up on the boat

FRANCESCA

“YOU’VE PROBABLY HEARD the news. My dad’s other family has gone missing.” Vincent’s jaw clenches as he speaks.

I’m lounging on the couch, watching the men converse. Gino, Joseph, and Luciano have been silent for a while now.

“I’ll send scouts to search your territories for them,” Vincent Bianchi concludes.

The room falls silent before erupting into chaos. Everyone starts talking at once. I watch, mildly annoyed at their childish behavior.

Antonio catches my eye, and I can see he’s as bored as I am. I look away. I’m still mad at him.

“Don Giordano’s wife, right?”

I turn to Angelina in surprise. “Yes,” I reply, offering a polite smile.

She extends her hand for a shake. “Angelina Bianchi, Don Bianchi’s wife.”

Vincent must trust her a lot to bring her here. But does that mean Antonio trusts me just as much? That seems unlikely, considering his recent actions.

She chuckles, glancing at the arguing men. I can see the sadness in her eyes. I don’t ask her about it. It’s not my place. I follow her gaze. Almost everyone is pissed off.

My husband and Vincent just sit there calmly. If they were girls, they’d probably be checking their nails. I stifle a laugh. Antonio with long hair and nails is not a sight I want to see.

Angelina turns to me. “I didn’t get to meet you at your wedding. I apologize for that, Donna Giordano.”

“You were at my wedding?” I ask, confused. I didn’t see her there, but then I remember how quickly Antonio whisked me away.

I realize I’m being rude. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t notice. The Don and I left very early and I didn’t get the chance to meet everyone.”

She chuckles, leaning against the white couch. “I understand. Your husband greeted us before the wedding so it was fine.”

My attention snaps to the men when I hear someone slam his palm on the table. Vincent’s eyes are blazing.

“Oh, God, no,” Angelina mumbles beside me. I don’t think she meant for me to hear.

I study them more closely. My husband doesn’t seem to care. He looks bored, but everyone else flinches back. However, I know better.

In reality, Antonio is probably the most alert right now. This cool demeanor is definitely a front, and he’s very good at keeping it up.

~What an actor.~

“Shut the fuck up, all of you. If I find out that my family has been harmed in any way because of any of you, I swear to God I will end you all.”

~What an idiot,~ I think, tensing up. What a way to piss off all the mob bosses of the ~Nostra Vita~.

“Enough!” Don Lambardi roars in fury. “What the hell is this meeting for; for you to insult us at every turn? How dare you blame us when you can’t even protect your own family?”

Vincent seethes. He’s too proud to admit weakness. He’d never admit that his family ran off without him noticing.

The Bianchis are already looked down upon because of it. His reputation is on the line.

I glance at Antonio to see his reaction, but he looks as composed as ever. That is, until he suddenly stands up and casually adjusts the cuffs of his suit.

“This meeting is adjourned. Bianchi, I assure you that your family will not be found in my territory, and if they are, then no harm will come to them. You have my word.”

And then he walks around the table.

I don’t stand up immediately as I should. Something compels me to stay seated.

It must be my pettiness, because I’m still mad at him. But when he stands in front of me and extends his hand for me to take, I do.

Not because I’m okay with him, but because I don’t want to insult him in front of his colleagues. Antonio has never insulted me in public, and I won’t do it to him.

I notice the men watching us as we leave. Alessandro and Pietro stay behind. I glance at Angelina and see her give me a small smile.

She seems cool. I like her. I nod at her as a goodbye before Antonio leads me out of the room.

Downstairs, everyone is bustling around nervously. Antonio and I lean against the balcony on the third floor. People are pretending to laugh, to converse, to have fun.

It’s obvious when you watch closely from above. Many are dancing to loud music on the dance floor. It looks so lively and glamorous.

No one would ever guess that a mob war could be sparked by the conversation upstairs.

I stiffen when I feel his arm wrap around my waist. He pulls me closer. If it were before his recent actions, I would’ve leaned into him lovingly. Now, I don’t want that. I feel betrayed.

He can never understand how scared I was. And what’s worse is that he doesn’t even care. He didn’t even apologize. He didn’t even regret it.

I stare across the hall as I ignore him. Amalia and Gianna are with other women, laughing and talking, but I can still see the tension between them.

It’s almost unnoticeable, but it’s there, and since I noticed, someone else may have as well.

“Come,” he whispers in my ear. Despite my current feelings for him, I feel goosebumps rise on my skin.

~Traitorous body.~

I walk with him in silence. He pushes open a tinted door and I’m instantly hit with a cool breeze. I shiver.

My lips part in surprise. We’re on the highest balcony of the cruise ship. The wind ruffles my hair and I worry it will get messed up, despite my awe at the beauty surrounding us.

I step out of my husband’s grasp and walk to the edge. My hand skims over the golden railing before I turn to walk alongside it.

My lips dry as the wind cools, but I grin when the breeze hits my skin. The fresh smell of the water makes me feel free. I feel like I can finally breathe.

I can feel his gaze on me, and I slowly pivot to meet his eyes. He’s leaning against a railing, his brows furrowed and lips pursed.

My smile starts to fade. Is he planning to toss me overboard and claim it was an accident?

~No, that’s ridiculous.~

~But it could happen.~

I dismiss the thought as quickly as it forms. It’s not possible. If I were to fall, it would show everyone that he can’t protect me. I know him well enough to understand that he’d rather die than let that happen.

He tilts his head slightly, and I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed, even though he’s the one who’s been staring. I turn away. When he touches me this time, it feels different.

It feels awkward, and I just want to escape from him. I stiffen when I feel him drape his blazer over my shoulders.

“Did you really mean what you said yesterday?” he asks softly. His hands remain on my shoulders, but he keeps a distance between us. His chest barely grazes my back.

“What?”

“When you said you were starting to, well…fall for me.”

I dodge his question. “When are we going home?”

Silence stretches between us. Neither of us speaks.

He sighs and grabs my arm, spinning me to face him. I meet his gaze defiantly. I didn’t mean to, but I’m not in the mood to make peace either.

I have some self-respect. If he wants to treat this like it’s just his job or a game, then I can play along. Pleasing him is my job anyway. I’ll see it that way from now on.

That’s what he wants anyway. Why did I put in so much effort when he barely did? Why didn’t I just let him go when I had the chance? Why did I want this to work so much before?

“Stop changing the subject,” he says. “And stop frowning.”

I look away. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” I reply.

He pulls me closer instantly and dips his head down, cupping my jaw so I have to look him in the eyes. “Yes. Yes, it does,” he says, his breath hitching.

“No. No, it doesn’t, Don. Because if it did, you wouldn’t have acted as you did yesterday. But I can’t really blame you now, can I? You are the Don and I should have expected it. I should have known.” I turn to walk away.

He spins me around abruptly. “Don’t walk away from me,” he hisses.

“Sorry,” I say, my voice flat.

He stares down at me. His eyes narrow into slits before he releases me. He knows I didn’t mean it. I watch as he turns and leaves, abandoning me on the ship’s deck.

***

I can’t find him anywhere. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see him. I feel safer around him. It’s purely for selfish reasons. He’s my protection. I hate that I’m so dependent on him.

Slow music is playing on the main floor. I stand at the bar quietly, observing everyone. Some people are just looking around. Others are dancing and laughing.

I spot Alessandro and Pietro conversing with other business associates, but Antonio is nowhere to be seen.

I sigh as I turn to face the bartender. He’s a man with wispy red hair and a freckled face. He catches me staring and flashes me a small smile.

He immediately leaves the other customers and approaches me.

“~Possa avere qualcosa per una bella signora comme te?~” he asks with a smile. He’s called me lovely.

~Smooth~, I think. “~Solo acqua. Grazie~.” My Italian is passable. I understand it, but I sometimes struggle to speak it.

The man leaves. I flinch when someone stands beside me. I instantly know it’s not Antonio. Alessandro smiles at me, his red and black suit straining against his muscles.

“Your husband is with Don Lambardi on the second floor. They’re having a much more private meeting,” he says.

I raise my eyebrows. “Would there be any chance of the feds being around?” I ask.

“Why? Are you planning to escape, ~S~orella~?” Alessandro asks, his tone light, but I can see the tension in his eyes.

I stiffen. Did Antonio tell him? But from the way Alessandro smiles, I don’t think he knows. I think he’s just wary because I asked.

I can’t blame him. Wives don’t usually take an interest in such things.

“No, just worried that this place might be bugged,” I say, offering a small smile to the bartender who hands me my water.

I notice Alessandro watching me. I raise an eyebrow in question, and he simply shakes his head.

“I never understood why Antonio was so smitten with you at first, Mrs. Giordano,” he says, his expression thoughtful. “But now I do.”

I take a sip of my water. Puckering my lips, I decide to just go for it. “He talked about me?”

Alessandro smirks. “Now, I wouldn’t be such a good consigliere if I spilled the Don’s secrets, would I?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “You started it,~F~ratello~,” I tell him.

He tilts his head, his smirk growing. “Fair enough. All right, just this one time, but only because you called me ~Fr~atello~.”

I look at him, intrigued. He chuckles.

“Normally, the Don likes to keep his private life, well, private. But he crashed at my house drunk one time last week.” He looks at me to see if I remember the day he didn’t come home.

I remember it very well, actually. I had waited for him the whole night, only for him to show up in the morning.

“And he blurted some things out. Some shit along the lines of ‘I love waking up next to her’ and ‘she’s so smart.’ Didn’t understand any of the other stuff he mumbled,” he continues.

~Did he really say that?~

“Your husband’s gonna have my head if he finds out I spilled the beans,” he mutters, looking a bit worried. “That is, if he even remembers our conversation. Shit—sorry for the language, Mrs. Giordano.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Well, that’s only if he finds out.”

Our eyes meet. “Let’s hope he doesn’t then,” he replies.

“Sounds good to me,” I assure him.

“You’re a good match for the Don. I’ll have Amalia keep you company.”

Before he can make his exit, I stop him. He turns back to me, an eyebrow raised in question. “I need you to be straight with me,” I tell him.

He immediately stands a bit taller, sensing the gravity in my voice. “What’s going on with Pietro?”