clothes.

A few hours later they stopped again in a little village by a breathtaking lake. Where the twins let Adriano out at what looked like a retirement community and sped off.

And where I promptly and very soundly fell asleep.

Two hours, a lot of backtracking, angry ranting at the windshield, and a minor meltdown later, I had no choice but to give up.

They could be anywhere by now.

So, I started to leave. To turn around and head back to the nearest major town and hope that they would make their way back through eventually, when the curiosity of who Adriano went to see got the better of me.

Being close to dark, I decided to wait until morning.

Old folks home, and all.

After a night tossing and turning at one of the town’s luxurious lakeside hotels, I wake feeling better than I have in a few days.

Cost. Worth it.

And it’s not like I can’t afford it with the cash I’ve still got left. Can’t blame a girl for needing a decent bed for a night.

Sitting in the car outside of the apartment, I finally get up the nerve, and the story I plan to give to the nurse I saw entering the unit. It’s time to see who lives here.

“Hi. I’m Gloria?—”

“Oh! Adriano’s fiancée? He was just here yesterday; I overheard your name when he came to see his grandmother.”

“That’s right. I was supposed to meet him here, but…connecting flights, you know.” My Italian isn’t the best, but it gets me by.

“Of course. Come in. Natalia was just about to have tea in the garden.”

The house is cute, simple, but extremely comfortable and well furnished. The nurse leads me through the living area, the kitchen, to the patio door.

“Now, she’s having a good day, but if she loses track of the conversation, just repeat yourself, or give her time to tell her stories and move on.”

“I will, thank you.”

Outside, I step into a small alcove of terracotta tile and vibrant blossoms hanging in pots all around. A low fence encloses the far end, overlooking a courtyard of sorts in the center of several other back patios, all matching in the complex style.

And there, sitting in a weathered rocking chair, a tiny, old woman with white hair.

“Miss Natalia! You have another visitor. That’s two in as many days!” The nurse offers me the chair across from Natalia, giving me an expectant look. I nod, insinuating that she can go for now.

Kind, smile-crinkled eyes scan the greenery before settling on me, a twinkle sparkling in the deep brown pools. Her pleasant expression is hard to read.

“Good morning, Miss Natalia. My name is Gloria.” I start in English, hoping she speaks it better than I speak Italian.

“The one who make him smile, my piccolino .” She holds up her cup, waiting for me to fill it. Her gestures are a bit shaky, her demeanor what you would expect of an elderly woman, probably in her seventies or eighties. But something in the way she watches me tells me she’s sharp.

Pouring a steaming cup, I nod, filling my own and sitting back down. “Um, yes? I’m Adriano’s fiancée.”

“You are also his fear, no?”

“Excuse me?”

“I see in his eyes. Adriano is good boy. Always brings me cookies, check on me to make sure I have a blanket.”

“He is very kind.”

“He is too kind. His heart is delicate thing.”

Sipping the herbal blend, I try to decide what to say next. She’s not what I expected. None of this was.

It feels almost like a test.

“I want to protect his heart. I also want to know his heart better.”

At this she tilts her head, like she’s listening to something only she can hear. Several seconds pass and I wonder if she’s still aware of me.

“What about your heart? What about your blood, ragazza ?” The tone is calm, soft. But something in the wording, the way she says the last two words raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Miss Natalia.” Honesty seems best.

“You have his chin, you know. His cheekbones. Your father’s.”

The statement hits me like a slap across the face. “Y-you know my father?”

“ Si , figlia della vipera. ”

Chills run down my arms at the words, the meaning. Daughter of the viper.

But Natalia isn’t angry, or dismissive, looking right at me over the white china of her cup. Waiting.

“He fathered me, yes.”

At this her eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, and I wonder what it means. If I offended her or betrayed something in the statement. After another moment’s pause, she nods and continues.

“He was like brother to my orso , Alessandro. A leader. Meant to be a king.”

“He is a king, now,” I say more to myself than to her.

She ignores the response completely. “Domenico was a clever boy. Bright. They visit me, when they are young many times. After my Valentina pass away, only one time. Again, many years later.”

“What was he like, back then?”

“He always show respect. Cheerful as boy. Happy. But he change.”

“Change? What do you mean?”

“Like Alessandro. When he lose Catalina, and my daughter, his mother. His father. Pain, he wears like coat. Same with Domenico. Never the same after.”

“After Alessandro’s parents died?”

“No. Before. After he lose child,” Natalia says quietly, her voice mournful.

The morning birds seem to quiet, the whole scene stilling to the words.

His child.

Me?

Gathering my thoughts, trying to decide what to ask first, I take a breath. “My mother, she took me away from him. When I was very young, two or three, maybe. This would have been twenty years ago or so. Was that what you meant?”

Natalia looks up at me, a little surprised, like she’s just noticing me. “Took you from who?”

“Domenico. My father.”

Her eyes flick back and forth for a moment, her stare a little glassy.

“No, no. Domenico, he have a baby boy. Il bambino , he die. Dio riposi nella sua piccolo anima. ” She signs the cross over her chest.

Swallowing hard, my mouth dry, I slump back, trying to process.

My father had a son?

I had a brother?

“Natalia, do you remember how old Dom was when he had the baby boy?”

“ Si, si. Alessandro was jealous, because he is captain first, Domenico. Young for a captain. Only sixteen.”

Sixteen.

Which means he had a lover before my mother, and a child with her.

And he lost both of us, in a way. It almost explains some of his behavior, but my head is spinning, racing through what I’ve learned.

No wonder he wants a child of his own to raise, to make up for his grief, his trauma. It still doesn’t excuse his wild demands, his wicked games.

But it puts some things in perspective about what side Adriano is on in his mind. What side I must appear to be on.

Lost in thought, I forget for a moment where I am.

Until I look over, to find Natalia dozing, her chin lolling slightly. Standing, I take her cup, setting it down and pulling the blanket up around her frail frame. Looking down at her, I picture Adriano sitting next to this delicate old woman, holding her hand, and bite down on a sob building at the back of my throat.

And in the moment, I make a choice, choose a direction.

To the question that she asked me moments before, and to my own doubt and indecision.

“What about your heart? What about your blood, ragazza?”

“I choose my heart, Natalia. But I also choose my blood. Not his blood.”

Leaving the retirement villa behind, I head back toward Rome. From there, I know where I need to go next.

I’m coming, Anna.