Diavolo (Devil’s Playground #1)

19. Chapter 19

19

A little after midnight, Elyse returned to palazzo feeling drained. She retired to Alessandro's bedroom—no, their bedroom—undressed, and showered in an attempt to wash away all of the stress and adrenaline from Mrs. Vitale's party.

After Elyse emerged from the bathroom, Malina was waiting by her doorway. A slight furrow rested between the housekeeper's brow. "Dr. Romero, may I come in?"

Elyse nodded. "Of course, Malina."

The older woman entered the room.

Elyse gave her a weary smile. "Thank you for your assistance tonight."

Malina coughed. "You should not thank me. I came to... apologize."

Elyse frowned in confusion. "Why?"

"I should have never let you go to Signora Vitale's party," Malina mumbled. "Signor Vitale will not be pleased with me."

"If he gives you any trouble," Elyse offered, "I'll let him know that I'd be lost without you. Truly. You've been indispensable in helping me navigate my new life in Palermo."

"That is kind of you," Malina muttered with a sigh, "but it does not change the fact that I led us straight into Signora Vitale's trap."

"You think tonight was a trap?"

Malina cleared her throat. "Tonight was… chaotic. But it felt like a intentional chaos. Cara Berlusconi's overdose was a shock to us all. Yet, Signora Vitale seemed to be quite calm about the whole affair."

Elyse had been wondering about this as well. Mrs. Vitale seemed far too willing to stand by and watch a key Berlusconi ally teeter on the brink of death tonight. Why would she risk such a catastrophe?

"Are you suggesting," Elyse asked softly, "that Mrs. Vitale intended for Cara to overdose?"

Malina's expression pinched. "I do not know what her endgame might be. The Vitale clan has nothing to gain from Cara's death, but I think Signora Vitale intended to create a perfect storm. She set the pieces in place for everything to go wrong."

" Mierda ."

"Cara is a troubled soul," Malina shared. "She once suffered from addiction. Cocaine was her drug of choice. Signora Vitale knows it has always been one of Cara's great weaknesses."

With a trickle of suspicion, Elyse inquired, "Why didn't you mention this before the party?"

"I did not think it was relevant. Cara has been sober for years," Malina explained hurriedly. "I also did not think that Signora Vitale would act so recklessly. She has never behaved in such a foolish manner in the time I have known her. The woman nearly started a war with the Berlusconi clan tonight. It was my mistake to underestimate her level of desperation."

"Maybe she senses that her power is slipping," Elyse murmured, "as her husband fades away."

"There is probably some truth in your assessment."

"I feel for her."

Malina's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You do not hate her?"

Elyse pondered this question for a moment. Hate was such a strong word. She finally decided, "Mrs. Vitale isn't my enemy by choice."

Malina was eyeing her curiously, waiting for her to continue. Elyse elaborated, "We're at odds because she sees me as her replacement. I felt the tension between us. Mrs. Vitale tried to overpower me, but she couldn't do it. Because she had far more to lose tonight than I had to gain."

Malina smiled faintly. "I knew Signor Vitale chose you for a reason. The way you handled everything tonight proves that his judgment is sound."

Elyse's eyebrows rose in surprise. The housekeeper went on to say, "You know how to analyze the entire chessboard. Rather than fixating on individual pieces and squares. You will make an excellent wife for him."

Elyse grimaced. "Thank you, Malina."

She now felt embarrassed. Unworthy . Elyse knew Malina meant to compliment her, but she couldn't allow herself to bask in such praise. Tonight's events could've very easily spiraled out of control. They'd gotten lucky because Mrs. Vitale chose to retreat instead of digging in her heels.

Elyse's thoughts kept lingering on Mrs. Vitale and Cara. Elyse felt sad for these women even though she disliked them. Mrs. Vitale and Cara each commanded their own entourage of armed bodyguards. Yet, they possessed little power of their own. Their might was borrowed from their husbands. Or their fathers. This sense of helplessness was probably why they saw her as a threat. Alessandro represented power. Elyse was about to gain access to his power through marriage, and more power for her meant less power for them.

All in all, tonight had been an eye-opening night.

Elyse felt as though she'd glimpsed into her future through Mrs. Vitale and Cara's sad lives, and it was deeply upsetting. She wondered if they'd been forced to marry against their will as well. Soon, she, too, would be joining this fierce struggle for supremacy, and the violence and uncertainty that came with it was already driving her crazy.

Elyse didn't want to rely on a man as her only support system, but choice was no longer her privilege. She needed Alessandro's protection. She also cared for him. Far too much. Her heart grew heavy. She didn't want to end up like Mrs. Vitale or Cara, but—

Elyse's phone began to ring, interrupting her sullen thoughts.

"It is late," Malina murmured tactfully, "I will let you get some rest."

As the housekeeper turned to go, Elyse called her back for a moment, "Wait."

"Yes, Dr. Romero?"

"Your apology was unnecessary. But appreciated."

Malina smiled gratefully. "I am glad."

Elyse smiled back. "Good night, Malina."

"Good night, Dr. Romero."

Once Malina was gone, Elyse answered her phone. "Hello?"

" Cuore mio ." deep, husky voice instantly drew tremors of emotion from Elyse that she didn't want to feel. He stated bluntly, "Monte has told me everything."

"It seems the only time that man ever talks," she murmured, "is to snitch one me."

Ignoring her jab, Alessandro asked softly, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Elyse replied in mild tones, "but Cara ended up in the hospital tonight. And I do not think your stepmother likes me."

Alessandro muttered, "Those women have always possessed a flair for theatrics. I am sorry I was not there to protect you from them."

For some reason, the sweetness in his tone pricked Elyse. Had he whispered this kind of shit into Mariposa and Cara's ears when they were together? Elyse didn't want to be treated like his other women. She didn't need him to be her sword and shield, either. What she wanted was to learn how to fight alongside Alessandro. Elyse insisted, "You can't always protect me. I'm going to be your wife. I must learn how to stand my ground. Especially when you're not beside me."

He sighed. "I know. And you did it beautifully tonight. You have made me proud."

This managed to soothe her irritation, slightly, but she still grunted with a touch of annoyance. Alessandro pleaded, "Do not be cross with me, cuore mio . I have had a long day. As have you. I only meant to say that I wish I could be at your side right now. More than anything."

Her expression softened. Begrudgingly, Elyse inquired, "How's everything going in Paris?"

"As well as I can hope, I suppose," he replied in careful tones. "I should be able to return to Palermo in six days' time."

The next question flew out of Elyse's mouth unwillingly, "Is Valentina with you?"

" Sì , she is here. In Paris."

Elyse bit back a scowl. "I see."

Alessandro seemed to sense her vexation. He rushed to explain, "She's here to serve her own agenda, and her agenda has nothing to do with ours."

"I see," Elyse scoffed.

An awkward lull dragged between them. Alessandro grumbled, "I take it that my past has finally caught up. What have the troublesome women in my life told you about me tonight?"

Elyse laughed. Somewhat evilly. "That's none of your business. Girl talk is sacred."

His voice grew taut and anxious. "Tell me what they told you."

Elyse paused to gather her thoughts. In truth, at the beginning of the party, before shit hit the fan, Cara's outlandish behavior had made her jealous, but Elyse didn't wish to let the ugly green emotion come between her and Alessandro. Eventually, she answered, "Relax. Everything they said about you, I already knew. Besides, the past is in the past. I'm not interested in fighting over your exes. I'm only concerned about our future."

"You do not have to worry about our future."

"You sure?" Elyse murmured, "Because I intend to honor our marriage. I hope you'll do the same."

Her underlying meaning clicked for him instantly.

"I am loyal to you and only you," Alessandro vowed. "You may not trust me, but you can trust in my allegiance to Cosa Nostra . Power. Image. Honor. They mean everything to my family and our allies. If I ever dishonor you, my wife, enemies will see the disconnect, and use it against us. I want us to become a united front. An unstoppable force."

"I don't know anything about honor in the mafia," Elyse remarked, "just don't fuck around on me, and I won't fuck around on you."

"The only woman I want to fuck— is you."

Elyse's heart thumped longingly. "Then come back to me."

"In six days," Alessandro promised, "I will come back to marry you and put an end to the uncertainty surrounding us."

Six days had never felt so far away. Elyse wondered if she might have another run-in with Mrs. Vitale before Alessandro's return.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"What do you think your stepmother wants from us? I want to be prepared in case she causes trouble again."

Alessandro didn't answer right away. When he finally responded, his voice sounded a bit bleak, "My father's illness has affected Carmen… deeply. She is not like Valentina and me. We are more logical about death. She, unfortunately, is more emotional. Sometimes, grief brings out the worst in people. Sometimes, I fear, grief may cause a person to set the world on fire. Simply to watch it burn."

A shiver passed through Elyse. "That's not a comforting thought."

It appeared Mrs. Vitale might be going a bit mad, and, it appeared, the more Elyse learned about Alessandro's blue-eyed stepsister, the more questions arose in her mind. Valentina was still such a mystery. Elyse felt determined to interrogate Alessandro about the woman. Not tonight, though. Another time. Exhaustion was beginning to cloud her senses.

"This may be the calm before the storm," Alessandro warned. "We must be vigilant going forward. Carmen has taken us all by surprise with her stunt tonight. I do not know what else my stepmother has planned up her sleeve. I will try to find out, though."

Elyse grimaced into the phone. "That's probably a good idea."

"I have instructed Malina to decline all invitations to parties for now," he said. "Stay in the palazzo until I am back. Until we have a better hold on this situation."

"I understand."

"I do not think this will be necessary, but, if there is an issue that my men cannot resolve," Alessandro added, "go to your grandfather. Malina and Monte will know how to reach him."

She gulped. "I hope it won't come to that."

"Six days," Alessandro muttered again. "Wait for me, cuore mio."

"Six days," Elyse echoed softly. "I'll be waiting."

After Elyse's traumatic first night in Palermo, the following days passed by in a cloud of unease. Alessandro didn't contact her again. He didn't answer her calls or texts, either. Malina and Monte assured Elyse that he was simply busy attending to business matters . Signor Vitale perfectly fine , they said, and two of them would be reunited in six days' time . Elyse chose to believe them because the alternative was unthinkable.

To shift her mind away from worst-case scenarios, Elyse spent the next few days learning the layout of the palazzo and familiarizing herself with the household staff, working daily to build relationships with each and every one of them.

She instructed Malina and Monte to keep their feelers out for any news regarding Mrs. Vitale, Mariposa, or Cara. In time, they reported back their findings. Cara had since been safely discharged from the hospital. Mariposa extended a luncheon invitation to Elyse, but Malina declined it given the tense dynamics between all three clans at present. Troubling enough, though, no one had heard anything about Mrs. Vitale's comings or goings. The woman became a ghost after her all-too-eventful party.

Elyse didn't know what to make of Mrs. Vitale's disappearance. Was the bitch laying low because she had, in essence, pissed off the entire Berlusconi clan? Or was she merely biding her time, preparing to lash out again?

As the days stretched on, Elyse also learned that Malina and her staff had been working overtime for months, planning the wedding in secret. At this point, a week before the ceremony and reception, last-minute alterations and split-second decisions needed to be made on an hourly basis about Elyse's dress, her veil, the floral arrangements, the photographer, the menu, the seating arrangements, the venue...

All of this seemingly insignificant nonsense consumed Elyse's time. Truly, it felt like nonsense because she didn't even know whether or not her groom would show up on their wedding day. Was Alessandro hurt again? Or was he avoiding her for another reason altogether? Elyse tossed and turned each night over her worry for him. Caring for this bastard wasn't good for her health. He seemed dead set on giving her more gray hairs.

Days six, seven, and eight came and went with no signs of Alessandro.

"Why is he late?" Elyse demanded. "He should be back in Palermo by now."

"Tomorrow," Malina insisted. "He plans to leave Paris tomorrow."

Elyse pleaded, "Why can't you tell me the truth?"

"It is for your benefit," Malina mumbled while averting her gaze, " Signor Vitale has instructed me not to say anything. He insists on being the one to break the news to you."

Elyse clenched her jaw. "I see."

She willed herself not to rage at Malina. She reminded herself this whole situation wasn't the housekeeper's fault. Instead, she told herself to save her wrath for a bastard with brown and blue-gray eyes.

On Friday, two days before the wedding, Elyse traveled with Malina and Monte in a parade of cars, full of staff and bodyguards, to the wedding venue, Castello Balistreri. The 16th-century castle was located near Catania and Sirucusa amid centuries-old forests and citrus farms in the heart of the Sicilian countryside. Its neo-Gothic facade provided a majestic and timeless medieval backdrop for a large, grand wedding. A wedding fit for mafia royalty.

Within the castle, elegant halls were characterized by grand arches and rustic local stone and Sicilian terracotta. The internal courtyard of the castle led to a fully restored chapel, wine-making facility, an olive-press building, and a granary warehouse. Sadly, the magic of the venue was lost on Elyse. Her mind was elsewhere since she hadn't heard from her groom.

On Sunday morning, the day of the wedding, Malina insisted on pressing forward with their plans. As the housekeeper helped Elyse don her veil and gown, an overwhelming wave of anxiety and anger rumbled through her.

"Do not worry, Dr. Romero," Malina assured Elyse, "I promise Signor Vitale is flying to Palermo right now. He will meet you at the altar."

"This man better have a damn good reason as to why he hasn't responded to any of my messages," Elyse seethed in cold, quiet fury. "I'm this close to calling off the whole fucking wedding."

Malina grimaced. "I understand your frustration. Truly, I do. But you must believe that Signor Vitale has your best interests in mind. He will explain everything once he is here—"

Their conversation was cut short as soon as a team of makeup artists and hairstylists rushed inside Elyse's bridal suite to doll her up. At first, they refused to let Elyse sit in front of the mirror, claiming that it wasn't allowed for brides to see themselves before the wedding.

So, Elyse sat blindly, mirrorless, as her hair, makeup, dress, veil, garter, and jewelry came together piece by piece. When the finishing touches were, at last, completed, the women reluctantly allowed Elyse to take a peek. But only after she removed a glove, an earring, and a shoe. Tradition and superstition seemed deeply embedded in Italian wedding culture.

Once the glove, earring, and shoe were gone, a mirror was brought to her. Elyse's jaw fell agape as she stared at her reflection. She looked like a real bride, and Elyse forgot for the briefest of moments that her groom was quite possibly missing. That she was about to marry into the mafia.

Her heart stirred with a bittersweet ache. Today was her wedding day. It didn't feel entirely real. Elyse didn't know most of the guests. She didn't even know her bridesmaids. The girls had been selected from five different allied clans. Her father wouldn't be walking her down the aisle. Hell, Papá didn't even know she was about to be wed.

Malina informed Elyse that her grandfather would be the one to walk her down the aisle. Elyse had yet to meet Benedetto Graviano. It felt bizarre for their first meeting to occur on this day. The gesture would be wholly symbolic. Pure spectacle for the other clans to ooh and ahh over. A spectacle to cement the new alliance between the Graviano and Vitale clans.

At least, Elyse noted grimly, her dress was stunning. In contrast to the volatile emotions raging inside, on the surface, Elyse looked like an angelic, serene vision in white. The delicate gossamer gown featured a deep V neckline and translucently airy, billowing sleeves. Crystal beading sparkled all over the fitted bodice and intricate feathery embellishments were scattered lightly down the voluminous, layered skirt.

Elyse's silk tulle veil ended in a hand-embroidered lace applique edge. Its train trailed down to the floor behind her. This went against tradition. The length of her veil was supposed to reflect the length of her engagement. One meter per year. By this logic, Elyse's veil shouldn't even be a meter long.

Malina secured the veil atop Elyse's head with a small, elegant diamond tiara and beamed at her. " Signor Vitale is lucky to marry a woman like you. Beautiful mind. Beautiful heart. Beautiful bride."

"Thank you, Malina," Elyse murmured with an uncertain gleam in her green eyes.

"Have faith," Malina asserted once more. "He will be here."

The rest of the morning zipped by in a blur. Before Elyse realized it, she was suddenly standing behind a pair of heavy wooden fortified doors outside the chapel beside a man of seventy-ish years with a grizzly head and dark, foreboding features.

This man was Benedetto Graviano. Her grandfather. He didn't speak a word of English. Elyse barely spoke Italian. They probably could've communicated through her Spanish and his Italian since the two languages shared more similarities than their English counterpart, but she held back. Again, Elyse didn't wish to disclose the scope of her linguistic abilities at the moment.

Thus, they had nothing to say to each other.

Benedetto was dressed in a smart black and white tux like all the other gentlemen in attendance. Without a word, he offered his arm to Elyse. She accepted it awkwardly.

A moment later, the sweet, poignant strings of Pachelbel's Canon burst into the air. The chapel doors swung open. High, arched ceilings stretched heavenward. Archaic stone and ancient-looking wooden beams held up the interiors. Bursts of fresh floral arrangements brightened the dark, gothic space while hundreds of guests filled rows upon rows of dark mahogany pews along both sides of the aisle. A priest was waiting for them at the end of the aisle.

As was Alessandro.

Elyse's heart nearly leaped out of her chest at the sight of him. He appeared so handsome. So beautiful. His dark hair was slicked back. His face was freshly shaven. He had never looked more regal or distinguished in his black and white tux. She couldn't believe her eyes. Her man was here. Her man was alive.

Once her initial wave of sheer, joyous alleviation dissipated, another emotion clawed its way to the surface. Elyse's gaze narrowed sharply. Her man was also a dead man for everything he had put her through over the past few days.

With her gloved hand tucked into the crook of Benedetto's elbow, Elyse and her grandfather marched in time to the melody toward her husband-to-be. The distance between her and Alessandro diminished with each passing step. Elyse's skirt and veil flowed behind her in a majestic display of silk and gossamer and tulle. To onlookers, Elyse might have looked every inch the blushing bride, but, in truth, she was a queen on a warpath.

While she fumed beneath her bridely facade, her groom appeared to be lost in a completely opposite frame of mind. Alessandro's brown and blue-gray eyes were hopelessly fixated on her as she walked down the aisle. He was very much like a fool in love, an enamored husband-to-be, who couldn't believe his godly good fortune.

His blissful expression only served to further antagonize Elyse's sour mood. The moment Elyse was within striking distance of Alessandro, she gracefully retracted her hand from her grandfather and proceeded to stun every single one of their guests by landing a hard, resounding slap across Alessandro's cheek.

The chapel erupted in a gossip-hungry buzz of bewildered speculation.

Brown and blue-gray eyes popped in shock. "Cuore mio!"

Elyse's grandfather looked equally awed and astonished.

" That ," she growled softly, "was for keeping me in the dark. And making me go insane with worry."

Then, Elyse grabbed Alessandro's face and kissed him as though he was her air, her sun, her moon, her stars. They both wore a dazed expression by the time their lips finally parted.

"What was that for?" he mumbled happily into her ear.

" That ," Elyse replied in breathless tones, "was for coming back to me. Alive and well."

He grinned and kissed her again. All around them, the guests detonated in a round of hearty guffaws and cheers and whistles.

The rest of Elyse and Alessandro's ceremony flowed onward without any more surprises. The priest led them in an opening prayer, an hour-long mass befitting a Catholic-style wedding. Elyse and Alessandro exchanged rings and vows. More prayers followed suit.

There was nothing romantic at all about these time-honored rituals. Yet, there was something stirring about them. Even though Elyse wasn't a deeply religious person, the whole exchange felt quite sacred to her. It made her feel as though she had, indeed, promised herself to Alessandro before a higher power, and he, in turn, had promised himself to her in the same manner. They ended the ceremony by shattering a glass vase, another age-old tradition, with each broken shard representing the number of their married years to come.

The reception afterward ran like clockwork thanks to Malina's meticulous planning and eagle-eyed supervision. Good wine and fine food flowed freely throughout the evening. Elyse and Alessandro danced their first dance with colorful streamers tied to their hands. Later, all the guests joined them in the courtyard for a traditional Italian dance called La Tarantella . Alessandro bent down on one knee to hike up Elyse's skirts, to draw the garter from her leg. The touch of his hands and fingers upon her bare skin was both thrilling and intimate. Anyone with eyes could see the tension thrumming between them. The spell was broken when the cake was brought out. More merriment ensued.

A few hours after midnight, Alessandro and Elyse were whisked away from the crowds, showered in rice and well wishes, in a black vintage Bugatti.

As Nils drove them to their wedding suite at a nearby villa, it was the first time all night that the newlyweds shared a quiet moment to themselves. Alessandro reached over to clasp her hand.

Alessandro brought Elyse's palm to his lips in the way he always did and kissed it gently, lovingly. "Are you still upset with me,wife?"

Wife .

A warm glow enveloped her heart. The word wielded real meaning now. Because it was true. Still, Elyse steeled herself against the glowing warmth. After releasing a bit of her rage through her slap heard around the chapel, Elyse had forcibly pasted on a happy face for the rest of their wedding. She was still livid at Alessandro, though.

Elyse shot him a surly look. "If you disappear on me again, like you did last week, I won't waste another moment on you. I'll find a way to disappear, too, and, rest assured, I'm not the kind of woman who looks back once she has moved on."

"I will reveal everything to you," he said, "in good time. Tonight is not the night, though. I have other plans in mind."

With a low chuckle, Alessandro tried to pull Elyse to him, but she resisted his embrace. She placed a hand upon his chest and pushed him back. "What makes you think I have any interest in your plans tonight?"

He pouted. "Cruel wife."

She bit back, "No, worried wife. Why the fuck didn't you answer any of my calls and texts?"

He sighed. "It was for your protection."

"That's what I've been told. I call bullshit."

A minute later, they arrived at the villa. There was no privacy shield in the vintage Bugatti. Nils had been privy to every word of their heated conversation, but the driver wore a perfectly serene expression while helping them carry their luggage into the wedding suite. It was as though he'd heard nothing.

Once Nils took his leave, Elyse was alone for the first time that night with Alessandro. Her husband. An unwanted yet delicious kind of heat instantly prickled across her skin. Alessandro eyed Elyse with a wary sort of amusement as she stood there, floundering between lust and rage, in their beautiful wedding suite.

Quietly, he drawled, "I will let you decide, wife , since you insist on being difficult. We can fight. We can fuck. Or do both at the same time. The choice is yours. "