Page 105 of Sins of the Orchid
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The evening was going great. Amore entertained with stories of her childhood with her mother. It would seem even as a child, Amore was stubbornly independent. The ambiance in the restaurant, Santamonica, was great, the view over the sea and the sounds of waves were relaxing.
Going over the events of her first participation in the fashion show when she was nine, she couldn’t hide the soft expression in her eyes. It was a good memory, but memories of her mom came hand-in-hand with sadness.
“I wanted pink,” she continued her story. “And unless she gave me pink, I was determined to wreak havoc upon the fashion show. I threw a fit, adamant that nobody would go on the runway unless I was given something pink to wear. Anything, but it had to be pink. It was my favorite color.” She chuckled softly. “Pink clashed with my hair, and I knew that, but I loved the color.”
“I bet you got your way,” I mused. I loved hearing her talk about her life before I met her. It gave glimpses of who she was before she was sucked into the Cosa Nostra.
“Well, Mom was rather clever too,” she retorted dryly. “After none of the promises of ice cream worked, she finally had me promise that if she let me wear something pink, I would go willingly and with a smile onto the runway. Thinking I won, I eagerly agreed.”
I cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.
“She handed me a pair of pink socks.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed, but a wistful look entered them. She still missed her mother. “So, if you really wanted to, you’d find a picture of my mother and I at the end of the big fashion show where I’m wearing a blue dress, odd pink socks with black Mary Jane shoes.” A laugh boomed in my chest, and she pretended to be offended, though a soft smile curved her lips “Not the best fashion statement.”
“I’m sure you looked adorable,” I teased. “Though knowing how much you love ice cream, I’m surprised that blackmail didn’t work.”
She chuckled. “She wouldn’t have upheld the threat of denying me anyhow and I knew it.”
“Why not?” I asked curiously.
“It was our daily routine,” she said. “It is the reason I love ice cream so much. Mom and I would have ice cream every day, no matter what was going on. We’d talk about fashion, school, books, boys… anything. It was our time.”
I didn’t have to ask to know she didn’t get that when she was thrown into the Bennetti life. Initially, Savio’s wife made her life hell by hurting her, and knowing Savio’s schedule, he probably didn’t have a similar routine.
“I’m guessing you didn’t continue that tradition with your dad?”
She tilted her head. “No, he and Luigi worked a lot.” I nodded, understanding that too well. Being a don and staying on top required a lot of hours away from home. “But Lorenzo and I got into a routine. More frequently than not, we’d each have a bowl of ice cream, sit in front of the TV and chat about stuff.”
I knew Lorenzo and Amore had gotten close. Both brothers were protective over her, but Lorenzo took more time than Luigi, and even Adriano, to talk to Amore and get to know her.
“Well, well, well.” A familiar voice came across the restaurant, and I recognized it before I spotted her.
Fuck!Of all the people, why her?
CHAPTER34
Amore
“Grandma!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet while the chair fell behind me with a loud thud. “Where did you come from?” I blurted out stupidly.
My eyes ping-ponged between her and Santi. He didn’t seem bothered, though annoyance lurked in his dark eyes. I didn’t anticipate running into anyone during this week. I wasn’t prepared nor ready to start explanations. I’ve been meaning to talk to Santi about coming clean to my dad.
Grandma stood next to our table, looking stylish in her black Chanel dress, white pearls around her neck, and her silver hair perfectly styled. She looked pristine and Regalè, like a queen.
“I could ask you the same,” Grandma replied. I noticed her two guards hanging back, and she probably had a few more outside. Considering our family history, she was adamant about protection. “What are you doing here alone?”
I swallowed, my pulse racing. “I-I’m not alone. Santi is with me.” Santi came behind me, startling me. I hadn’t even realized he’d stood up. He had already picked up the chair. He placed his hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. Our eyes connected, a possession in his dark depths. I returned my gaze to Grandma’s and forced a smile. Something about the confident and unperturbed way he was moving gave me my own strength.
It wasn’t like Grandma could regulate my life. I was twenty-one, had my own money, a new business that I had started with Maria. This was my life, not hers. Not anyone else’s. “You remember him, I’m certain.”
Santi had already returned to his chair and sat down, leaning back with one elbow on the armrest. He focused on my grandmother with sardonic, dark eyes, challenging her to say something.
Her green gaze, so similar to mine in color, watched him with narrowed eyes, and I held my breath. This was not exactly how I expected to break the news to my family.
She pulled out a free chair and lowered herself onto it.
“May I join you?” she asked, though she was already seated.
