Chapter 21

Aslap to the face woke me up.

"Get up. We're here."

My head lolled to the side, coming to rest against the jamb of the car door.

Here looked to be a train station. After rubbing my eyes to clear them, I could make out the words Cavalieri Porta Nuova on a rectangular sign with a dark blue background and gold letters.

Cavalieri.

The Cavalieri family was so rich and powerful they had an entire freaking city named after them.

As if I were just an uninterested passenger watching the world go by, I stared as Tasso/Terzo/Tomasso unloaded my suitcase onto the nearby platform before tossing my cello case on top. I supposed my sister thought letting me have my cello would soften the blow of her betrayal.

Tasso/Terzo/Tomasso pointed to the north. "The Cavalieri winery is over there a few kilometers from town, in the foothills of the Apennine mountains. Now get out."

"You're just going to leave me here?"

He yanked on my arm, pulling me from the car. "Yeah, you think I'm stupid or something?"

Even through my drugged haze, I knew better than to answer that honestly.

He continued. "I'm not going up to the winery so those arrogant bastards can shoot me. If you wait here long enough, I'm sure someone will come to help a pretty girl like you, especially dressed like that."

I scratched at the faceted crystal neckline again. Leave it to Toni to put me in a completely inappropriate cocktail dress just to be a bitch.

As the car pulled away, the passenger side window rolled down. I ran up to it, thinking he had changed his mind. My purse hit me in the face as he threw it through the window. Then drove off.

Frantically, I searched inside while rubbing my cheek where the zipper hit. I lifted my mobile out of the bag although it was pointless, I could already tell it was dead.

I slumped onto the top of my suitcase. Great.

Just then the capostazione, the stationmaster, with his official gold-braided coat and cap came running out to the platform. "Sei una bella ragazza! Che begli occhi! It breaks my heart to tell such a beautiful woman as you that you have missed the last train of the night."

"Actually, I?—"

He sidled closer and placed a proprietary hand on my suitcase handle. "You should come inside to my office, where I could keep you warm."

I bit back a retort. Already in enemy territory; there was no reason to pile on more.

Giving him my most gracious smile, the one I used for all my father's grabby-hands cronies, I said, "Actually, if you would be so kind as to direct me to Cavalieri Winery."

His gaze narrowed. He lifted his hand from the suitcase as if it suddenly burned him. "What business does a woman"—his gaze traveled over my highly inappropriate attire—"like yourself have to do with the Cavalieris at this time of night?"

I wrapped my arms around my ribs and rubbed my upper arms against the chill. Of course, Antonia didn't think to put a jacket on my comatose form. Why would she? She rarely wore one herself, saying it covered up what everyone came to see.

Despite his attempt to flirt with me before clearly changing his mind, I didn't begrudge the capostazione his judgmental tone. Without looking in a mirror, I was certain after being drugged, twice, and spending the last thirteen hours thrown in the back of a sedan while wearing one of Toni's highly inappropriate, super tight and short dresses, I was not making the most gracious first impression.

Although I hated to do it, until I got ahold of my sister, I had no choice but to play the part of Matteo's fiancée. Might as well start now.

Clasping my hands to my chest, I softened my gaze and tilted my head to the right, the way I've seen Toni do when she wants something from my father. "Please accept my apologies for my attire. I've had a nightmare trip."

That is an understatement.

His lips thinned as he continued to eye me speculatively.

I sighed dramatically, looking off into the distance, somewhere over his shoulder.

Antonia once called this her damsel look, as if she were searching for her knight in shining armor.

"If only my fiancé, Matteo Cavalieri, were here to vouch for me, I'm sure you'd be more sympathetic to my plight."

I batted my eyelashes for good measure.

The capostaziones eyes became round as he threw his hands in the air before crushing them down on his cap. "Holy Madonna! What kind of man am I to be keeping Signore Cavalieri's beautiful fiancée out in the cold with my silly questions? Please forgive me."

He swept his coat off his shoulders and put it over me. "Please, follow me and I will personally call up to the winery to arrange for someone to escort you."

My shoulders turned as I reached behind me for my suitcase.

The capostazione stopped me. "No! Please. Allow me." He gestured toward a small door a few steps away. "Please, go inside and get warm by the stove while I see to your luggage."

"You are very kind."

Clutching my purse to my chest, I entered the office. Despite feeling guilty, I knew I treated the man better than my sister would have.

I perched on the edge of a wooden high-back chair close to the fire.

The capostazione entered right behind me with my suitcase and cello, then marched straight to his desk phone and dialed. "Put Alfonso on the phone. Hello? Alfonso? I need you at the station right away. Matteo's fiancée has arrived. No. No. Yes, very. No."

The buckle from my purse dug into the center of my palm from my grip on the strap while I listened. I was completely clueless about his response, but the negatives werent likely positive.

He hung up and faced me, rubbing his palms together. "Someone from the winery is coming to get you."

I wrinkled my nose. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble. My hired driver was… unwilling to venture deeper into the countryside in the evening."

Translation, my kidnapper didn't want to get caught.

He waved his hands in the air. "No trouble at all, signorina. No trouble."

Cold air blasted through the doors reopening. A man in a police uniform walked in.

The stationmaster greeted him warmly. "Benito, you must meet my honored guest."

The police officer stood silently as he eyed my curious, completely inappropriate attire.

My eyes watered slightly as I forgot to blink. The tip of my finger smoothed under my lashes to brush away the tear as I used the gesture to cover my nervousness, then winced when my fingertips brushed at flecks of dirt left on my cheek from my close encounter with the ground during Tasso/Terzo/Tomassos tender care.

The stationmaster continued. "She is Matteo Cavalieri's fiancée. Come here from Sicily."

Frenetic questions crashed around my brain.

Did he know I wasn't Antonia?

Did he know I was kidnapped?

Did he know I was the daughter of an infamous mafioso?

Did they both know it was an arranged marriage to avoid a mafia war?

Did he know I was sent here to spy on the Cavalieri family?

I frowned slightly, since I had mentioned nothing about Sicily. For a medieval hilltop town, Cavalieri was very large, with at least eight thousand people from what I understood, but I guessed the gossip about its most famous citizens would run rampant.

Benito pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from behind his ear and placed it in his mouth before reaching into his slightly wrinkled pants pocket and pulling out a pack of old-fashioned wooden matches. After lighting it, he took a long drag and then finally smiled as he gestured toward me with the hand holding his smoke. "Gabriella is going to love you."

Not wanting to give up an opportunity to seem legitimate, I snatched at the name. "I've met her. She's a… something else."

Through a haze of cigarette smoke, his eyes sparkled. "Yes, she is. An amazing woman."

The stationmaster patted Benito on the shoulder. "Do not talk to this man about Gabriella. She is the great love and loss of his life."

Benito smiled before lifting the cigarette to his lips again without denying it.

Not knowing what to say, I tilted my head and smiled back. "Well, you never know. Life can take some unexpected turns."

Understatement of the year.

I then chastised myself. Antonia would never say that. She probably would have asked him how he fucked up, or comment on how Gabriella was too posh to consider dating a policeman or something else equally cruel but hidden behind a thin veneer of what she liked to call honesty. I'd lost count of how many times she had said something awful to me and then shrugged and commented that she was only being honest before asking if I'd rather she lied.

I often wondered how we could be sisters, let alone twins. Sometimes I thought Antonia took after my father and I took after my mother, but then uncertainty would creep in.

My memories of my mother were becoming like an old photo in a box under my bed. I might not quite remember where or when it was taken. I assumed it was a joyous occasion because I was smiling, but for all I knew it could be one of a hundred thousand times I was told to smile and put on a show for my father and his associates.

The pretty blonde twin girls. Definitely not prized possessions, but still possessions, like two little trophy babydolls sitting on his shelf.

Like that photograph, my mother's memory was becoming less fixed and more of an impression, a lingering emotion. The more the details blurred, the more my mind filled them in. My mother was becoming less real and more idealized. A dangerous prospect.

But wasnt that what always happened with victims?

Whether my father forced her to abandon us or, worse, killed her, I was certain my mother was a victim. It was a horrible thought, but I had to cling to it for justification for what I was about to do in Abruzzo.

Benito stubbed his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray on the nearby desk. "No, signorina. A man only gets one chance to hold sunshine." He tipped his hat. "Welcome to Cavalieri. I hope you are happy here."

He pulled another hand-rolled cigarette from his shirt pocket and cupped his hands to light it, before opening the train office door to an icy gust of wind just as a large man entered. His shoulders bent down slightly as he crossed the threshold. The moment he entered, he filled the room.

Dressed in a pair of mechanics overalls with a wool blazer, scarf and tweed cap, his gaze immediately found me in the corner. He swiped the cap off his head and nodded. "Good evening, Signorina Fichera. My name is Alfonso. I'm here to take you to the estate."

Unlike Benito and the stationmaster, his gaze did not travel over my attire with a questioning gaze. I nodded in return. "I'm very sorry for the inconvenience. I traveled here sooner than expected."

"It is no trouble, although please excuse my attire," he answered with a half smile as he reached for my suitcase. "Please stay here while I load the car."

I rose and reached for my cello. "I can help."

His jaw clenched as he gave me a hard look.

I backed away. "Or not."

His smile returned. "I'll only be a moment."

As soon as my bag and cello were safely loaded, I turned to the stationmaster as I slipped his coat off my shoulders. "Thank you for your kindness."

"It was my pleasure."

I took a deep breath to brace for the cold, but it never came.

Before he opened the door, Alfonso slipped his own blazer off his shoulders and swept it over mine. It smelled faintly of wood smoke and fresh hay.

Again, I tried to object.

Again, I was met with a thin-lipped response.

"Thank you," I whispered, following him out into the night.

The interior of the luxury car was warm and toasty as I slid along the leather back passenger seat, too shy to boldly sit up front with him.

The lights of the town gave way to pitch darkness and only flickering starlight as we drove along a narrow winding path deep into the countryside and higher up the mountain.

The car finally slowed at a massive wrought iron gate emblazoned with the Cavalieri family crest surrounded by two rearing horses. Two men holding vicious-looking semi-automatic rifles guarded it. At a nod from Alfonso, one of them pushed open one side and let us through.

Driving into the darkness, I glanced back through the rear window. The massive gate closed with a resounding clang, echoing ominously in the winter night.

I no longer had the advantage of being on my home turf.

I was in Matteo Cavalieri's territory now.