King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

18. Stella

Chapter 18

Stella

“ M ost people call me Stella.”

Out of all the fucking responses, that was the one I’d chosen to say to the king of the Fausti family?! I’d tried to prepare for this day for over a month. I’d thought over everything I’d say. I’d decided curtseying wasn’t called for, but in my mind, our first interaction went a lot smoother than it had in reality. And if I had any doubts about my social skills, that response confirmed it—I sucked at them.

Matteo had told me to go easy on myself. I had a lot of catching up to do. And I know I did, but this man…there was something so overwhelming about him, and like the rest of Matteo’s family, I really wanted to make a great first impression.

I had to give it to…Nonno. He took my response in stride and didn’t respond with something smart-alecky or snippy. What he said to me after made me melt a little more into my heels.

He was a bit confusing, though. He was so damn…handsome. Gorgeous? Beautiful? Man, it was hard to stick these men with an adjective that truly fit how fine they were. And Nonno, along with Brando, and of course Matteo, were all so beautiful, I teetered back and forth between wanting to stare at them, and my eyes hurting from staring at them for so long.

Then again, Nonno had such a warm presence about him. Like a grandfather should.

Then again, the woman who had done my hair, Lourdes, respected him, but I could tell she did in a way that was maybe born out of fear. My eyes had met hers in the mirror when she’d said, “And Matteo, he’s his father’s son and his grandfather’s grandson. He’ll lead the Fausti family someday, and that’s no easy feat.” She squeezed my shoulders and then changed the subject.

I guess that meant Matteo would one day be walking his grandson’s significant other through this same path, having walked in Nonno’s shoes.

What did that even mean, exactly? I had a clue, but I hadn’t learned nearly enough. Maybe Matteo was right. I had to walk my own path to really experience his life and form my own conclusions.

This much was true, though. Luca Fausti’s genes were strong. Punch-other-genes-in-the-face-and-knock-’em-out strong. Brando Fausti looked just like Luca Fausti, and Matteo Fausti looked just like Brando Fausti. I couldn’t wait to see the rest of them—his brothers and uncles!

“Tell me, are you always this quiet, Estella.”

The way he said my name… whew .

“Yes. No. I mean, I haven’t been with Matteo, but before that…”

His eyes hardened on the sky, and when he looked at me, they softened. “We do not need to discuss what happened to you for me to know.” He patted my hand. “I know, and they will pay.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, not sure what else to say.

“Come,” he said, directing me down another path. “I will show you the land that I spent time on in my youth. This place is special to me. It warmed my heart when my son and my daughter of the heart bought it. This was the villa my mamma grew up in.”

“Grazia Angeli.”

“ Bene ,” he said, taking my hand and kissing it. “My grandson is teaching you our history well.”

“There’s a lot of it,” I said, the words just sliding out.

He only smiled. “ Sì . Our family is an ancient olive tree on a hill. We have been here since the beginning of this land. Our roots spread from here to Sicily.”

“You are Italy.”

“We are Italia .”

The way he said that, with so much passion and belief…goosebumps spread on my arms. Even though I hadn’t had a lot of life experience, except for what that retched woman and her cronies allowed me to have, I could tell this family was passionate. The men seemed to be all about their women and this family. The women about their men and their families. I could get down with that.

“Can I be honest with you… Nonno ?”

“You please me so by calling me that.” He squeezed my hand in a way that was so nice, I hoped he kept my hand in his the entire time. His was warm, like the early morning sun or the late evening one. So pleasant, I almost wanted to close my eyes and take a nap.

I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to mess this up. I’m worried about what to say or not to say…that I might say something stupid that will offend you. I…know it’s soon, and my life hasn’t even started yet, but…I love your grandson.”

We turned toward each other, and his eyes were different. He wasn’t giving me a hard stare, but more of a puzzled one, maybe. Matteo’s eyes were like that too. So expressive, even though I didn’t always get the intention behind the look right.

Yet.

After a second, I turned my face and whispered, “That’s all I wanted to say.”

“That is everything, Estella. I am proud to call you the granddaughter of my heart.” Surprising me, he pulled me in and set a tender kiss on my forehead. “Now. Let us walk and enjoy the day.”

He directed me down another path. This one seemed to be taking us higher on the hill overlooking all the beautiful wildflowers rolling with the sloped landscape. The red color was so vibrant, it was almost like they were a pattern on the green earth carpeting.

“Wow,” I breathed, looking over at the view. “This is so beautiful. You were so lucky to have this view growing up.”

I thought about my own view and how much of a prison it was compared to this.

He nodded to an iron bench that seemed ancient and new all at the same time. The ground underneath had no grass, only dirt, even though everywhere else the grass grew almost wild. “We will take a seat and talk.”

The seat was warm beneath my dress. The sun hit us, but not directly. Not with all the trees giving us shade. And when a light breeze lifted my hair, it carried the scent of mud, fresh flowers, zesty lemon, and what seemed like the scents of food from the house—er, villa. I thought maybe this was what heaven looked and smelled like. I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words. This was pure peace.

After a few minutes, Nonno cleared his throat. He pointed to another section of the property and started telling me stories. Things he’d done with his brothers, his mamma and papà. All his aunts and uncles. Even his grandparents. He was such a good storyteller, and I found myself crying and laughing at the things he was telling me. This property held so many memories. Not all of them good. His mamma died here, so had his father, but it all seemed like…life.

The good. The bad. The beautiful. The ugly. The happy. The sad.

That was what I desperately wanted—it all. Instead of only one mode: survival.

“I have been told this spot is a spot of truth,” Nonno almost whispered, his voice like gravel. “I can believe it, can you, Estella?”

“Yes,” I breathed out.

“Your agreement has inspired me to go on. I can see it. My grandson. You. Your children. You are running after them, laughing, while Matteo Leone protects his family from the shadows, taking so much pleasure in you all, it will almost make him weep.”

I turned my face towards his, watching him carefully. I could hear the sadness in his voice. Or maybe regret? But it didn’t seem like men like him had regrets. He was too strong for that. I squeezed his hand, then entwined our fingers.

“I would love that a lot,” I whispered. “You will be here to see.”

“This is not for me to decide. There are things a man knows he can control and others he knows he cannot. I have made peace with not having control over that aspect of my life long ago.”

And I could tell that was his final words on that.

He turned, blinked at me, then smiled. His teeth were near perfect. “You remind me of my wife. A spirit that is wild, but a love that will be rooted in your husband, your family. This family.” He tapped the back of the bench with his pointer finger. “Now, shall I give you a gift? Yes. Yes. I shall.”

Not a second later, a towering man with salt and pepper hair stepped out of the shadows and handed Nonno a…

“Kitten!” I almost squealed. My hands turned into sticky digits as Nonno handed over the small purring animal that looked more like a leopard with its spots. It had the most gorgeous gold eyes!

“Bengal,” Nonno said to me, scratching the furry baby behind the ears. “That’s the kind of cat it is.”

Nonno said something to the man in Italian. Dismissing him, it seemed like, since he disappeared right after. The man’s name seemed to be Donato. But I wasn’t paying much attention. I already had my heels off and was playing in the grass with the baby cat. It was so playful, swatting at my fingers and jumping in my lap and purring.

The sound of laughter pulled my attention away and up. Nonno. He seemed so delighted, and was kicking his shoes off, removing his jacket, and getting down in the grass with us. He toyed with the cat’s nose, and it swatted at him. I laughed so hard, I had to stop myself from flopping backward in the grass.

“What’s—” I lifted the kitten and checked “— his name?”

“That is for you to decide, Estella,” he said, running his hand in the grass, teasing the kitten to play.

The kitten’s eyes narrowed, a concentrated look coming to his face, all too serious for a baby fur ball, before he pounced. He wasn’t fast enough yet. Nonno’s hand was gone while the kitten was in mid-strike.

“He’s a fierce hunter.” I smiled. “But also…passionate. I think he’ll be loyal. How about Figaro?” I laughed, remembering the movie the name came from.

“Figaro. This suits him.”

I picked Figaro up and cradled him to my chest. “Because I love it for him.” He purred against me, but after a minute, he wanted to get down and explore. Nonno and I watched as he crept in the tall grass, looking for things to hunt. I only hoped he’d love killing rats. Something about the idea made me feel warm and sad at the same time.

I ran my hand through the grass, and not meeting Nonno’s eyes, said, “Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t answer for so long, I turned and met his stare. He nodded.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “If you knew bad news was waiting for you, would you want it right away, or would you want to wait to hear it?”

He ran his hand over the grass, but his eyes were in the distance. He was thinking. Then finally he said, “When I was a younger man, I would have demanded it right away. But now that I am older, and love beyond measure, the truth seems to keep without spoiling.”

Maybe I was wrong, but I had a feeling he was talking about Magpie having cancer. Matteo told me his grandfather didn’t take the news well. Like, he was preparing to retire as the king of the Fausti Family because of it. At first, I was like, yeah, I can see someone doing that. But, after meeting him, I realized how much of a sacrifice that was. He didn’t seem like a man to give in easily when he was passionate about something. I really didn’t know him, but in a way, it felt like we’d both introduced ourselves that day.

I wouldn’t have claimed I was afraid of him, but I surely wouldn’t want to cross him either.

The reason I’d asked him the question, though, was because the kitten, Figaro, brought back memories of my mom. She’d gotten me a cat a year or so before she left me in Paris. He mostly lived outside, not really interested in living indoors, but…we both loved him and spoiled him when he let us. I just wondered what someone like Luca would do in my position. I was still not sure what I wanted to do. Maybe it was okay to go on a little longer without knowing the truth, even if deep down, I knew something wasn’t right. If my mom was still alive, I knew Matteo would have brought me to her, or her to me.

Luca stood from the grass like he was twenty instead of the age he was. He held his hand down and I took it. He basically lifted me up, as smooth as if gravity was reversed, before slipping his expensive shoes back on. “Your mother-in-law is particular about being on time for dinner. I respect this about her and do not want to disrespect her table.”

He picked my heels up, and after I took a seat on the iron bench, he said, “Allow me,” as he fastened them back on my feet.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He said something in Italian, something that probably meant my pleasure , or close to it, and after I scooped up Figaro, I took Nonno’s arm, and he led me back to the villa.