Page 37 of Mafia Kings: Dario

All the brothers (and Lars) were seated around the table, three on each side. Dario sat at the head of the table on the other end of the room.

His eyes flashed at the sight of me – and his eyes dropped to the dress.

He didn’t smile, exactly, but his gaze was softer when he looked me in the eyes again.

Valentino whistled.

Massimo gently smacked him on the back of his head.

“What?! She looks beautiful!” Valentino protested to the others. “Don’t tell meyou’renot all thinking it, too!”

I blushed.

“Sit, Alessandra,” Niccolo said from his spot at Dario’s right hand. “We saved the seat of honor for you.”

Roberto, who was closest to me, stood up and pulled out the empty chair at the far end of the table from Dario. Then he pushed it underneath me as I sat.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Thank you for joining us,bella,”Niccolo said. “And punctual, too!”

“Yes, well, you should congratulate yourselves,” I said. “I’ve never seen six Italian men be on time foranything.”

Everyone chuckled except for Dario.

Although he smiled… just barely.

“It’s Lars,” Niccolo joked. “His Swedish-ness cancels out our perpetual Italian lateness and makes us all on time.”

“I thought it might beil Duceat the head of the table there,” I said, nodding at Dario, “making the trains run on time.”

My joke was met with silence.

For a second I was worried I had made a horrible misstep –

And then the entire room burst into laughter.

Even Dario grinned.

“Mussolini Rosolini,” Niccolo rhymed.

“What can I say,” Dario said. “It’s good to be dictator.”

The brothers laughed, but his little joke set my teeth on edge.

Dariowasthe dictator of the house…

And his boot was firmly on my neck, just as my life was in his hands.

I tried to ignore my feelings of resentment, but they slowly built throughout dinner.

Perhaps a little of my boldness increased with the delicious red wine. I might have had a littletoomuch with dinner, which was marvelous. I had never eaten so many wonderfully prepared foods. Servants came and went in silence, whisking away plates and setting down new dishes:

Bowls ofpappa al pomodoro,tomato soup made of sun-ripened Tuscan tomatoes.

Tagliolini al tartufo, long ribbons of pasta drizzled in melted butter, garlic, and shaved black truffle.

Potato tortelli,pasta filled with mashed potatoes and seasoned with garlic and sage.

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