American Dynasty

S I X T E E N

Reaching twenty years old only meant more pestering from Marcella about Stella's current marital situation, or more so, her non-existent one. The only redeeming factor of her birthday was the platinum locket necklace that Flynn had surprised her with as a gift.

"I know it's simple," he had said as he put it around her neck. "But I thought it would suit you."

"This must have cost you a fortune!" Stella exclaimed.

"It was nothing, doll. I wanted to get you something nice."

"But you barely know me."

"Perhaps," he said, tucking her hair to the side as he admired how his necklace looked on her, "yet I partially undressed you several days ago. Besides, you wear it so well."

Stella smacked his arm at his lewd comment, making him grimace. "What was that for?"

"What, the big, bad, Irish gangster can't handle a little Italian girl?" Stella teased with a smirk.

Flynn snorted. "I never said that," he said, his voice laced with a defensive tone.

Stella rolled her eyes at his prideful response and smiled faintly as her fingers ran along the delicate chain. "Thank you, Flynn," she said graciously, turning around to face him.

"You're welcome, doll," he said, grinning as he tucked a curl of hair behind her ear.

Stella wore the necklace every day. She had not yet found a picture to put inside, but she figured she would at one point find a good picture of Matteo to use. November passed and snow began to cover the rooftops and streets of New York.

Despite Dante's presence, Christmas dinner at the Constanzo's had been less than interesting, with Marcella and Luciana talking non-stop about weddings. She felt herself get sick to the stomach every single time her mother hinted about her getting married in the "hopefully near future," as Marcella had put it.

"That's a beautiful necklace, by the way," Dante commented quietly in her ear.

Stella didn't meet his gaze and instead focused on her dinner. "Thank you, it was a birthday gift."

"It looks quite expensive. Who was it from?"

Stella chewed on her food for longer than necessary. "Um...Matteo. With me being twenty and all he wanted to give me something nice." Dante nodded and Stella exhaled quietly in relief.

Just as quickly as winter arrived it ended and cherry blossoms began to bloom on the trees outside of Stella's window. Every couple of weeks Flynn and Giuseppe would turn up at the Biancardi household to discuss business with Beppe, and after every meeting Flynn would sneak up to Stella's balcony and spend a few hours with her. She found it strange, how civil they had become. She was almost beginning to genuinely like him.

During their talks she noticed things about him she had not noticed before: he was thoughtful, innovative, ingenious; his ideas ground-breaking, unconventional, unorthodox and avant-garde. Stella listened intently, fascinated.

On a sunny April afternoon, she and Flynn were sitting on the sofa beside the balcony, enjoying the warmth and each other's company. "Have you ever been dancing before?" Flynn asked suddenly, shifting away from their normal topics of conversation.

Stella sat up slightly, caught off guard. "Well..."

"And I don't mean at some fancy country club," Flynn mused, running his fingers through his dark hair. "I mean like at a speakeasy."

"A speakeasy," Stella repeated. "I've only ever heard of them or walked past them."

"So you've never been inside?"