Estate. After all, I am a married man now…I have no reason to stay at home any longer.
Father has told us he's prepared a surprise for us, and Marzia stares out of the car window expectantly as we drive away from the Estate. Father and I talk while the landscape changes outside.
"Have I been there before?" Marzia asks.
"I told you, I'm going to keep it a surprise until we get there," Father sternly replies. "I'm not going to spoil it just because you're nosy."
Marzia pouts.
It makes me laugh as I pull her against me.
She settles into the crook of my arm, her eyes glued to the car window as we pull away from our last home.
All I know is that Father has secured a new home from us. So, he's sending us away along with six maids and six guards to help us get started. We won't want for anything…I've made a fortune selling the art Vitto had stolen, and we're set for life.
I've explained to Father that I want to take a step back from the famiglia. As much as I didn't want to admit it, the events of the past few months have scarred me, too.
Thinking about the death toll our riffs have caused makes me feel physically sick. I don't want to kill people anymore. I want a quiet life with my wife by my side. Luckily for me, my father has gone along with the plan, agreeing to free me of my duties to the mafia. I'm a free man now, and I couldn't feel better for it.
We drive for an hour until Marzia shoots up in her seat, her eyes finding Father's as she says, "Are we going where I think we're going?"
"Wait and see." He smirks at her.
It takes a while longer, but when we arrive, I'm as shocked as Marzia.
The guards open the doors for us.
Excited, Marzia flees out of the car.
I pull Father to the side, muttering, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"You tell me." He shrugs, pointing to Marzia. "Look at your wife. Have you ever seen her happier?"
I do as he says, drinking in Marzia's gorgeous features. She's smiling wider than I've ever seen her.
We're at the Da Costa Mansion now. I would've thought it was abandoned after the massacre that happened here, but that isn't the case.
The house may have a terrible history, but Marzia doesn't seem to care about any of that as she stares at her former home. She wipes a tear from her eyes. "Can we stay here?" she asks in a whisper, turning to face us. "Can this be our home?"
"Yes." Father nods. "I have arranged for you both to stay here and if you so wish, to handle the distillery together. Adrian, you're still welcome to conduct art trades for us, of course, but I thought this would be a good way to bring in some extra money. And keep tradition alive, to make Marzia's nonna proud."
She shocks us both by approaching my father and wrapping him up in a tight hug.
Awkwardly, Father pats my wife's back.
Marzia shows us around the property herself.
I can tell she's delighted Father kept up with taking care of this place. The halls have been scrubbed, redone and redecorated. This place is perfect for a young couple like us, who is just looking to start over.
Once we've completed the tour of the grounds, Father asks us to sit down in what used to be Marzia's father's office.
If she's upset by being in the room, she doesn't show it. Absent-mindedly, my wife rubs her swollen belly as she inspects the new furnishings of the office.
"I would like you to keep working on the distillery," Father says once we all sit down. "There's no reason to stop now, as everything is fully operational and I've ensured it's up to your standards, Marzia."
"Thank you." She nods. "Are there any workers from the old distillery still around?"
"Yes, the village is full of them. Last I spoke to them, they seemed delighted to hear of your return." Father nods.
"And what about me?" I ask out loud. "I am a Bernardi after all. We are responsible for everything that happened here. Do they hold it against us?"
"No." Father shakes his head. "It seems relationships with the Da Costa family and the villagers have been… ah, strained for a long time. Did you know about this, Marzia?"
My wife nods. "Father didn't like the villagers. He called them commoners. I won't make the same mistake."
"I