Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
I walked away from Martin and made my way back over to Sal, who was saying his final goodbyes at the door. “Nannu, I think it is time that I leave; the others are mostly gone.”
“No-no, go where? You will stay here, with me. At least until we have found the ones who tried to hurt you, yes.” I put up a good fight or appeared to for anyone watching.
“But your family….”
“You are my family; you stay here.”
“I didn’t bring my clothes. I have nothing with me. I should go back to the hotel….”
“No-no, I send Fabrizio to get your stuff. Come!” He took my wrist and led me away from the door while beckoning Fabrizio over with his free hand. He ordered him in heavy old-world Sicilian to go back to the hotel and bring my belongings before summoning the butler who’d been standing off to the side beneath one of the arched entryways.
He whispered something in his ear before all but dragging me out of the ballroom. He hadn’t said a word to his son or his daughter-in-law this whole time. “You will sit with me until your room is ready.”
“Of course, if you’re sure it will be no trouble.”
“Trouble? Trouble, no, there’s no trouble. I, your grandfather, would not allow.” If the circumstances were different, I could see myself liking old Sal. He’s like the men in my family, except for the wayward son thing.
Alonzo tried to approach his father, and because Sal still had a grip on my hand, I had to force myself not to react to him being this close. “Papa, we must talk.” Sal just held his hand up and waved him off.
“Later!” We strolled by him and entered another entryway, then went down a long marble corridor that led to another part of the palazzo.
Sal opened the door to a suite of rooms and ushered me inside. “These are my rooms. But Gabe, you’ve eaten nothing all night; let me get you something.”
“No, that’s okay; I ate on the plane.” There were voices out in the corridor beyond the door that sounded like Felice and Alonzo, and Sal’s face turned to marble when they tried opening the door.
“I said later. I am having a moment with my grandson.”
Felice did not like this and tried to argue, but Sal shut her down and told them both to leave the room. I’m not sure what was making these two more nervous, the fear of me telling Sal the truth about my conception or the feat that I might be horning in on their inheritance and that of their children. I could answer that for them, but things are not exactly where I want them to be in that department as yet.
So far, Sal has made moves to add me to his will, but not in quite the capacity I’m after. I kept my mouth shut during this exchange, with my head down like any respectful Sicilian child in the presence of the adults should. Besides, if they saw my eyes, the jig would be up because I could almost feel the heat coming off them.
They were leaving just as the butler appeared to inform me that my room was ready. “Ah, come, I show you.” We left the two intruders standing in the hallway as Sal took me down another winding corridor to a different part of the palazzo. Not gonna lie; the Russo home could probably fit in this place twice or three times.
It had been built sometime in the seventeenth century, according to my research, and has been in the family going back a couple of centuries when someone in the lineage was gifted it by the ruler at the time. Though the Russo wealth and theirs were on an even keel, give or take a few million, Pop had them beat when it came to holdings and property investments.
We stopped in front of a set of eight-foot-tall mahogany doors with some sort of intricate design cut into the wood, which I soon recognized as the family crest. Sal may not have known, but I was aware of the two shadows following us and the way they came up short when Sal opened the doors with a flourish and invited me in.
“This is your great grandfather’s room, my father’s. It is tradition that the head of the family should stay here, but I, I could not do it after my Papa…. No one else has stayed here since he left us. You should stay here; he would be proud of you.” Sal, a man after my own heart. Let the games begin.
I fake yawned because I was in a rush to find out if the devices I’d planted so far were gonna work, and I’m sure those two out there were dying to ask Sal some questions. “You’re tired, si´. Get some rest, niputi, tomorrow; I will show you around; you’ll stay here for a few days with me.”