King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

19. Stella

Chapter 19

Stella

T he number of people waiting for us at the villa, Dare Alla Luce, was overwhelming, at first. They didn’t crowd me in or anything, but Matteo seemed to bring them in groups to introduce me. First were his great-uncles, Osvaldo (married to Fiammetta, or as Osvaldo told me to call her, Aunt Metta), then Niccolo (who I was told beforehand was an eternal bachelor). Then came his uncles, his father’s brothers: Rocco (married to Rosaria), Dario (married to Carmen), and Romeo (married to Juliette). Matteo’s brothers, Mariano, Marciano, and Maestro, who were single except for Maestro. Matteo had told me his marriage had been arranged to a royal in Russia.

I remembered Ava telling me that order was a big thing for this family. That proved to be true. Everyone seemed to be introduced in order of births. I’d met Mia first, which was in line because she was older than Matteo.

Matteo’s two brothers, Mariano and Marciano, both nodded when I’d said we’d been introduced before, that night in Sub Rosa. Then I hugged them all, and maybe it was my imagination, but they all seemed to melt into the embrace. And I couldn’t help but think of that word again.

Divine.

They looked and smelled it.

Saverio’s parents, Mac and Mari came next. Then a slew of cousins, all male, followed by Nazzareno and Ava. She was responsible for my deep dive, as she’d called it, into this family. I was introduced to their son, Augusto Aurelius, a pilot like Nazzareno. I met a woman named Gigi, who was related to Matteo from Grazia Angeli’s side, which was Matteo’s great-grandmother, the famous Italian actress.

Gigi was gorgeous enough to follow in Grazia’s footsteps. She was married to Harrison from America, and they had two children, Ciccio and Noemi. Ciccio was a famous baseball player in America, in New York, and Noemi was a film director, screen writer, and producer. She was just getting noticed for her short films, which all took place in Italy.

Even though Ciccio seemed to resemble his mom more, with a twist from his dad, it was hard to tell who Noemi looked like. She had darkish blonde hair and more blunt features than her mom. She was stunning in her own way, and when I asked why she wasn’t an actress, too, she laughed and said the camera didn’t love her face as much as it should.

She kept staring at my face, though, and every so often, she would tilt her head. “Have you ever considered acting?” she asked me.

“No.” But I hadn’t considered much. I had no clue what to do with my life ever since it became my own, except fall in love with Matteo Fausti. Having a passion of my own was on my to do list, though, something I got to decide on, whether it be dance or not. Matteo had nodded and said, “Whatever you want to do.”

“A…brain surgeon,” I’d said, just kidding around.

His face had become serious. “Whatever you want to do, I can see it. We always need doctors in the family.”

I’d laughed so hard, I’d almost peed myself. Then I’d laughed even harder at the look on Matteo’s face. It had been all too serious, but then he’d smiled. “Keep laughing like that, baby. Never stop.”

“Why?” I’d said between fits.

“Because it makes my heart healthy.”

“You should really think about it,” Noemi said, cutting through my thoughts. “If you can deliver a line and make people believe it, I think you’d be wonderful. I’m starting a series, completely based in Italy, and you’d be perfect for the role of Valentina.”

“That’s my middle name!”

“See!” Her response was just as charged as mine. “I knew this was meant to be!” She looked at Matteo. “Call me.”

“No kissing,” he said.

She made a pfff noise. “I know the drill. You can stand in like Marzio used to do. No one got close to, especially kissed, Grazia Angeli, but Marzio Fausti after they got together.”

“As it should be. His wife.” Matteo’s grip on my hip became heavier, and I could feel the heat from his palm burning through the fabric of the dress.

“Excellent!” Noemi balled her fist and acted like she punched the air. “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be calling you, Matteo Fausti.”

Matteo muttered something into his drink in Italian, and then his father called him over to the grill. Brando was grilling in an expensive suit, his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up. A steady stream of smoke made the air cloudy, and it smelled so good, my mouth watered. Matteo looked around, and finding a woman, brought me over to her.

“Stella,” he said, presenting me like a queen, like he’d done ever since introductions started. “This is Chloe. We went to school together in Natchitoches. She’s marrying my cousin, Massimo.”

“I must have been in my personal zone when introductions were made,” she said. “Hi, Stella!”

“Oh!” I took her outstretched hand and shook it, almost shaking her. “You’re the reason Matteo found me.”

Matteo kissed me on the cheek and whispered that he was going to help his father, leaving us together.

“I’ll take care of her, Teo!” Chloe called after him. She looked at me. “To be honest, that…scum is the reason Matteo found you.”

“Ivan,” I breathed.

“Yeah, I guess that’s his name.” Her blue eyes seemed to cloud over, and she looked away from me, toward where Massimo was talking to his brothers.

When she looked away from me, I studied her. Her hair was so light, it was almost white, and the color of her eyebrows matched. Even her lashes were blonde. Her cheeks were rosy, and so were her lips. She had paint stains underneath her nails. Mostly, a vibrant red color with gold patches here and there.

“I’m glad that what he did to me led Matteo to you,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine being close to anyone…Ivan was associated with. He really did a number on me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

She looked me in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.” Then she smiled, but the corners of her mouth trembled a bit. “But we’re in a totally different place now, and it’s safe here. Want to help us in the kitchen? The women usually gravitate that way sooner or later. Sorry I missed you earlier. I was painting the fields! Gorgeous, aren’t they?”

“Gorgeous,” I agreed, following behind her.

Laughter met me before a room full of women did. Scarlett was the lead, it seemed, as she directed the other women around the kitchen, unless they were doing their own thing. When she noticed me, she pulled me in and asked how I was doing.

“Okay,” I said, feeling secure next to her. “Just a lot of people.”

“I know, bebe ,” she said, “But it won’t take long to remember.”

That, I could believe. Even though there were a lot of people, Scarlett and Matteo were right. It was hard to confuse anyone with anyone else. Personalities were not something lacking around here. Like Zia …no...Zi o Romeo. After I’d met him, I had no idea how I could forget him and The Hair. That still cracked me up.

Scarlett patted my hip and returned my smile. “Romeo?”

“Yeah,” I said, laughing. “He’s unforgettable.”

“Ah, Cher !” Juliette said from somewhere in the kitchen. “If he hears that, we won’t be able to walk him out of here. His head will swell too big!”

The entire kitchen laughed, and then a woman who sat at the table, doing something with a green, spiky-looking vegetable, waved at me. “I am Apollonia,” she said with a heavy Italian accent. “Scarlett has surpassed the teacher, but allow me to get to know you and teach you a few things in the kitchen.”

“Don’t feel pressured to help!” Scarlett waved her hands in a good-natured way. “This party is in your honor—a welcome home party!”

I took the seat next to Apollonia, and Scarlett formally introduced us. One of Apollonia’s daughters was married to a son of friends of Scarlett and Brando’s back in Louisiana. Scarlett slipped an apron over my head when she noticed Apollonia asking me to do this or that with the food prep. Then Scarlett’s parents arrived, and I was introduced to them. Her father, Everett, was there and then gone. Her mother, Pnina, stuck around and started talking to me about wedding gowns. She asked if I’d do her the pleasure of allowing her to design one for me. She was a famous designer.

“Sure.” I laughed. “As soon as there’s a wedding to plan. “

She waved this off, like I made no sense. Magpie got in on the conversation, and before I knew it, one of them had pulled up Pnina’s page on the Internet and was showing me pictures while I got my hands dirty with Apollonia.

A few minutes later, Magpie nudged me. “Some handsome fella has come to check on you.” She smiled at the door.

Sure enough, Matteo braved the women and stood in the doorway, looking over at me.

“You okay?” he mouthed.

I nodded, a big smile on my face that I couldn’t control. I was having fun with the women, but it was him that made me feel like I could float.

He smiled at me before an older woman shooed him out. Her name was Aunt Lola, and everyone said she didn’t make appearances for just any reason since she was up in age. She was married to Uncle Tito, who Ava had told me was famous in the Fausti family for marrying Lola and being their doctor for many years. They were both old, but so nice, and as far as I could tell, Lola was still a spicy pepper.

“That’s very ballsy and rare,” Noemi said, appearing next to me. “A man entering this kitchen.” She nabbed something from the table and moaned at the taste of it. “These are even better than the last time!” She took another. “Let me tell you all the plans I have for Stella.”

“An actress!” Magpie beamed. “I love that for her! Tell me more about what you have planned!”

After about fifteen minutes, Magpie jumped up and ran out of the kitchen. When she came back, she was wearing a head piece with tall feathers on it. I looked at Scarlett and she grinned at me.

“I love you in that, Magpie!” Mia said. “Oh, maybe we can have a movie night and all wear one. You have enough!”

“Mia Gorgeous,” Magpie said, dancing around the kitchen. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in ages.”

I started to laugh and couldn’t seem to stop. I loved these people!

“Okay, who’s having fun without me?” Evelina, Saverio’s sister, entered the kitchen and looked around.

“We could never have fun without you,” Mia said.

Evelina leaned down and touched Mia’s belly. “How’s my newest baby?”

“Good,” Mia said, patting Evelina’s hand and then squeezing it. “Getting stronger every day.”

The conversation turned to Mia’s newest pregnancy and how it was different from the first. Aunt Lola said she was going to do something with a ring over her stomach later. Mostly everyone thought she was having a girl. Scarlett didn’t say anything, even though most people kept looking at her.

About fifteen minutes later, we all took a dish and brought it outside. It was going to be served family style, was what Scarlett had called it, and in a rush of things, partners pairing up, men holding out chairs for the women, we all took our seats.

The main table was decorated like something out of a magazine, as mom used to say, and the food was served in dishes that were almost too pretty to eat out of. Nonno led us in prayer, said in Italian and then English, and then we were all passing the dishes, picking what we wanted or passing it on. I noticed two women, who were not there before, taking the platters to put on side tables once we were done. If someone wanted more, they requested it through one of the women.

I’d never eaten food so good in my life. And I totally got why the chatter had died down and the only noises that could be heard were the sounds of humming and even moaning. I was probably the one leading these two sounds. I ate so much, my eyes started drooping, and I rested my head on Matteo’s shoulder while he had a conversation with Marciano.

Nonno stood with Magpie on his arm. The table quieted instantly. He thanked Scarlett for the divine food and gave a speech that seemed worthy of an award, then lifted his glass to Matteo and me. Matteo took my arm, and we stood. I probably looked confused and like I was pregnant from the swelling in my stomach, but I managed to stand tall, lifting my glass like Matteo did.

“This dinner that we were all so blessed to enjoy is in honor of my grandson, Matteo Leone Fausti, and his beautiful heart, who I had the pleasure of spending time with earlier. If you are at this table, you are family. Family, join me in celebrating the newest member of the family, our own star, Stella.”

Everyone lifted their glasses to me, and Nonno said something in Italian. The entire family repeated it and drained their glasses. Scarlett hugged Brando’s arm, and he looked at her like he was drinking her in. I drank my drink, and after that, it seemed like day melted into evening and the party really got started.

Outside lights came to life, and the smell of lemons was even stronger in the air. Kids ran with sparklers. Speakers placed on the house and throughout the yard played beautiful Italian music. Couples danced. Men drank and smoked cigars. Women laughed and enjoyed red wine from the bottles on the table. An entire dessert table had been filled, and people were still lingering. I had five plates before my stomach called enough.

I hadn’t even drunk anything with alcohol until the toast. At first, I thought I was floating because of that, but after time, I realized it was the entire day.

This was what it felt like to be in love with…life.

Matteo gave me his hand and took me to the area where couples were dancing underneath lights strung from tree branches, zigzagging over our heads. He started to move me to the music, teaching me a few Italian dances, before his brothers took turns dancing with me. They all laughed at the pinched look on his face. He was waiting, but not patiently. His grandfather took my hand next, serenading me while “La Vie en Rose” played. I cried while I sang with him. I knew this song. Mom had loved it. And his voice. I could hardly put into words how it made me feel. Like my skin felt the vibration of it, like his passion could be felt bone deep. After the dance was over, he bowed to me and kissed my hand, just like a knight in some old book.

Except he wasn’t the light kind. He was dark kind, and for some reason, I loved it.

When Matteo finally took me from his cousin, Augusto Aurelius, who told me to call him Auggie when older family were not around, a new song played.

It stopped me cold.

“This song,” I barely got out.

He nodded, studying my face.

“You know it?” I asked.

He nodded again. “It’s special to me and my family. My mom’s brother, Elliott, who was papà’s brother of the heart, loved it. He was hearing-impaired, and he loved to feel the vibration of the music. All those years, and mamma and papà kept the love of it alive through us. Maybe it was because it kept my uncle alive for them. He died before any of us was born. Maestro is named after him. That was the nickname my old man had given him.”

Maybe it was the love I could barely contain for Matteo Fausti. Maybe it was the serenade before, from Nonno, because it felt like it had moved my soul. Or maybe it was the entire day. I’d never had one that was so special, except for my time with mom. Maybe it was the thought of her. Maybe it was even for a guy named Elliot, who I’d never meet, who seemed to be missing out on this life with these people.

Or maybe it was because this song was special to me too. The record was one of my most cherished, and it was nothing but a pile of ash in that dungeon. Yet it was playing for me to hear, during one of the most special days of my life.

Maybe it was a combination of all it.

Whatever the reason, or reasons, tears ran down my overheated cheeks.

Matteo kissed my face, where the tears were most concentrated, before he pulled me so close, it was hard to breathe. But I could. I could breathe better than I ever had.

“Can you sing for me?” I whispered. My throat was too tight to shout over the music.

He heard me. He nodded. Cleared his throat. He sang part of the song in Italian. He sounded just like his grandfather.

“Wow,” was all I could say, and when he grinned down at me, I returned it.

“Come,” he said, taking my hand, leading me toward the villa. “I have something to show you.”

I couldn’t wait.

Matteo showed me to his room in the vast villa. Before he could show me whatever it was he wanted to, I ran to the bathroom. I checked my reflection in the gold-framed mirror after my business was done, and I was excited to see my hair was still in place. For the first time in months, I felt pretty.

Matteo was waiting by a door in the room when I walked out.

“What took you so long?” he said.

“Ah. I had to use the bathroom, then wash my hands and?—”

He started laughing, and it was raspy, and the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. “I missed you, baby.”

“Oh.” I realized he was joking and laughed too. “I missed you too!” I stood next to him, bumping my body into his. “What did you want to show me?”

“So impatient,” he said almost to himself. “What I want to show you is outside, but I thought you might want to change into something more comfortable first.”

He opened the door to the closet and pulled a dangling string that awoke a light bulb. I said, “Oh, am I allowed to do that?”

“Yes,” he said all too seriously. “Where we’re going, it’s only going to be us.”

After a beat, he turned and looked at me, and I exploded with laughter.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Pulling your string like you pulled that one.” I nodded toward it.

He sighed. “I’m going to have to be fast to keep up with you.” He pulled me into the closet. He pointed to a row of clothes and said, “Pick whatever you want. Mamma and Mia picked them out. Just until we can go shopping for what you like.”

“Magpie didn’t help?”

“No, I thought it best if she didn’t.”

“Why? Because I’d be wearing feathers?” Grinning, I took a step forward and hit my toe on something hard shoved underneath the lower level of clothes. “ Ow .”

After Matteo rubbed my toe, he leaned over and dug out the hard chunk. “An old box fan. This room can get stuffy in the summer.”

“Do you mind if we keep it out?” I whispered. “I had one of these in my room back home with my mom. I could only sleep when it was on.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “We’ll keep it next to the bed.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and turned toward the clothes. I started rummaging through them, not really caring where my hand landed because everything was so soft and pretty. I ended up deciding on a dress that ended right above my ankles and only had thin straps. The dress reminded me of a slip and felt like silk. It had a metallic pattern to it.

Matteo bent down and picked up a pair of sandals from the floor. “These good?”

Nodding, I took them from him. “Perfect.”

He leaned down and kissed me. My arms wrapped around his neck, and the shoes hit his back. He kissed me so hard, we started moving toward the clothes, neither of us realizing. When the knock came at the door, he had to pull me out of it.

He led me out of the closet and set me on the bed. He got down on one knee and started removing my heels.

“The door,” I whispered.

“This comes first. Then I answer.”

I said nothing as he removed both heels and then, with a tender finger, ran it across my toes. They were stained brown from dancing on a dirt dance floor in open toed heels. After, he stood, placed a kiss on my nose, then answered the door. Mariano.

“Nonno called a meeting.”

Matteo nodded. “Be there in a minute.” He shut the door, told me to take my time changing, and that he’d meet me outside.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be the one in silver.”

He smiled. “In the darkness, you’re going to shine for me.”

A smile lingered on my face while I changed. The straps of the dress were thin, the top came into a V, and the waist came in, hugging the curves I had left. I kept the bracelets Matteo had given me on. I spritzed some perfume on that was in the bathroom and double checked my hair. Whatever Lourdes had used on my hair was like glue.

At first, I thought the villa was going to be intimidating, but it felt more like a home. Could have been our trailer back in Slidell, or just what it was, a gorgeous farmhouse, as Matteo had once called it, in the Tuscan hills. It wasn’t snobby at all, or cold. I enjoyed sliding my hand over every surface as I made my way downstairs.

The party was still going, and I smiled at Scarlett when I made it to the kitchen. “Need any help?”

She waved me off. “No, bebe . I just want you to relax and have fun.”

“Mamma likes everything to have a certain spot.” Mia smiled at her mamma’s back when she turned to dry a dish. “We’re still not allowed to touch her special dishes.”

Scarlett turned and flung a dishtowel at Mia, but it hit me instead. Everyone in the kitchen grew quiet, until I flung it back, and everyone started howling with laughter. Mia took my arm, still laughing, and led me outside.

The table with the desserts was still standing, only a few sweet treats left.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Mia said. “I’m thinking the same thing.”

“Can I have extra?”

Scarlett appeared out of nowhere, it seemed. “You never have to ask, bebe . If the food is there, it’s for anyone who wants it. Always feel comfortable helping yourself.”

“Yeah, because if you don’t, one of these brutes will just finish it in two bites.” Mia plucked a dessert that was a shell filled with sweet cream. I was pretty sure Matteo had called it a cannolo.

Mia finished hers in two bites. “Gotta run inside! Nature calls!”

I looked over the dessert table after she left, taking the last of a few things. Then I took my plate to a table that was free and sat down. I almost felt like rubbing my hands together, making hungry noises before I dived in. I was still full from earlier, but I felt led to eat. It was a power trip I was trying to tame. I heard a familiar voice while I was stuffing my mouth and looked up to see Evelina looking over the table, trying to decide on what she wanted.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” an Italian-accented voice said from the side of me.

I jumped a little. I hadn’t even noticed her sitting there. The woman seemed to have detached from the shadows and taken the seat next to me. Rosaria. Rocco’s wife. Earlier, when Matteo had introduced us, all she did was stare at me. Ava had warned me about her, that she could be cold, and she wasn’t understating it. Ava also told me she had more drive to lead the Fausti family than some of the men. I didn’t doubt that either.

I’d decided earlier to avoid her. There was nothing I could do in that moment, though, so I concentrated on eating instead.

She sighed. It was dramatic. “All the men were after her not long ago. Including Matteo. He wanted to marry her, but she found another man in Russia. She did not want to start a war among family.” She made a sound that sounded like it meant what nonsense . “Even my son was after her. I believe she loves Matteo as much as he loves her. Again, neither of them wanted a war, so him finding you was perfect timing. What better way to prove to the family his love will not cause a war by finding a proxy? I am sure he will take her as a lover after your marriage.”

She had my attention.

She knew it.

She stood with a grin, used her finger to wipe up some of the cream left on my plate, and then headed inside. Scarlett met her in the doorway, and the two women stared at each other before Rosaria blew past her.

Scarlett’s eyes locked on mine. “Are you okay, Stella?”

“Fine,” I choked out and reached for a bottle of the red wine that had been passed around earlier.

Scarlett nodded, and then was being tugged backward. Brando had her around the waist and was pulling her back inside the house.

A hand seemed to come out of thin air and grab the bottle of wine from me.

“Give that back,” I said to Matteo.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Most people don’t usually drink it straight from the bottle.”

“Why?” I snapped, not really meaning to. “Does it taste different if I pour it in a glass?”

He studied my face before he took my hand and the bottle and started hauling me in the opposite direction of the villa. Marciano stopped us not far past it and handed Matteo a blanket. Matteo slung it over his shoulder, and we walked deeper onto the property. When we got to a bunch of towering trees that created a path, he cleared his throat.

“You’re quiet.”

“Am I usually chatty?”

“When it’s just the two of us, usually, yeah.” He had a guarded look on his face, like he wasn’t sure what I was going to say, or maybe do.

“Just full,” I sort of lied.

It was true. I was. But not the entire reason for my silence. He’d never told me about his feelings for Evelina and that he was in love with her. That was something I should have known from the beginning, especially if the only reason he wasn’t with her was because it would cause a war between him, his brothers, and his cousin. I could see how that might cause trouble with Saverio too. I knew they were all close, and maybe he wouldn’t like it if his wife’s family were all fighting over his beautiful sister.

Evelina was—so beautiful. And she seemed really smart.

And in that moment, I felt the opposite of smart. I felt…tricked.

Matteo stopped walking, and right after I passed him, he set the things he was carrying down, and grabbed me by the wrist, turning me toward him, like we were about to dance. The silver light of the moon hit his eyes and made them seem supernatural.

“Tell me,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever’s on your mind. I don’t break easily. My feelings are made of iron. And I can’t fix the fucking problem if you’re not honest with me.”

I wasn’t sure why I decided to become defensive in that moment, but I did. “Can we just keep walking? I’m tired and my feet are hurting.”

He took both of my wrists and held them in a strong hold. “Tell me.”

“You could have told me you were in love with Evelina.”

“Rosaria had a chat with you.”

“Yes, she did. She might be a cold bitch, but she cared enough to tell me the truth.”

He laughed, but it was bitter sounding. “Did my dear old aunt, who cares so much, also tell you she tried to seduce me?”

“No,” I gasped out. “Why would she do that?”

“To cause a war between my uncle and me. And, yeah, I thought about marrying Evelina before I met you. I needed a wife, and an arrangement suited me. But everyone was interested in her, and it wasn’t worth a war with my family. You. I’d go to war with my brother over you. A man who I share blood with and love. Understand?”

I studied his eyes. He was staring at me with that same intensity that made my veins feel like they were made of lava and my heart was turning to mush. “I understand,” I whispered.

“Not fully,” he said, releasing one of my wrists and running a tender finger down my face. “You will. Someday. Maybe.”

I couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like. If things between us were this intense, and we hadn’t even known each other long, how could it get any stronger than this, as he believed it would? Or would it fizzle out over time? The thought depressed me. But, like his eyes, whatever existed between us felt supernatural. Not of this world. No explanation or rhyme or reason for it.

Maybe that was why the Nemours had believed that of me. Because a love like this existed in my depths, and I just couldn’t see it until Matteo came along. I held tighter to his hand as he led me deeper into the trees and deeper into darkness.