Page 5 of Single Malt Drama

We traveled the rest of the twelve kilometers from my family home to the rendezvous point in silence. Levanzo was little more than a big rock with a fishing village dropped on it. As I’d hoped, the warm weather brought out tourists and locals alike. Boats of all shapes and sizes littered the shallow waters.

As kids, Marco and I had spent countless summers exploring the shoreline. Though I hadn’t visited our secret place in years, I remembered the way to the hidden cave.

Alessio slowed as we rounded the peninsula on the northwest side of the island.

“There, see the tall rock?” I pointed toward the rugged shore. “It’s just on the other side.”

Keeping his eyes on the water, he asked, “Are you frightened for yourself or for us?”

I dipped my chin. “Both. I don’t think my brothers were close enough to recognize you, but if my father finds out you helped me…”

A broad grin split his face. “They did not notice me in all the years I worked for your father. Now I am one of thousands of faceless old men. I do not worry they recognized me.”

That makes one of us.

Maria offered me a smile that reminded me of happier days. “Why did you leave? The entire story, not only what you think we can handle. We are old, not stupid.”

I debated sugarcoating it, but I had a shot at a new life. I didn’t want to build it on a foundation of more lies. Lately, I’d been so dishonest I could barely remember what was fact and what was fiction. “I was ordered to marry Enzo Marchionni.”

Alessio tilted his head. “He is a good man.”

“He’s a wonderful man…for someone else.” My behavior toward Enzo over the previous few months had been reprehensible. He had every right to hate me, but I prayed he would find it in his heart to forgive me once he learned the truth.

Maria gave me a knowing look. “He was never the Marchionni your heart wanted.”

“My heart doesn’t want any of them. Marco and I are just friends.” Even if I did, things would never work out between us. Marco was a player. Plus, I didn’t believe for a second Gabe would be able to break free from the mafia. No matter how sweet Marco was now, the business had a way of changing men. I hadn’t left an overbearing father to be with an overbearing boyfriend or husband.

Thankfully, Alessio interrupted the conversation. “Is that Marco?”

I shielded my eyes and squinted at the pocket yacht anchored nearest to the entrance of the cave. We were still too far away for me to read the writing on the stern. “I’m not sure?”

“I will move closer, but you must hide.” He motioned for me to get down.

I cringed at the brownish water sloshing around and sank to my hands and knees. This is what my life has come to. Crouching in filth.

Maria draped the tarp over me. The disgusting fabric smelled worse than the bilge water. I remained as still as possible when Alessio accelerated through the choppy waters. The faster we went, the more the foul liquid splashed. If we didn’t reach the yacht soon, I’d need to take a dip in the sea, or Marco wouldn’t be able to stand my stench.

A horn blew three times and male voices carried over the waves.

Alessio removed the tarp and helped me to my feet. “These are our rescuers, yes?”

Maria chuckled. “Of course it is. Don’t you recognize them?”

“They are men now. The last time I saw them they were boys.” He continued muttering under his breath.

Grinning at their bickering, I waved to the brothers. Marco was the only person I could think of to help me, and the next to the last person my father would ever suspect.

Marco and Dante were only a year apart in age and were often mistaken for twins. They had the same dark curly hair, startling green eyes, and olive complexion as the rest of their siblings, but that’s where the similarities ended. Dante, the youngest of the five surviving Marchionni boys, rarely smiled. He had a cool, calculating way about him that made me nervous.

Marco, on the other hand…where do I start with Marco? His expression reminded me of someone who knew the punchline to every joke. He was usually grinning, and he always looked like he was thinking of sex—not surprising, he had a lot of it.

I turned my attention to the two men coming alongside the fishing boat in a dinghy.

While Dante didn’t seem thrilled to see me, he managed not to scowl. “Nico.”

“Hi, Dante. Thank you for coming.”

Grunting his reply, he helped Maria, Alessio, and their bags onto the dinghy.

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