Page 28 of Velvet Chains

The sudden sound of footsteps in our direction was a needed distraction. As if choreographed, our faces swung toward the entrance. It was Pietro.

My brother walked in tapping on his phone. He glanced up at us and put his phone away.

“Buongiorno.” He said, and I nodded at him in response. Isabelle remained silent. Something in our behavior must have clued him in because he soon turned to face me with a raised eyebrow.

Pietro had an extremely expressive face, and he could get his point across easily without saying a single word. He didn't have to speak for me to know that he had noticed the strange atmosphere and was subtly asking what was up.

I cleared my throat and continued pretending to read the paper. I flipped a page to make it look more convincing, I could hear Isabelle's tapping on her laptop get faster and more intense, like she was really working on something important. I had no idea if she, like me, was just killing time. However, Pietro's voice interrupted us.

“What’s going on with you two?” He finally asked. The only reaction to his question was silence. I could see Isabelle fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat, and I didn't want to get into it either. So we both stayed silent. I simply shook my head at my brother, as if to tell him to drop the topic.

But I could see that Pietro was not going to back down. I motioned for him to sit next to me.

“I’m handling it. Don't worry about it.” I finally said.

“I'm sure you can handle it, but I don't know if our family's reputation can. You know that with your campaign for the Cupola, things are really tricky right now. When I ask if everything is fine, it's because we need everything to be fine.” Pietro spoke slowly, and I listened. It was rare for him to speak so much. I understood his concerns about my relationship with Isabelle, but I believed I had things under control.

“Everything I'm doing, everything I have done is for the election.” I responded in a low tone. Pietro still looked doubtful. I spoke softly so Isabelle wouldn't hear me, that in itself was a problem. I was trying to spare her feelings. There was only one reason why I would do that, and it was something I refused to admit.

A lot was riding on the election and I did not have the luxury of indulging in feelings. So no matter what I felt for Isabelle, I could not explore or admit it right now.

However, at my words, Isabelle looked up with reddish eyes. She had heard me. Once again, I felt awful. We both knew the real circumstances behind our relationship, but we couldn't stop ourselves from getting our feelings involved. I could tell that I had hurt her again.

A small snort interrupted my thoughts, I turned to look at Pietro again. He still looked unconvinced. I stepped out of the room, Pietro following right after me, so we could speak freely.

“What about the collaboration with Don Antonio? That's a risky move, brother.” He said, and I wanted to groan out loud.

He was right, working with Don Antonio was like trying to ride a tiger; you always had to be aware that the tiger could buck you off and maul you at any given moment. It wasn't a decision I came to easily, and no matter what either of us said, we knew that this was merely a temporary truce.

“I know he isn't to be trusted, but great risk, great reward,” I said. It was something our father used to say before he died. Of course, our father died taking risks, so maybe quoting him at this moment wasn't the best thing to do.

During the last Cupola meeting, Don Antonio and I had agreed on a temporary truce, which he obviously had not been respecting. However, the idea was that we had to work together to find out who murdered Don Salvatore Messina and bring him to the Cupola triumvirate.

By killing Don Salvatore, someone had messed up the fragile ecosystem of the families. So whoever found the killer would get the respect of the other Dons and that of course would translate into support for the upcoming elections.

My main suspect was Don Antonio, and I believed he was just trying to cover his tracks. If I could get proof of this, I could inflict a serious blow on him. The currently vacant place in the Cupola triumvirate would be mine. I couldn't pass that up.

I explained this carefully to Pietro. I wanted to clear his doubts. While at home, we could disagree as much as possible, but once we were outside, we had to present a united front.

“Well, don't forget about the gathering tonight. You know how important it is for the election,” he finally said in a slightly apologetic tone. I was startled, as I had sunk so deeply into my thoughts that I had forgotten we were still chatting. I knew that was his way of saying that he was sorry for doubting me, so I nodded in response. I didn't verbally respond because I was still mulling over my previous realization. If my feelings were this tangled up over Isabelle, maybe he was right to doubt me and my plans.

However, his reminder helped me focus on what was important right now. The gathering tonight. The murder investigation. The election. Thinking about these things gave me a headache, but this was my life, and these were my responsibilities. I knew that I had to focus on the murder investigation.

With this in mind, my thoughts and gaze turned to Isabelle. I looked at her, the gears in my head turning and a plan starting to take shape.

“Isabelle” I started, and although I tried to keep my voice as gentle as possible, I knew it still sounded imposing. Her head jerked up the moment I called her name and for the first time that morning, she looked straight at me.

“You'll need a new dress for tonight's event.” I said, and she frowned in response.

“I don't think so. I have a perfectly good dress. The dress I wore to the wedding will do just fine. It's pretty and fancy enough for any event.” She said stubbornly. Her response made me scoff. Her dress was pretty but she needed something truly stunning to rub shoulders with the people we were going to meet. And she had been all over the gossip papers in it.

“It’s unacceptable for my fiancée to wear the same dress twice. You need something new, something that fits the occasion.” I said, and although she still had a stubborn look on her face, my words seemed to convince her.

“Just so you won't be shopping alone, why not invite your friend Sarah and make a day of it?” I suggested and, although she nodded, the look on her face told me that she was frustrated.

Maybe she didn't like how easily I had made plans for her, but I figured that she would be happy with the idea of seeing a familiar face.

"Don't forget we made a deal," I reminded her.

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