Borgata - Book II #wattys2016

Chapter 39: Her Borgata

CHE PIACERE VEDERTI  !!!! (HOW NICE IT IS TO SEE YOU!!!!)

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Fico's driver pulled up to a dress boutique a ways from the souvenir shop, and I knew he was keeping his promise about spending the day with me.

My initial reaction to seeing Fico kill Lotto had been shock. Sure, I'd seen Fico kill people before, but never someone I knew personal things about. Like how Lotto had a family and children. It made me picture how his wife would discover his death, how mortified and devastated his entire family would be.

Then I'd remind myself the kind of man that Lotto was. And the type of man that Fico was. Their way of life was different than normal people's. They were criminals and each other's loyalty was a pact that they could never erase.

Lotto had betrayed Fico in the ultimate way. Perhaps he had even betrayed Santino Vitali. Why had he said the same words that Gasparro had said to Santino before he killed him? The more I reeled this over in the car, the more disturbing it became, and the more fearful I became of Fico's life. How many other people wanted Fico killed?

Trying to smother my muddled thoughts seemed virtually impossible after what I'd just witnessed, but maybe I could still enjoy the rest of the day. I hadn't even realized Fico had exited the vehicle, until he opened my door and offered me his hand. I realized I hadn't said a word to him the entire car ride again, as I grasped his steady palm and slid out of the SUV.

We stared at each other, and my stomach gave that odd fluttery sensation under the weight of his attention. The one thing I knew for sure was that I'd never meet someone who made me feel the Fico did. Every time he looked at me made me feel like it was the first time we'd met, and no matter how insane or ironic that was, I felt safe with him.

But that didn't change what I'd witnessed tonight. This had been a pivotal moment in our relationship, and I just wasn't so sure if it had entirely settled in yet.

Fico watched me in that knowing way but said nothing. He turned and headed toward the boutique with his hands in the pockets of his black slacks.

Tucking my lip between my teeth, I followed him across the cobble street to the curb. Two of his men had already entered the establishment and were conversing with a young woman that looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was absolutely stunning, with the most contagious smile, and wore a vibrant robin egg blue dress that made her large, sparkling blue eyes stand out. The dress must have costed a fortune, since it looked to be the same expensive fabrics of the dresses we were surrounded by.

"Buonosera, Fico," she grinned and greeted him with a kiss on each of his cheeks. They exchanged a few fast phrases in Italy, and Fico made her laugh at something, but I could hardly focus on anything they were saying, as I was too busy trying to wrap my head around that double kiss.

"Mariella, this is Samantha," Fico said, motioning to me.

I forced a friendly smile. Thank you for that grand introduction, Fico. Are you going to kiss my cheeks twice and make me giggle too?

"Welcome to Italy, Samantha," Mariella said brightly with extremely good English. I knew instantly she was from the States. "I love your dress. It compliments your figure perfectly."

"Thank you," I said, feeling like it was more of a compliment out of politeness. And what exactly did 'compliments my figure' even mean? That no dress could fit my odd body type?