King of Stars (The Next Generation #2)

47. Stella

Chapter 47

Stella

T wo months until the wedding, and our entire world had turned so tense, I wondered if it was a good idea to just cancel. We were married, and that was all that counted to me. I really wanted mom to be at one, though, so I broached the subject of just repeating our Tuscan wedding in December.

Matteo shook his head. “Massimo made his choice. Even Padrino understands why Massimo has made the choices he has.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you understand?” I asked.

It was horrible what had happened to that guy Chloe had decided to marry on a whim. Scarlett had said she probably wasn’t thinking clearly, and to escape Massimo, she was going to marry that guy and leave town. I wasn’t sure why she thought marriage was the answer—no one else did either—but she chose that path.

The guy Chloe married was someone she’d dated briefly before she left for Paris to pursue her art degree. He was related to the late sheriff of the town, which made things worse. Apparently, there was some real bad blood between the Fausti family and the Stone family, which Mia filled me in on. She even told me that Juliette, Romeo’s wife, had been engaged to a Stone before she met Romeo. Mia told me that the sheriff (who had, she added, lost a lot to the Faustis) had died last year.

The girl who ran up to Matteo right before I had that breakdown was the sheriff’s daughter. His widow, Jane (or did Mia call her Janet? Come to think of it, I think she called her both) married the sheriff’s younger brother a few months later. Mia said the brother was worse than the sheriff, as far as his hate for the Fausti family, but at least he wasn’t in law enforcement. But he was in politics.

Matteo stared at me for a second, but his eyes had turned hard, like he was looking at me, but imagining…something unpleasant. “ Sì. ” He stood from the table and pinned me against the kitchen counter. He had an arm on each side of me, crowding me in.

“What?” I breathed him in, looking up into his eyes.

“Proof that you are so much better than me.”

“Proof?”

“Yeah, proof. I have it. Here it is. I would have killed any man that touched you before me, and you’d have a closet full of hearts.” He leaned in and kissed me, leaving for a day of “work.”

“I didn’t think that was an option for me!” I yelled at his back a second too late. I mean, thinking about those women, one in particular that had made an awful impression on me, the chocolate-making chick, did make me murderous, and if anyone tried to hurt him, I would hurt them, but to just find those women and…I made a slicing motion across my throat. How could I? I mean, it was one thing to feel something, but another to do it.

Maybe that was why I’d been locked up all those years. Maybe I would have been a strumpet, and I would have a collection of hearts in my closet to regret.

My husband’s raspy laughter echoed until the entire house fell silent. He was so quiet, I had never heard him come in or leave.

Sighing, I looked around the empty villa. All clean. Dinner already planned and ready to go.

What to do?

I’d pick mom up and we’d go for a ride. The temperature was starting to come down, and the Florence scenery was changing from the dried, brittle earth of a scorching summer to the painting-worthy auburns, pumpkins, and stark golds of fall.

That was a shocker. Not the weather but mom. About two weeks after we’d found out about Massimo and what the media in Louisiana had called a bloody massacre, Mom told me she was moving into Niccolo’s villa.

“With him?” I’d asked.

Matteo had grinned at me.

“Yeah,” Mom had said. “You’re practically a newlywed, will be again after the second wedding, and you need your space. And when you’re off on your honeymoon, Niccolo is going to take me to all my doctor’s appointments instead of Maggie and Luca. Niccolo’s been cooking me all these healthy dishes. He even makes green smoothies for me!”

I was so excited to admit that mom was looking more like herself. She wasn’t as tired from her treatments, and she was starting to get a wild spark in her eyes. The same spark I remembered from when I was a kid. She was almost…glowing. I knew a lot of that was because we were finally together again, both of our breaths coming easier since we knew we were both breathing the same air. But I also knew Niccolo was making her happy in a way I’d never seen her before with a man.

After I started to help her pack, I’d asked her, “Mom, why didn’t you ever get married? That guy, the carpenter—remember him? He was really nice.”

She focused on folding a shirt, like she couldn’t get it wrong. “Um, well, I don’t know. There were a few over the years that might’ve had some potential, but it was me and you, bestie boo. I didn’t want anyone trying to tell me what to do with my daughter. You came first. That’s why I didn’t mind the deal between Henri and me. He wasn’t the type to interfere with you. The money was nice whenever he sent it, but that’s another reason I didn’t push for it too much. I didn’t want him getting any wild ideas, like he had rights or anything to you. I made enough to get us by. That’s why I didn’t give you his last name. Babin. I gave you mine.”

“Your parents?” I asked. “They were not…nice people?”

She shook her head. “My mom died when I was fifteen. But before that, she wasn’t the definition of a caring mom. She was sick on and off throughout the years. Blamed me for it. She’d get mad at me for the stupidest shit and make me kneel on rice for hours in the corner.”

She had never told me that before. I swallowed down the sudden sadness I had for my mom, squeezing the pants in my grasp, and whispered, “What was she sick with?”

“Same thing I have.”

“Your mom had it too?”

“Yeah. The first time it went away. The second time it took her.”

“How could she blame you for that?”

“She thought it spread because of me.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous!” Mom flinched when I yelled, and I could tell she was over talking about it, but I had to know. “What about your dad?”

She shrugged. “He was off on a boat a lot of the time, and even when he was home, he didn’t stop her. Which made him just as guilty as her. I left the day after she died. He never came looking for me.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I replayed that conversation in my head while I dressed. I didn’t want mom to know it bothered me as much as it did. Every so often, the look on her face and in her eyes—like maybe she hadn’t fully gotten over it, and maybe never would—almost haunted me. I wished I could erase her past, make it better, but it was out of my control.

Same with my life with the Fausti family. I could be there for Matteo, be his light, but I’d decided to keep myself as separate from the family politics as possible. Rosaria had almost roped me into the seventh circle with her, but that wasn’t my place. My place was to love my husband and do what I was passionate about—whatever that was.

Mom did get so excited when I told her about Noemi and the movie that would be filmed in Italy.

“A movie star!” she had breathed, covering her mouth like she couldn’t believe it. “My bestie boo an Italian movie star! That’s why I named you Estella. I always knew you’d be a star—no matter what you decided to do in life. Estella Valentina Fausti on the big screen! Woop! Woop! ”

The movie was going to start filming after our second wedding, and it was nice that it would be filmed in another walled city in Sicily. Noemi said it was the perfect location, and Carlo Bondi had agreed. I’d met him about a week ago. We’d had a formal dinner at Luca’s castello and discussed more than just film. I liked Signore Bondi. He was an older man who smelled like some kind of expensive alcohol and cigars, and he was as warm as the Italians I had come to love.

Matteo put Saverio in charge of security, and since the town was mostly vacant, Saverio said security wasn’t going to be a challenge. The town would be paid sufficiently to close its road in and out for a few months, basically the entire place, and have guards everywhere.

Speaking of guards…I hit my horn at Oscar and Noemi, who were walking side by side down the road. I wasn’t sure what was going on between those two, but I decided not to stick my nose in it anymore. The two guards behind me honked at him too, but I could tell they did it to make him scrunch up his face. I could see them laughing in the rear-view mirror.

Niccolo answered the door to the villa, and after he greeted me, he stepped to the side so I could come inside. Mom was on the couch, bundled up, taking a nap. She looked tired. She’d had a treatment the day before, and I could tell it had taken a lot out of her. She never complained, so she wouldn’t have told me if it made her feel bad. I decided to let her rest.

“Sit down,” she said in her sleep.

“Mom?”

“Who else?”

I laughed quietly. “I thought you’d be up by now.”

She cracked one eye open. “Niccolo fed me a big breakfast. It knocked me out.”

I looked at him and he lifted his hands, a sly grin on his face. He kissed her on the forehead, and her hand came up, fisting his shirt, but she let go when he went to walk into another room. It seemed so natural, so…effortless. Like me and Matteo.

Hmmm…

Sitting, I sighed. “You have something to tell me, Mom?”

“Yeah,” she said, sticking her hand out of the covers. I gave her my hand, helping her to a sitting position. “I’m okay. Don’t worry. I was being serious about that breakfast. Lord, I’m full!”

“That’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“No.” She looked away from me and sighed. “I talked to the doctor yesterday.” Her eyes flew to mine. “I’m okay. Better than I was when I came here. He said he really thinks I’m going to beat this. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, baby. You need to be screened.”

“For what you have?” We’d decided not to use the “C” word. We refused to speak it out loud and give it more power.

She nodded. “We went over what I knew about my family history, and what I’ve learned from what Saverio told me he found, and…my mom had this, and my grandmother…all ovarian.”

“So, it might be hereditary?”

“It’s best to be checked to find out.” She patted my hand, not really answering my question.

“If I’m at risk?” My heart started to beat faster, because if I was, I had an idea of where this was going. They might want to take out the cells. And that might mean I might not be able to carry children. Because I need my ovaries to have babies.

“We’ll figure that out if that’s the bridge we’re forced to cross.”

“Okay,” I whispered, but panic set in deep inside of me. I could feel it vibrating beneath the surface, like Matteo’s old truck in Louisiana. I squeezed her hand, pretending like everything was fine. Just a precautionary measure, right? “I’m going to let you rest, mom. Want to go for a ride later?”

She hugged me, and it was tighter than usual. “I’ll get slapped by twigs anytime with you, bestie boo.”

I laughed, but it was only to hold back the tears, or the vomit I felt might erupt from my stomach. On the other side of the door, I almost turned around and went back inside. I wanted to hug my mom again, cry into her shoulder, but she was already struggling. I heard her start to cry after Niccolo shut the door behind me. But who I really needed was my husband. I wanted to fall into his strong arms and tell him how fucking scared I was. What if we couldn’t have children? I wanted that with him more than anything.

And…

What would that mean for him?

He wanted them too—more than anything.

And he loved this family. It was his passion. He’d lived his entire life thinking one day it would be his to rule. And a ruler without children? I didn’t think that was allowed. That was why family law pushed for the man who would be king to get married early. Not only did it prove to them that the man would be committed, but that he’d have children to carry on his lineage by the time he rose to the throne.

Fuck.

I pulled out of the driveway and hit the gas, looking for a quiet spot to be alone with my thoughts. I ventured deeper onto the property, but before I could go any further, the guard driving the off-road vehicle behind me hit the horn. I ignored him, because…where was I going to go? Over the fucking wall?

But then the road narrowed some, and it turned into deeply settled, packed dirt. I was hitting holes that I thought might suck the small car under. I came to a halting stop when a wall suddenly appeared in front of me. It wasn’t tall enough to hide the top of whatever was behind it. It looked like the top of a colosseum.

The first guard driving had parked behind me, and he ran toward my car. The second guard in the passenger seat stepped out, watching the road behind us.

I didn’t even know this guard. “Signora Fausti,” he said in a respectful voice. “We will turn around now.”

It wasn’t a question, but an order spoken with respect.

“I can’t go any further,” I whispered. “I’ll just sit here.”

He studied my face, and his eyes were soft. “I will drive you to a nicer spot.”

After a second, I nodded and, keeping my dress down, slid over to the passenger seat.

Rules.

Rules were that if we were out and in the “city,” we had to dress like we belonged to this family. With respect. Something Nonno called la bella figura . I didn’t mind it. My clothes were truly beautiful and comfortable, but it didn’t make this moment any easier on me. The clothes couldn’t stop me from falling apart on the inside.

The first guard said something to the second guard, then took the driver’s seat. I could see that the second guard was speaking. Probably had someone on the phone.

The drive to the more scenic spot didn’t take long, and the first guard got back into the off-road vehicle, giving me privacy. I didn’t even care about the view. I hugged the steering wheel, thinking about what I’d have to do soon.

Be prepared for news I was not prepared for.

If , like mom had said, if we had to cross that bridge.

But I could mentally see that bridge up ahead, though, and it seemed like it was getting closer and closer to me, and what I was seeing was on fire.

Because something nagged at me. Something Matteo had told me.

Luca had a first wife, from an arrangement, and she couldn’t have children. Brando was created out of love, and it all worked out between Luca and Maggie, but the rest of his children were from different women. Rocco, Dario, and Romeo all had different mothers. It was impossible to tell, because all of Luca’s sons were different versions of him, but Brando’s brothers were conceived after Brando with the different women. Luca had agreed to the arrangements to keep the lineage going.

What if…what if I couldn’t have children? What if, to save Matteo’s place in line, I would have to agree to something like that? Or would I be able to sacrifice that for him? Giving him up to just the act of intercourse with other women for the sake of his love for the Fausti family? His grandfather was a traditional man, in some ways, and I wasn’t sure if harvesting my eggs and using a surrogate would even be accepted.

My head was shaking before my mind was even finished with the thoughts.

I refused to— couldn’t— live with that.

“Baby.”

A sigh that held so much weight released from my chest. Then my eyes rose to meet his.

He opened the door to the car, lifted me out, and walked us home. My head was tucked into the crook of his neck so no one else could see my face. It was beyond tears. It was frozen in fear.

The house was empty, and that both comforted and haunted me. I wanted to be alone with my husband so he could make me feel stronger with just the determined look in his eyes. But it was also a reminder of what might be for us.

An empty house without children’s laughter.

After he set me down on our bed, he undressed me, then grabbed some comfy lounge clothes from our closet. He dressed me, then went into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. He sat next to me, gently washing my face, before he flung the rag into the bathroom.

He was angry but trying to hide it.

“Why are you mad?” I whispered.

He shook his head and ran his hand tenderly down my face. “I should have been there for that fucking conversation.”

“You know?” I grasped his hand, like he might keep me from slipping and falling right onto that burning bridge.

His hands were as strong as iron as he brought our hands to his mouth, but the inner voice that seemed to belong to him whispered to me that, deep below that strong exterior, he was trembling as hard as me. “Yeah. Niccolo called me.”

“What—” What are we going to do? I was about to say, but he was already in action.

He’d stood up and was going for the bathroom. A minute later, he came out with more clothes. This time, they were comfortable, but something I would have worn outside of the villa.

“Teo?”

“I’ll be back in a second to dress you,” he said.

“W-where are we going?”

He swiped my phone from the bedside table, his eyes lit up by the screen, his thumb working like he was scrolling through numbers. “To the doctor.”

“No!” I shouted, but he was already walking to the front of the house. No, no, no, I wasn’t ready for the doctor yet. I’d just learned that my life might be altered, irrevocably, and I needed time to process. But I knew Matteo’s way of dealing with the world and all issues. He hit them straight on. I kept my head buried in the sand for as long as I could.

His phone rang in the bathroom. It stopped ringing and must have gone to voicemail, then started ringing again, and I went for it. The name “Marci” lit up the screen, and I knew it was Marciano, Mariano messing with Matteo by changing Marciano’s name. He did shit like that to get a rise out of his brothers. All but Maestro, who just smiled at their antics. The only time Mia seemed to get involved was when she felt she had no choice.

“Hello,” I breathed, answering it.

“Matteo, we need to talk, brother.”

I opened my mouth to say Matteo had…gone somewhere in the house, but Marciano, in Marciano style, took a right hook straight through my voice.

“I’m in Maremma with mamma and papà. Mariano was out riding, and mamma got that look on her face. The one she does when something bad happens.” He took a breath. “A few minutes later, the guards came rushing back, saying that the Cappello family demanded a meeting with the house of Fausti. Shit.” He took another breather. “Long story short, brother, you need to get down here. Mariano got one of the Cappello women pregnant. Are you halfway out the door? Nonno and Magpie are on their way here now.” A second later. “Hello?”

“Uh,” I wasn’t sure what to say, because maybe I shouldn’t have heard all of that.

Matteo saved me by storming into the bathroom, stopping short when he noticed me standing with his phone in my hand.

“Here.” My arm shot out. “It’s your brother, Marciano, for you.”

He took the phone and hung up without saying anything.

“Matteo,” I said, my heart in my throat, but I didn’t want him to see the panic rising in my chest, about to drown me. When Scarlett sensed something was about to happen in Maremma, I had a feeling it was about me, not Mariano and the woman he got pregnant. A baby was a blessing, not bad news. If Matteo knew that, he might really lose it, and I was so very close to losing it.

Like, a breath away from losing my breakfast…

Yeah, it was making a comeback.

I ran to the bathroom, Matteo on my heels, and purged every ounce of food and liquid in my stomach into the toilet.

Matteo held my hair. “Baby,” he said, and this time, his voice was strong, but on the surface only. Below the sweet nickname he had for me, there was a tremble.

I held my hand up. “Okay. I’m okay. Just nerves. I didn’t expect to go to the doctor so soon.”

He picked me up and brought me to the sink, nodding for me to open my mouth so he could brush my teeth, but I shook my head and took it from him.

“The quicker they find out, the better,” he said. “We can do something about it now, if something shows up.”

“Yeah. Sure. You’re right.” I smiled at him.

His eyes hardened. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Lie to me.”

“You’re right. I’m freaking the fuck out, Matteo.”

He pulled me in, but I tried to push away. I hadn’t had a chance to brush my teeth yet, but he didn’t care. He kept kissing my face, giving me no chance to escape his strong touch. But he was also in a rush, like getting me to the doctor in the next few hours was going to change the trajectory of my life.

He watched me brush my teeth, almost impatiently, and when I was done, he went back into my closet and picked out more clothes for me. He’d already done that, but I didn’t say anything. All I could think was that I made sense of why my grandmother had blamed my mother.

Maybe if they could have taken out the bad cells before she got pregnant with my mom, she might still be here.