Quiet Wealth by J.L. Drake

We left to let the girls have their moment alone and headed to the living room to wait for them.

“If nothing else, your mother needed that.” My father glanced down the hallway at the DeSimones.

“Mariano is acting strange with her, but I’m not sure why.”

“I don’t trust his motives, Elio. Be sure to keep an eye on Sienna.”

“Trust me, Papa, it’s taking all my will not to hurt him. Who does he think he is, touching what’s mine?” I was nearly vibrating with the need to fix the situation.

“I wouldn’t mind taking a swing or two myself,” my father’s voice rasped.

Sienna stepped into the hallway and looked down the hallway toward Mariano then down to where my father and I stood.

She took a deep breath and brushed her hands down the sexy skirt that accentuated her toned legs. She seemed to hesitate then made the decision to come toward us, and as she did, Mariano came racing down the hallway. It was clear he had been into the bourbon, as his voice was loud and over the top.

“There you are!” He leaned down grabbed her face roughly and kissed her cheek twice. He made sure he made a show that she was his to kiss.

“Take a breath, son,” my father warned as my grip on the wine glass came dangerously close to snapping off the stem. “Whatever is going on here will soon show itself, and we will deal with it accordingly.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Mama!” Mariano waved his mother to follow us as he led the way outside. “It’s time to feast.”

“Hello, Sienna,” Bria greeted her. “Let’s find out what’s on the menu tonight.”

“I already saw, and it will be amazing.” Sienna made sure Donte heard her compliment.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Bria rolled her eyes toward the kitchen.

My mother opened the back door, and we all headed out to the garden where paper lanterns hung in the trees, their light casting shadows across the beautiful table every time the wind blew the branches.

The rustic wooden table was set to perfection. Long gray napkins folded in half draped over each place setting, and cream dinner plates rested on top. Next to each plate were individual loaves of bread with rosemary twigs on top wrapped in twine. Fresh greenery from our fields was displayed in glass jars with a gorgeous sunflower wedged in each to give the table a pop of color.

“Wow, bello,” Sienna breathed with a sigh as she came out and admired the work that had been done. “Have you ever seen anything so pretty?”

“Yes.” Bria shrugged, and I shot my father a death-look. He rolled his eyes, just as irritated as I was with them all.

Mariano was already seated next to Anna with his napkin on his lap, so I reached forward and pulled out Sienna’s chair.

“Thank you.” She eased into the seat.

I took the seat across from her so I could read her body language. I planned on digging a bit tonight.

Niccola glared at Donatello when he approached from behind us. The capos often joined us for dinner when they could.

“What?” Donatello looked at me, wondering what was wrong.

“The next time,” Niccola pointed his fork at him, “you ask to borrow my car for a date, don’t.”

“It wasn’t for a date.” He brushed him off.

Niccola looked like he might be sick. “Care to explain why your undies were wedged between my back seats?”

My mama snorted and tried to recover quickly. These two were always at each other for something, and then add in Vinni, and the entertainment grew. We were one big family, and we loved each other, but we also gave each other a hard time whenever possible.

“Are you sure they aren’t yours?”

Niccola shot me a look before addressing him. “We all know you are the only one who wears the tight ones that go up on the sides like a woman’s.”

Papa burst out laughing, and the rest joined in.

“First, I like the way they feel. They tuck and hold me in, and second, I lost another pair, so if you don’t mind digging around more, maybe they’re there.”

“Nope.” Niccola tossed his napkin on the table as he stood, making Mama turn red in the face from laughing. “Let’s go, move it. You owe me a full detail cleaning, and you just lost any chance of coming on my next trip.”

“Excuse me.” Donatello kissed Mama on the head and started to race down the hill as Niccola bolted after him.

“Never a dull moment.” Mama grinned at Sienna, who had her hand over her mouth in pure enjoyment.

After the main course was served and most were halfway through their meal, I decided to dive in headfirst to catch Mariano and Sienna off guard.

“You know,” I wiped the corners of my mouth, taking a moment for the chatter to stop, “I never did hear how the two of you met.”

Sienna waited for him to start, but he motioned for her to speak.

“Ah,” she cleared her throat, “I had done an exposé about my life story for Fab Magazine, and I guess Mariano read my article and was inspired by it. A few weeks ago, I got word that one of the owners of Ricco Oil wanted me to tell their story, and here we are.”

“A story?” My father sent a pointed look at Mariano. “Maybe that should have been something you ran by us?”

“I was inspired, Piero.” He leaned his elbows on the table, which showed disrespect to my mama, who had spent the day making sure this dinner was perfect. “I didn’t think showing her the basics of what we did was something you needed to approve.”

“Careful.” I shot a warning his way, and he shrugged, annoyed I had spoken to him that way in front of everyone.

“Mariano.” Sienna, to my surprise, spoke with a warning tone.

“What?” he snapped at her, and I bit the inside of my mouth.

“Maybe we should just enjoy this delicious food and keep things light? The Capris were kind enough to make us this meal, and look at this table.” She smiled at my mother. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, Sienna.” Mama, always the gracious hostess, smiled back.

“You think we were allowed to have dinner anywhere else but here?” Mariano cursed under his breath.

“Our rules are in place for a reason,” my papa reminded him.

“Regardless, Mariano,” Sienna’s tone had a clip to it, “perhaps this discussion should wait for another time.”

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” she shot back.

“It’s not for me.” Anna giggled as she reached for her bourbon.

Mariano ran a hand through his hair and leaned back.

“It’s simply an ‘on the surface’ story, one which I hope will help Sienna build a name for herself at her company. She won’t be in any danger—”

“Really?” I corrected him.

“That was a simple misunderstanding, Elio.”

“Perhaps, but you did put her in danger, and what was said should never have been said in front of her.”

“All right,” Sienna tossed her napkin next to her plate, “please forgive my bluntness, but I never asked for any of this. I appreciate the opportunity that Mariano was trying to give me, but clearly it wasn’t a wise move to make, and I will not be the reason for an argument. I promise I won’t write the story. Only the start of it has been sent to my boss, and the rest will be deleted. As far as what I heard or didn’t hear, I can promise you it will never be repeated.”

“I think that would be for the best, Sienna.” Papa gave a relieved nod, and she nodded back, understanding there was a lot more to the story. “Thank you.”

“Sienna,” Bria broke the silence, “why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”

“Yes, entertain us in the little time you have left with us,” Anna piped in and hiccupped from her drink.

“Anna,” Mama scolded her, “maybe you should have some water.”

“Well, I was hired right after I finished school and have been working as a journalist ever since.”

I listened to her speak and couldn’t help but notice how vague she kept her story.

“What made you get into that line of work?” Roberto, Mariano’s father asked as he cut into his second serving of dessert. The man was huge and one day soon would keel over if he didn’t stop eating the way he did.

I nudged the pie closer to him.

“It allows me the opportunity to travel, but also allows me access to certain public information that I couldn’t get on my own.”

“Oh, and what sort of things are you looking for?” he asked with dessert falling out of his mouth.

“I’ve spent my life looking for my mama.” She played with the corner of the napkin.

“For someone who seems pretty reserved,” Anna interrupted as she bit the top of a bread stick, “what made you do that article? I mean, that cover was pretty revealing.”

“Doing that story gave me a lot of reach, so I took the opportunity to put myself out there in hopes that she might contact me.” She addressed her politely. “I thought maybe if I put myself out there, she would show herself.”

“Did she?” I found myself engulfed in her story.

“No.” She shook her head, and her gaze fell to the table.

“There’s still time.” Mama tried to give hope.

“Or maybe she wasn’t meant to be found.”

“Well, this seems depressing.” Mariano poured himself more wine and handed her the bottle when he noticed her glass was empty. I reached across the table and took the bottle from her hand and filled her glass.

We retired to the sitting room after dinner, and I noticed Sienna had slipped away.

“Piano room.” Francesco read my mind, and I waited for the right moment to duck out.

I had no idea what I was going to say, but I really wanted to see her. I stopped when I heard my father’s voice.

“The Capris date back to the fifth century here in Italy. We come from strong roots.”

“What does the crest symbolize?”

“As you might know, crows are all about family.” I watched as he pointed to the crest on the wall. “The crow represents family, the crown represents strength, and the shield represents the protection we provide for those loyal to the family. Family, strength, loyalty, and protection.” He caught me watching and kissed her head. “I’ll leave you be now, my dear.” As he turned to leave, she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, and his face softened. He left and quietly closed the door on his way out.

I watched her admiring our family photos in the semi-dark, one hand wrapped around her stomach and the other on her hip. The reflection from the lamps danced across her slender body, and the way her eyes glinted revealed the depth of her emotion. The wind had picked up and rattled the windows of the house.

“I love your parents so much.” She must have felt me standing there. “Sometimes when I tell people about my past, I lie and pretend they were my parents.” She swiped at her cheek.

“You mean the world to them, too.”

“Please don’t,” she sniffed.

“Don’t what?” I moved a few steps closer.

“Act like I matter.”

“You matter. You always have.”

“Have I?” Heavy tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “I don’t think so.”