secret?” I stared up at his face as he moved us again.
“Depends,” he said.
After a few minutes, I said, “On?”
“Whether or not I trust you.”
I wiggled even harder, demanding he put me down. He walked a few more steps and then set me on my feet. My knees were still unsteady, but I made myself stand straight.
He was much taller than me, wider, with muscles, but I would not back down.
“You do not trust me?” I said, the shock in my voice apparent. “I do not trust you.” I pointed at him.
He grinned again, stepping up to me. I held my ground and our bodies almost touched. He bent down, getting closer to my ear. “You will,” he whispered.
I closed my eyes, another shiver racking my body as he moved away from me. When I opened my eyes, he had already disappeared into the field of men—a modern-day Houdini.
9
Alcina
For the tenth time since my eyes opened that morning, I almost ran into one of the men who helped me bring the boxes from the kitchen in the factory to the delivery van.
My focus felt broken and in pieces. Not only did lo scorpione haunt my dreams, but he still appeared where he once wasn’t. It was throwing off my game.
I did not need the distraction. I had enough on my mind, and his presence only reinforced why my life was the way it was.
Through our channels, I had learned that papà was close to finalizing the terms of the arrangement. Even though they were dangerous men he was bargaining with, me as the chip, as they say, he refused to budge on one detail. Only one person seemed to know what it was, and that person was my mamma.
There were days I was thankful for this. For the time it gave me to be somewhat free. Other days I was not. I had a guillotine hanging over my head, and every second of every day I wondered if it was going to come crashing down.
After a man recovers from being castrated, an animal like Junior… I shivered to think what his punishment would be. Even with two balls, his temperament was horrible.
“This one?” one of the guys helping asked.
I nodded. Besides making pastries for the pistachio festival, and generally helping where I was needed, I also made candles. It was something I did to free my mind when it became overcrowded with thoughts and worries. Every so often, I would take a trip to Modica and swap pistachio goods for some chocolate, which they were known for, to use in my pastries.
The Ranieri famiglia had shops in different parts of Italy. The main one was in Modica. They sold their famous chocolate and other things, including candles. They ordered extra supplies for me so I could pick them up and take them back to Bronte.
The Ranieris were famiglia on my mamma’s side—my mamma’s aunt was married to Pasquale, a famous poet.
I had stayed with them for a while, to give me a different place to hide, but after Pasquale passed, I decided to be closer to my sister. I had never mentioned Fabrizio or his famiglia to Junior, because he was a man who did not ask many questions, only demanded to know certain things. Such as the layout of my body.
My stomach felt sick thinking of him, and I hauled the last box from the counter and turned too fast, running into the stomach of the man behind me. His arms came around the box, but mine were already there, and we stood awkwardly.
He smiled at me. “I can take this.”
Even though Fabrizio’s business was mostly run by famiglia, there were always new men from year to year. I did not get close, because I did not trust anyone.
A throat cleared from the open door. I smelled him in the air before he even entered into the room. Spice from his sweat and dust from the fields—and that cologne that no man could buy, but still had to own. Power.
The guy holding the box turned to look at lo scorpione a second after I did. Lo scorpione gave a slow, sharp nod, and immediately I knew what he wanted. For the guy to release the box and get out.
The guy was smart enough to do it.
For a man with such frightening tattoos, he was almost too beautiful to the eye. His hair was as black as a moonless night. His skin was smooth and had been kissed by the