Cristiano and Isaia came running down the hall, giggling at whatever game they'd been playing. Isaia ran into me and wrapped his arms around my legs. He looked up at me, black eyes shining. I smiled down at him and put a hand on his head. Then he went running back down the hall after his brother, both of them thumping like elephants. Elda yelled after them to wash up for dinner.
I took a cup from the cupboard and poured some water from the fridge. I took a sip, set it on the counter and peeked into the oven through the glass door. The gnocchi was bubbling and the smell of tomatoes and cheese filled the kitchen. My mouth watered. I could feel the heat radiating from the glass door of the oven. Without thinking, I opened the oven door and reached in. I picked up the casserole dish. One hundred and sixty three degrees. The fire had given me the ability to read temperature. My mouth twitched, impressed in spite of myself.
"Saxony!"
I turned, holding the bubbling ragù. She stood there, her eyes wide, a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other. She blinked a few times and then her face softened. "It doesn't burn you, does it?"
I shook my head. "I can feel the temperature, every degree, but..." I set the dish down on the marble countertop and showed her my palms. The skin was pink, healthy, and un-singed.
Twenty-Five
I spotted Raf before he spotted me. He stood in front of the gelato shop where we'd agreed to meet, in line behind a woman with three kids crowding around her legs. One was crying and snotty nosed and the other two screamed the way kids do when they're trying out their voices. I winced at the pitch the little girl hit; the kind of piercing scream that felt like it was poking you in the brain. The poor mother juggled her purse, a wallet, and an ice cream cone.
Raf stepped up and took a cone from the man behind the counter. He handed it to the screaming girl, who instantly shut up. Then he took the other cone while the woman paid and handed it to the little boy, who looked like he was about to have a full-on meltdown. The child took the cone and stuffed it into his face instead. I smiled at the gratitude on the mother’s face. She dropped her wallet into her purse, picked up the littlest kid and the family shuffled off to find a table.
"Aren't you a gentleman," I said.
He turned and smiled. "Ciao Saxony. Come stai?" He kissed both my cheeks, his hand at my waist.
I kissed his cheeks back. "Sto bene, anche?" I said, telling him I was well and asking him how he is in return.
"Bene, bene. I'm glad to see you're in one piece. Which flavour would you like?" He pointed to the display of brightly coloured gelato. I chose stracciatella and bacio, a kind of chocolate with hazelnut in it that tasted a lot like the chocolate hedgehogs I could get back home. I took a single serving wet nap from a bowl on the counter in anticipation of a mess. Raf ordered Mint in a cup for himself and paid. We strolled toward an empty park bench with our gelato.
"Glad to see I'm in one piece?" I licked the bacio flavor and the sweet nutty flavor melted on my tongue. Gelato had been a brilliant idea. The cool ice cream pooled in my belly, soothing the heat.
"At the risk of sounding jealous, Dante isn't exactly the best choice of company. Of all the people in Venezia, I can't believe you met him."
"You're not jealous?" I teased. "Just a little bit?"
A dimple appeared in his cheek. "I tried jealousy once, but it didn't work. Just concerned. May I ask what he wanted with you? I'm sorry to sound nosy, but I can't help but worry that you don't know what you're getting into with him."
He sounded so serious. "What do you know about Dante?” I caught a drip of stracciatella before it went over my fingers.
"I know a lot, actually. I went to school with Dante. We're the same age. We were close at one time, almost like brothers." Raf dipped into his gelato with a tiny spoon and I regretted not choosing a cup. The weather was too warm and my gelato was melting too fast for me to keep up.
"What happened?" I spun my ice cream against my tongue to catch all of the drips.
"It's a long story, but I'll give you the short version. Dante and I became friends the day we met, which was the first day of first grade. We had a lot in common. We played soccer together, had the same classes, and we liked the same video games. In winter, we'd play in his basement for hours. I even got attached to his dad, Enzo."
"You know Enzo?" My ears perked at the name of the man who had yet to collect a debt from Elda.
"I did. Enzo really took a shine to me, but I didn't know why until I got older."
"Why?"
"He saw me as the son that Dante wasn't. Dante has always had a mean streak."
"Enzo didn't like that?" I would have thought that a mean streak would be tablestakes for the son of a crime boss.
Raf shook his head. "I know. It's counterintuitive. But, no. Over the years, Dante got jealous of how much his dad liked me. Enzo treated me like a son. You have to understand that Dante lives and dies by his father's approval. By Enzo's eyes, he was never good enough. The rift between them only grew as Dante got older. Enzo is a powerful man in Venezia, and I'm sure his authority extends well beyond the Veneto region by now."
"I don't have the impression he got that power by following the law." I crunched into my cone.
"No, you're right. But you might be surprised at what a paradox the guy is." Raf lowered his voice a fraction and I suppressed the urge to look over my shoulder. "I mean yes, he's not a law-abiding citizen. But he does operate by a kind of moral code. He's out for himself and his family, but he's also out for Venezia. I've seen him do generous things: donating money to charity, helping families in need. Compassion is a strategy that can help get him what he wants, buy the goodwill of the people and all that. But other times, I know he resorts to violence to get stuff done. He's got a lot of guys working for him. Long arms, you know?"
"Sounds like The Godfather." I laughed. Then I actually did look over my shoulder. All this talk was so strange. I'd seen mafia movies. I got the gist of how it worked, but it had always seemed like fiction to me.
Raf smiled. "Pretty much. The sad part is that Dante really looks up to his dad. He's desperate to follow in his footsteps. But Dante does it all wrong. He’s just a tyrant. I don't know where Enzo went wrong raising him, but if Dante ever takes control of the Barberini fortune, I'll leave the region." He said it without a trace of sarcasm.
"Do you think Enzo knows that his son would make a bad... what do you call it... Don? Is that the right term?"
Raf laughed. "You could say Boss, and I don't know. I haven't spent time with that family since I was twelve or so. I would guess so, though." He lowered his voice again. "They are a crime family, and I'm sure Enzo has a good idea of the kind of person he wants taking over one day." He finished the last of his gelato and tossed the cup and spoon into the recycling containers behind the park bench. He put an arm over the back of the chair and faced me. "Anyway, enough about the Barberinis. I just thought you should be aware."
"Thanks, I appreciate the concern." I popped the last of my cone into my mouth. I wiped my hands with the wet nap and tossed it in the trash. "When you were spending time with Dante, did you ever meet a guy named Nicodemo?"
Raf's eyebrows shot up. "How do you know about Nic?"
"Dante mentioned him. Did you know him?"
Raf nodded. "I met him. I got a good feeling from him. Warm, you know?"
My mouth twitched at his accidental pun…or did Raf know what Nic was?
"I didn't have much to do with him," he continued. "He was one of Enzo's best men. He was always gone for some reason or another.”
"Did..." I tried to think about how to ask what I wanted to know. "Was there anything different about him?
Raf looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" It was clear from his vacant expression that Raf didn't know that Nic was a fire magus.
"Nothing, just curious," I back-pedaled. "Do you know what happened to Nic?"
"No idea. The only Barberini I associate with these days is Fed. She told me he passed away but couldn't tell me the specifics. It's a mystery."
I froze. "Fed is a Barberini?"