Page 15 of Silent Night With Alessio

I’ve seen so many news articles, heard the whispers about her; they say she’s as fierce as any of the men, with loyalty as thick as blood.

Behind her stands a man, silent and watchful. I quickly deduce that his name is Luca, Alessio, calling the name out as they greet. From the way he stands close to Fiamma, it’s clear he is her bodyguard. He’s tall, solid, with a stoic expression that gives nothing away.

Fiamma’s gaze flicks to me, her eyebrows lifting over the rim of her sunglasses, and then she breaks into a grin. “So this is the Marino girl, huh?” she says, giving me a once over. “Not bad. Love the hair.”

Her compliment catches me off guard, and I feel a blush creeping up my neck. “Thanks,” I mumble, managing a shy smile.

Fiamma chuckles, flicking ash from her cigarette. “I like you,” she declares, as if that’s the end, as if she’s already decided. “Takes guts to get mixed up in our world.”

Luca leans in to speak quietly to Alessio, his words too low for me to catch, but there’s a slight nod from Alessio, a shift in his stance. Whatever they’re talking about, it’s private, and I know better than to ask.

Soon, it’s time for us to leave.

Fiamma gives me one last approving look, and with a wave of her hand, she and Luca disappear as quickly as they came.

I watch them go, a strange feeling twisting in my chest. Fiamma’s got that boldness I wish I could muster, a confidence that doesn’t care what anyone thinks.

I can’t help but envy it, even if I’d never admit it out loud. For a moment, I imagine what it would feel like to have that kind of strength, that kind of certainty.

But there’s no time to dwell on it. We’ve got work to do. We climb into the car and get going.

The first jeweler’s shop is a way out of town, a small, unassuming place run by a man named Tomasso. The drive is quiet, the silence heavy, punctuated only by the sound of the tires on the road.

Alessio’s focus is absolute, his gaze never straying from the road. I don’t fill the silence; I know by now that he’s a man of few words, and anything I’d say would just feel… intrusive.

When we pull up to Tomasso’s shop, he’s standing outside, a big, bald man with a beard that looks like it could rival a grizzly bear’s.

His eyes are sharp, unimpressed, and he doesn’t so much as flinch when he sees Alessio step out of the car. I feel Tomasso’s not intimidated, a quality that’s rare and refreshing.

We head inside, and Alessio pulls out the ring, holding it up for Tomasso to see.

The jeweler eyes it with casual interest, then lets out a laugh…a deep, rumbling sound that fills the room.

“This?” he says, smirking. “Replacing a perching phoenix with a chicken scratching the ground? That’s a level of disrespect that is beyond hilarious.”

Alessio bristles beside me and I put a hand on his arm to calm him down. Tomasso looks between Alessio and me with a raised eyebrow, amused by the whole situation.

“Hey, it’s funny, but it wasn’t me,” he adds, crossing his arms. “It’s a pretty good dupe, but I wouldn’t disgrace my tools with such shoddy work. I only make originals. Why’re you asking me, anyway?”

I shrug. “You’re one of the few people I know who can work this good.”

Tomasso smiles. “Well, that’s a compliment if I ever heard one. Too bad I can’t help you though, sorry.”

I glance at Alessio, unsure of how he’ll react to Tomasso’s bluntness, but he just narrows his eyes, studying the man.

They both stare at each other, some battle of wills going down without a word spoken.

Alessio holds his gaze a moment longer, then nods, satisfied.

We turn to leave, and as we step back into the chilly air, I let out a small sigh of relief. One down, two to go.

Micah, the next jeweler, is a family man, his shop cozy and filled with laughter as his young children play around his feet. His wife, pregnant, gives me a warm smile as she bustles around the store.

The jeweler himself, a friend from my past, takes one look at the ring and shakes his head, his expression serious.

“I’d never make a fake like that, Isabella,” he whispers, looking me straight in the eye. “And I wouldn’t risk your life for any amount. Your grandpa was such a kind man to me.”

His words hit me harder than I expect, a lump forming in my throat. I thank him, trying to keep my composure, and we head back to the car.

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