King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

5. Matteo

Chapter 5

Matteo

I n the bowels of darkness was where men like Bertrand Moro felt more comfortable doing business, but since Nonno said that the Faustis didn’t need to cower from the light, the meeting was postponed by a day. That meant another day in Venice. Another day where my feet were stalled. And they seemed directly connected to my heart. The vital organ felt like it had stopped in my chest, and it wouldn’t start again until I was in the same room with her. Each second felt like another breath lost.

Marciano squeezed my shoulder, nodding toward the outside cafe where we were meeting with Saverio. He and my sister couldn’t meet us the night before. The weather had kept them from arriving when we had. We were seated right away, and before Saverio arrived, a breakfast spread was laid out before us, cappuccino included. Maestro was going to meet us later and so was Massimo, since we were going to the Fausti’s jeweler.

The crowd seemed to naturally part for Rio and my sister as they walked toward us. He held her hand in a way that told the world— mine, period . Fuck with her and you fuck with me. That was why I was okay with Saverio marrying her. I knew that, besides my family, Saverio was the only man I’d trust with her. It didn’t hurt that we all knew they were destined to be together. It just hit me sometimes, out of the blue, that my sister and best friend had sons, and those sons would one day call me Padrino when they could speak. Another baby was on the way. Saverio and Mia had just told us a day or so ago. It was so early, though, that only our immediate circle knew. No one could keep secrets from mamma. She just knew things.

We all stood when they approached the table, and my brothers and I took turns kissing Mia before we shook Saverio’s hand and squeezed his shoulder. Once my sister and my brother-in-law had enjoyed their breakfast, we got down to the reason why we were there.

Stella.

Saverio took a drink of his cappuccino and then looked around. His sister, Evelina, also known as his partner in crime, broke through the crowd and rushed toward us. She was dragging behind her what looked like a suitcase on wheels. Again, all the men stood when she approached the table, and we each greeted her before Mariano pulled her chair out for her. We all sat after she did.

Saverio and Evelina took after their old man, Mac, when it came to how smart they were. “Clever” would be a good word to add to “smart.” Either way, if someone wanted to disappear, or find a needle in a haystack, the Macchiavello family seemed more powerful than any government that existed. Sometimes it was scary how fucking good they were.

Over the years, our families had connected in powerful ways, including the time—before any of us were born—that Mari, Saverio and Evelina’s mamma, was stolen by a crazed man who wanted her dead. He’d dumped her in the Hudson, in New York, and my old man saved her. She was pregnant with Saverio at the time, and if it wasn’t for Brando Fausti, my sister’s husband wouldn’t exist.

Besides Saverio’s love for my sister, I knew that was a reason why Saverio was so loyal to us. Not only did my old man save his mamma, but he’d saved him. Saverio said he’d always existed to love my sister. I’d always thought that was something a lame romantic would feel, but after meeting Stella…everything I felt became twisted and lost among new feelings.

“Oh!” Evelina brightened, reaching for the cappuccino the waiter set down for her. “Don’t mind if I do. Grazie mille !” She didn’t even care that she had a foam mustache as she closed her eyes and moaned at the taste of it.

Evelina Macchiavello was a special girl, and no doubt, she was beautiful. I’d been interested in her, as were my brothers. Massimo too. Evelina and Mia were tight, though, and I knew the situation had unnerved my sister. Mia didn’t want any of us fighting over Evelina. The only two who had some leftover interest in her were Mariano and Marciano, but Evelina had found something in one of Lev’s men, a man who we all called Wolf. He was like a stone, but with hungry eyes. An enormous black wolf followed him around like a fucking puppy. Wolf, the man, was probably somewhere close, but he hid himself well. We all got the feeling that he wasn’t a people-person in general. He existed to hunt for the Russian government.

Mia laughed at Evelina’s foam mustache and handed her a napkin, her tanzanite wedding ring catching the light and throwing a purple spark. Evelina waved the cloth, not bothering to use it, as she used her tongue to clean it up. Before, that would have turned me the fuck on, but all I could think about was what Saverio, Mia, and Evelina had learned about Stella’s past—before she was taken to Paris and left with the Nemours.

We had some of the story, as much as Saverio and his family could find, but there were too many gaps, and I wanted them filled in. I wanted to know exactly what Stella had been through, then I needed to talk to her myself. Even though her history would be mine, as well as her now and future, I wanted her to confide in me about her life. I needed her to trust me. I needed her to want me as much as I fucking wanted her. Her yes felt as vital as my next breath.

Like most of the world, I wanted what my parents had. And like most of the world, I’d kill to have it.

I’d kill to have her.

There was a fucking lion in my chest, roaring to the beat of her pulse.

Just as my mamma had predicted, and my sister too, an arranged marriage was a fucking joke compared to what I’d felt when I found Stella. I knew I’d found my true mate. As mamma said many times to me and my siblings over the years, I’d found my always .

Evelina took another drink from her cup before she turned to her suitcase and unzipped it. She removed a box and a folder. She sighed and looked at Mia. Mia reached over and took my hand and squeezed.

Mia cleared her throat. “I don’t know if it’s hard to get to know someone or not through their history, but I feel like I got to know Stella and her mamma a bit through what we found. The thing is, though…” My sister hesitated, and her green eyes were watery when she continued, her voice even softer. “Estella Valentina, Stella to us, her past is such a sad one, Teo. Her mamma’s parents were abusive to Magnolia, that was Stella’s mom’s name, but she went by Nola, and as soon as she could, she left home. Nola ended up stripping for a place called The Bunny in Slidell.”

Slidell is a small city on the outskirts of New Orleans. Goose bumps rose on my skin when I thought about how close Stella had been to me, since I spent a chunk of my life in Natchitoches, where my parents had met and fallen in love. It seemed like fate had set us close to each other, and when Stella was pulled from me, I’d found her in Paris. Some people might consider that notion fodder for the romantics, but I was the son of Brando and Scarlett Fausti. It didn’t seem all that farfetched to me. Not when a pear had brought my parents together.

“She was close,” I said, and my voice sounded tight, like the words had gotten caught in my throat before I forced them out.

“Three hours if papà drives. Five if mamma is behind the wheel.” Mia smiled at me and squeezed my hand again.

“Four hours if it’s someone who drives in between,” Evelina added. She pushed the box and envelope closer to me.

Saverio set his cup down without a sound. “The club is out of business now, but the man who owned it all those years is still alive. Chad’s his name. I tracked him down. Decent guy.” He nodded to the box and envelope. “He gave us whatever Nola left behind. He said he’d felt sorry for her and kept her things.”

I looked at my sister and she nodded, as if to say, okay, I’ll keep going.

“Henri Babin is Stella’s father. When Nemours was looking for mamma, he wasn’t alone. Henri was one of the men the family sent to spy on mamma. Or that’s what we came up with, in terms of why Henri was in Louisiana in the first place. It just makes sense. He met Nola at the club, and they got together, and Stella was born. From what the owner of the club said, everyone who worked there felt like Henri was good to Nola.

He said the club was like a family and they were all rooting for Nola’s happily ever after. Except, Henri would come and go a lot. Sometimes Nola wouldn’t see him for months. Then a good bit of time passed, and she got sick. Ovarian cancer. The doctors couldn’t give her a definite answer, regarding how she was going to respond to treatment.” Mia picked up her water and sipped on it. Saverio handed her a cracker, and she leaned over and kissed his cheek before she faced me again.

“This was when she brought Stella to live with the Nemours. Apparently, Henri had told Nola that he was going to leave Régine. That it was a marriage of show, for business, and nothing else. But we pieced together this was the time that Régine did something to him to make him sterile. Maybe he’d spilled the truth about Nola and Stella and Régine became so enraged that she turned him into a eunuch.” Mia waved a hand.

“Point stands that Henri never returned to Louisiana. Then, after Nola gets sick, she doesn’t have anyone in Slidell to leave Stella with. The guy running the place wasn’t cut out for kids. He’s nice enough, but I wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving my child with him either. Nola was right not to. None of the girls she worked with were stable enough to take care of Stella, either, since financially, all of them were barely getting by too. Henri would send Nola money for Stella occasionally, but when he stopped coming around, so did any money. We spoke to some of Nola’s friends, too, and they all collaborated what the owner told us.

“At this point, Nola was desperate, and she took whatever money she had and brought Stella to Paris. She left Stella at Henri’s apartment door with a note, explaining why she was desperate enough to leave their daughter with him. She said she hoped she could come back and take her home someday, if the treatment went well.”

“It didn’t?” This from Marciano, who was speaking so low, it sounded like his voice was grating against something sharp. He was sensitive about mammas, and I could tell the thought of Stella losing hers pushed him into his sensitive side, as Magpie put it. Out of all of us, he was more in touch with that side. But he also had fists that could hit as hard as two bowling balls flung from a slingshot.

“No one knows if it would have or not,” Mia whispered. She looked into my eyes, and whatever she saw there urged her to go on. “Saverio found her medical records. Her treatment was going fine. There was hope she’d recover and live a normal life.”

Before my sister could finish, I finished for her. “Régine Nemours had her killed.”

“The coroner report says overdose before a fire broke out. Records say that she set a pot on the stove and turned it on before she took the lethal dose.”

“Let me paint it for everyone,” Mariano said. “The doctor gave Nola drugs for the treatment, in case she was in pain or feeling sick, and those were found in her system.”

Saverio nodded. “Too many of them.”

“And the Nemours are known for pushing drugs,” Evelina said. “Especially on their dancers.”

“Mamma,” Marciano whispered. Even though he was being soft spoken, there was a dangerous energy going through my brother that was going through me. Even Mariano was feeling it. He was squeezing Marciano’s shoulder, keeping him seated.

“Those are some of the things Nola left behind,” Evelina whispered. “Her former boss gave them to us. Not much, but maybe Stella might like to have them.”

It felt like an invasion of Stella’s privacy to open the box. Even the envelope. I just stared at it all, not sure where to place all the anger boiling inside of me. My mind was blank, except for one command: kill in my heart’s honor .

“The man who owned the club showed us what’s inside. Pictures. A phone book. A journal of Nola’s time. Chad said Nola kept it to give it to Stella whenever they reunited. They had a week in Paris together before she left her at Henri’s doorstep.”

“Left her in hell,” I barely got out.

“From what Chad said, Nola thought Stella might have a decent life with Henri, even if he put her in an expensive school in France. Henri seemed to give Nola the impression that he and Régine had more of a business partnership than a relationship. Nola mentioned them not sleeping together, or Régine caring about who he was with. He only stuck around to be the face of the business. He was older than Nola, with ‘French refined charm,’ as Chad says. Either way, he had the means to take care of Stella.” Saverio set his hand underneath Mia’s hair, on her neck. “It seems like Nola thought Stella would get a nice life if she left her with Henri.”

“Régine has two daughters, and only one, Odette Babin, is from Henri,” Evelina said. “So, that tells us she was sleeping around on him, but he wasn’t allowed to do the same to her.”

“Stella is a good dancer,” Mariano said, and all eyes turned to him. “Maybe Régine Fucking Nemours didn’t give a shit about the affair. She didn’t want Nola coming back for her newest star attraction.”

Saverio made a check mark in the air. “Stella is worth a lot of money to the Nemours. They’ve built her up to be bigger than Scarlett Fausti.”

“Mamma was supposed to be a vampire or something,” Mia said. “Stella is supposed to be some kind of celestial being.”

I had no control over the sound that started in my heart and left through my mouth. It was a fucking growl. Or maybe it sounded like I was being stabbed in my chest.

We all grew quiet, and the sounds of Venice rose up around us. All that Nola had left for her daughter sat in the middle of the table, a history that probably haunted Stella. I couldn’t even imagine being in her shoes. Going from having a parent who loved you to the horror that was the Nemours. I wasn’t sure if Henri did anything to protect his daughter, but after Régine had killed Henri, Régine was who Stella was left with.

Without even thinking about it, my feet in control, I pushed away from the table and stood. Mia put a hand on my arm, and her green eyes, so much like our mamma’s, pleaded with me not to go. “Wait, Teo. You need to see something and remember that the way we are doing it—planning—is the only way to go.”

I stared at her for a second, before I fixed my suit and sat back down. Mia set the envelope directly in front of me.

“I know you probably want to let Stella open all of this, but you have to see what’s in the envelope. I feel that would be okay, because it’ll mean something to you too.”

I trusted my sister, as much as I trusted my mamma, and I opened the envelope. What looked like phone records were inside. I lifted a few out and read over them, but I wasn’t sure what I was looking at.

“When Nola brought Stella to Paris, she gave her a matching watch. A girl at the club was seeing a guy who was into new technology, and part of that new technology was a watch that pinged back and forth. If you missed the owner of the other watch, you pinged them. That’s a report of how many times Stella pinged Nola and vice versa. It was steady from both sides when Nola was still alive, but she stopped after she died.”

I cleared my throat. Once. Twice. Three times. “But Stella never stopped pinging her.” My voice sounded like it was being shredded.

“No.” Saverio’s voice had turned quieter, sadder. “The tech guy never turned off the service after his girlfriend—now wife—told him the story. Stella still pings her.”

Evelina wiped her eyes. “I don’t even want to say this, but…Nola was buried with her watch. Or wanted to be. When she didn’t know what was going to happen with the cancer, she’d asked for that.”

When my eyes rose, everyone at the table was either crying (my sister and Evelina) or looking away. Marciano sniffed a few times. I looked back down at the envelope, my hands trembling, and noticed something heavier at the bottom. It was an ornament. A star. Not interlocking like the one mamma had gotten made for us, but just one lone star. On it were the words “ un amour écrit dans les étoiles .”

In French it meant: a love written in the stars.

In Italian it would be: un amore scritto nelle stelle

And in Sicilian: na muri scrivutu ne stiddi

No matter what the language, though, I knew the words were created for us.

Our love was written in the stars, and it had always been meant to be.

Nothing was going to stop me from having her, not even death.