Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
As if up until now our minds were in denial, not fully accepting the reality of his death.
But then the coffin lid closed.
And it was over.
That strange, unrealistic flicker of hope… extinguished like a forlorn candle stub.
Outside, we placed his coffin into the glass enclosure of the horse-drawn hearse which would take him to his final resting place in the private family cemetery on Cavalieri land. Alfonso had more than earned that honor.
He may not have been a Cavalieri in name, but he was a Cavalieri in our hearts.
As the horses pulled the hearse carriage forward, we filed into a line behind it to begin the procession through the village.
Mourners lined the path, tossing white roses onto the roof of the glass enclosure as it passed.
We slowly walked the several miles behind the hearse, knowing this would be our last walk together with the friend who had always walked by our sides.
As we neared the gates of the winery, a somber strain of music could be heard on the wind.
And then I saw her… Ella seated below a nearby tree, playing Barber’s "Adagio for Strings" on her cello as we passed.
And in that moment, I thanked God for having the grace to twist the strings of fate that brought this remarkable woman into my life.
Hours later.
After all the mourners had left.
My father, Uncle Barone, Enzo, Cesare, and I stood around Alfonso’s fresh grave.
Uncle Barone opened a bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano d'Abruzzo dei Cavalieri, raised it high, and said, “To Alfonso. Never will a man be missed more.” He then took a swig directly from the bottle and passed it around.
After drinking, I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth and spoke to him as if he were still alive. “You missed a hell of a fight, my friend. You would have loved it.”
Enzo handed the bottle to Cesare after taking a drink. “Especially the part where that asshole Fino pissed himself.”
My father placed his hand on Uncle Barone’s shoulder. “Remember the time Alfonso accidentally shot your old vineyard manager in the ass while he was fucking that village woman in the trees over there.”
Uncle Barone threw his head back and laughed. “Alfonso didn’t miss a beat. As the man ran around howling, clutching his bare, buckshot ass, Alfonso reloaded his gun and said, ‘if you fuck like an animal in the woods expect to get shot like one too.'"
For the rest of the day and long into the night, we sat by Alfonso’s gravesite, drinking and telling stories… keeping our old friend company through the darkness so he wouldn’t be alone.
CHAPTER 54
MATTEO
One month later.
I prowled through the crowd at the piazza. Shouldering past the many tourists and locals as they danced around the center bonfire.
I nodded to the bodyguard my girl knew about—then to the two she didn’t. One of them gestured to the left with his head.
And that was when I spotted her.
Her blonde hair loose and falling in golden waves down her back, drawing every male eye to the generous swell of her hips as she moved and swayed to the music. Her left arm gracefully stretched out then swept over her head in time to the beat, while her right extended toward the crowd, holding a red plastic bucket.
I came up behind her and wrapped my arm tightly around her waist. Drawing her back against my hips and already growing cock, I growled, "Bad girl, swaying your hips like this in front of other men—when you're supposed to be mine."
Ella giggled and turned in my arms. As she draped her left hand around my neck, she tilted her head back and smiled. “I’m all yours, husband.”
I gave her a hard kiss on her sweet, full lips. “And don’t you ever forget it, wife.”
My hand caressed down her right arm to remove the bucket from her grasp. Lifting it out of her reach, I shook it until the coins rattled. “I thought I made myself clear about this?”
She stretched on her toes to reach it but was adorably too short. “Technically yes, but…”
“No buts. We agreed.”
Giuseppe approached us with his hand over his heart. “So sorry, Signore Cavalieri. You have my word it won’t happen again.”
Handing him the bucket, I raised an eyebrow. “See that it doesn’t.”
Ella had joined the small string quartet that played in the piazza under the strict rule that she was not to move about the crowd busking for coins. For starters, it wasn’t a good look for the wife of a multi-millionaire, but more importantly, it was dangerous.
Nothing had been resolved with the Agnellos. Her father was still screaming for war, while her sister had fled to Milan. Which left Dante scrambling to shore up loyalty.
And then there was Judge Marzio Delluci. We had something special planned for him, but it would take a great deal of secrecy and a delicate touch.