《All The Broken Liars || **COMPLETED** || An Every Made Man Novel (Book Two)》XXXXV. BETTER DAYS
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FORTY-FIVE |
on the way to the field where the match would be played, his hand slipping easily into mine. Amber and Sofia seemed to have overcome their differences and were talking animatedly ahead of us. Without a word, we began to drop back from the crowd, falling behind the stragglers so that we could talk alone.
"I missed you," I said with a smile, glancing up to Arturo's handsome face which already seemed more tanned.
"And I missed you." He leaned down to kiss me, lips lingering on my mouth. "Are you excited to watch the match?"
Something in Arturo's expression told me that he wanted the answer to be yes; he wanted to share this part of his family's history with me.
"Very," I replied honestly. "I used to ride when I was a little girl. My father sometimes took me to polo matches."
"And which team will you be supporting?"
My answer to this question seemed somehow important, though in all honesty I hadn't really thought about it. "Whichever side you support."
"Roma are arguably the better team - my father supports them because they have played many good seasons."
"But you don't support them?"
Arturo shielded his eyes from the sun and looked out in to the distance, where a few horses could be seen and under a white marquee a growing crowd of people. "Milano have better technical skills," he explained. "Roma win by speed and force, but there's something satisfying about technicality."
"Then I'll be supporting Milano."
When we finally arrived at the viewing marquee, excitement was buzzing in the air. Arturo put a hand on my lower back and guided me forward, excusing us as we moved in front of other spectators to stand at the front.
The two teams could easily be distinguished, with Rome in bright red shirts and Milan in vibrant green. The players trotted their polo ponies around the match area, practicing different swings with their mallets.
As Arturo and I watched the teams warming up, I felt a hand on my shoulder that didn't belong to him. When I turned, I saw that Dina was standing just behind us.
"We'll he starting in a moment," she said, offering me a smile. Her brown eyes flitted to Arturo's and lost some of their warmth. Something seemed to crackle in the air between them, something unspoken that I didn't understand.
Arturo cleared his throat. "We are looking forward to it."
Dina nodded, patting her son's back. "I'll see you later," she said. "It's time to begin."
"Is everything alright?" I wondered, turning to watch the teams again.
"Of course," he assured me. "Madre and my father have to start the match."
We both glanced over to the end of the marquee, where Dina and Gio stood holding hands. It was a strange sight, seeing them so close. Arturo's father was a tall, terrifying man, with a long face and hard eyes. He stared out at the players with an expression of steel, watching as a man I presumed was the umpire walked down the field.
When the umpire reached the teams of four, each lined up horizontally, he turned back to Gio and waited.
It felt like everybody in the marquee held their breath.
After a few seconds of tense silence, Gio nodded firmly. "Begin."
The umpire threw the ball between the teams and the first chukka began.
Arturo's hand found mine as we watched the horses race around the field, their riders keeping low and readying their mallets to take a shot. I held my breath as Milano's player one raced down the field with the ball, quickly followed by Rome. The other rider was getting closer, trying to ride him off to let another player take the ball.
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"Did you see that under the neck shot?" Arturo asked as the ball was passed from one Milano player to another, finally reaching the goal along with my breath of relief.
"I see what you mean. Rome play more aggressively than they do well."
Arturo's hand tightened around mine as Roma got the ball in their possession and made it dangerously close to their goal. Thankfully, the whistle blew just in time, indicating seven minutes was up and the first chukka was over.
"Thank god," I sighed with relief, smiling up at Arturo.
"Si. But there are three more chukkas to be played yet." He leaned down to kiss me, longer and deeper than I had expected considering both his parents were stood only feet away. "Why don't you go and see Amber while we wait for the next one to start."
"Are you bored of me?" I teased, lightly tugging on his shirt.
"Never, amore." His smile was so dazzling I could hardly argue – I simply nodded and stumbled away.
I found Amber and Sofia away from the crowd, stood under another marquee where more polo ponies were tied up, waiting to be ridden.
"Aren't they the most beautiful creatures you've ever seen, doll?" Amber smiled as I made my way over. She was patting the neck of a dun pony with four white socks. "This one is called Caramello."
I gave the horse a rub under its forelock, feeling bad for them being stuck in such a hot place all day.
Sofia had a bucket of carrots that she was taking to each pony in turn, feeding them all lovingly. It was clear that she missed being around the animals.
"You want to feed one?" She held the last carrot out to me.
"Sure."
I looked up and down the line of eight ponies until my eyes came to stop on a dappled grey mare. Her ears were pricked intently, not relaxed like the other horses, and she seemed to be stood alert. I walked over and held the carrot out.
"That's Amara," Sofia said. "She doesn't seem to be interested in treats. Tried to bite me earlier when I walked too close, I wouldn't bother."
Amara kept staring at me with glistening eyes, it was as if we were sizing each other up. I held the carrot out anyway, unafraid. After several seconds of staring, she took it.
"She clearly likes you more than me," Sofia laughed.
"She's a beautiful animal." I ran my hand along her neck, feeling the sheer strength coiled up in every muscle. Her coat shone just like her eyes, and as my hand moved closer to her head she dropped her muzzle into my palm.
"The match will be starting in a minute," Amber said, glancing over to the field. "Why don't we all go watch it together?"
We agreed and made our way over to the main marquee, bubbly from all the champagne we'd consumed. More trays came around and we all took another flute, clinking them together. As I took a sip, I felt the warmth of the alcohol in my chest, but there was another feeling of warmth, too. It pushed out of me in the form of a smile as I glanced at the two women next to me, the first women in a long time I felt I could call my friends.
"Will Art be joining..." Sofia trailed off, her eyes fixing on a point in the distance, in the opposite direction to the polo match. I felt the warmth in my chest vanish as I watched her expression.
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Just past the marquee, heading back towards the house, I spotted Arturo. And a few meters behind him, following at a distance was Cecelia.
**
As the players gathered to begin the next chukka, I noticed that Madre was nowhere to be seen. I hadn't missed the pointed glance she'd given me as she spoke to Florence and I; she wanted to see me in private.
I waited until Florence had found Sofia and Amber before leaving the marquee, walking quickly in the direction of the house. Behind me, I heard the match begin, the quick, hard thwack of the ball against a mallet. I hoped that Florence would be kept occupied by her friends for long enough not to notice my absence. I didn't want to drag her into more family drama if I didn't have to.
When I reached the house I saw that the door had been left half open. It was strange, seeing the place so quiet with everyone occupied at the polo match. I entered and immediately felt relief from the sun. Madre was in the kitchen, fixing up martinis. As I walked in, she poured the clear liquid from the cocktail shaker into two glasses and topped them with slices of lemon peel. She didn't look up, but she knew it was me.
"I'm glad you came." She slid one of the glasses in my direction and looked up. I tried to gauge her expression, but she gave nothing away.
"You always did make the best martinis."
"Shaken, not stirred," she replied, a wry smile twisting the corner of her mouth.
"You're missing the polo match."
"Milano will win."
I took a sip of the bitter liquid. "You're sure?"
"I'm always sure. Sit down."
"I prefer to stand," I said, sensing that we were about to cut to the chase. There was a purpose to this conversation and I was anxious to know what it was.
"You're your father's son," Madre smiled. She took a long sip of her martini, watching me over the rim of the glass. I'd missed the warmth of her eyes, I realised. I'd missed this place more than I thought. "But I want you to sit down."
My hands wrapped around the back of the chair next to hers. "Should I be worried?"
"Sit down and you'll find out."
Finally, I obeyed. The AC unit whirred overhead as a moment's silence fell over us. I held the stem of my glass between my fingers, twisting it around using the slick condensation that had gathered at the bottom. Again, I tried to read Madre's face, but she gave nothing away.
"Have you been looking out for Sofia, recently, Arturo?"
"She's my sister," I replied, taking a large gulp of my cocktail, "I'm always looking out for her."
"I heard what happened."
"I don't know–"
"Something of Salvo's was taken from him," she interrupted sharply. "I hear about everything that goes on in this family."
I couldn't think of an adequate way to reply, wasn't sure what would appease her, so I said nothing.
"I hear that Florence helped her." Madre swirled the liquid around her glass, wiped the smudge of lipstick she'd left on the rim. "That was a dangerous move."
"She knows that now," I said quickly. "I made sure of it. Does everybody know?"
By everybody she knew that of course I meant Padre and Salvo.
"No, they do not. Only I know. But you are lucky."
"Nothing like that will happen again. I swear it."
"On the contrary." Madre picked up a pack of cigarettes off the side, pulling one out. I recognised the brand as Sofia's. She put it between her lips but did not light it. Madre didn't smoke; she never had. "I want to ask you a favour."
My tie suddenly felt too tight around my neck, and I worked to loosen it as dread gathered in my stomach. I knew how powerful Salvo was with my father's backing – only a foolish person would undermine him.
"One day, Arturo, my husband will die. And on that day, you will inherit everything. The people you choose to keep around you are important."
"Trust me, I know."
Madre glanced around nervously, then stood up and turned on the tap. I knew she was making sure anybody listening in to the conversation couldn't hear. Then she sat down next to me again and leaned in close.
"When you inherit all of this, Salvo is not somebody you want close to you," she said quietly, her voice hard as granite. "He's not somebody you want at all."
"You're asking me to..."
"You know what I'm asking you to do. I need you to promise me."
Getting rid of Salvadore was already high up on my priority list – I didn't need to be told twice. But both of us knew the risk that would entail, whether my father was around or not.
"Of course, Madre. It will be done."
"Good." She held her glass up to toast mine, "to better days."
"To better days."
We sat in silence for a few minutes after I turned the tap off again, sipping our drinks as our agreement settled around us. Madre knew precisely what she was asking, and I knew exactly why it was necessary. I would always protect my family.
"Florence is quite the woman," Madre said eventually, changing tack. Her tone was just as neutral as her face, and I felt every part of my body tense. This conversation could go one of two ways, and I wasn't sure I was prepared for it.
"She is," I agreed. "An incredible woman."
Madre nodded and finished off her martini in one gulp. "You love her."
It wasn't a question so I didn't reply or nod. I just let the statement sit there, as if it's presence became more tangible, more true, the longer it was allowed to hang in the air.
"I suppose you don't care whether I approve or not," she continued, clearly satisfied with whatever she had found in my expression. "Your relationship with her already goes against the odds, against everything that should have been true."
"Her family–"
"I don't care about her family." Madre placed her hands on top of mine, asking for my silence. I could hear blood pounding in my ears. "I care about you. What happened years ago, with Cecelia...I knew it wasn't right between you two. To force something like that. And now I want you to be able to make your own choice, the right choice, for you."
Was this how Florence had felt weeks ago as we sat at the table in Marco's house, as I kissed her fingers and promised her the world, had she seen it coming? Did her throat close up like mine was doing now?
"Madre–"
"No. Listen to me. So many choices have been taken away from you in this life, my sweet boy." She placed a hand on my cheek, and for the first time in years I allowed it to sit there. I almost let myself be comforted by it. "Florence is a good, strong woman. So I want you to know, that if this is what you want..."
Standing up, Madre put a hand into her pocket. Out of it, she pulled a small, square box wrapped in black velvet. It fitted in her palm like a pearl in a clam. She placed it onto the counter and turned to me.
"Open it."
I heard her command but it felt as though I was stood outside my own body, head underwater and the real world far away. I already knew what I would find in the box, yet moving my hand to pick it up, open the lid, was difficult.
"I don't want to be paid for what we agreed," I said. "You don't have to give me anything."
Madre's voice was sharp as a razor. "I am not paying you for doing what is right. I am giving you what Sofia never had, what she has had ripped away from her. Choice."
I flipped the lid and felt my throat dry up. Inside it sat a silver ring that glistened brightly in the sun. Tiny diamonds glittered like stars along each side of it, and in the middle sat a bright sapphire stone so deep a blue it could have been forged in the deep of the ocean.
"That ring was never meant for Cecelia." Madre placed her hands on my shoulders, reaching up from her small height, and commanded my attention. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice reminded me that this was one of the most important moments of my life. "It's for Florence, if you choose to give it to her. Either way, this is my blessing, Arturo. God knows, we all deserve a little happiness."
"Thank you," I breathed, closing my eyes. "Thank you." It was all I could say, but I meant so much more.
From the doorway, a sudden sound disrupted our silent breaths and we both looked over.
"Hello?" Madre called sternly, all emotion vanished from her face.
We waited, but nobody revealed themselves.
"It was probably an animal," Madre said. She walked over to the drinks cabinet and picket up the bottle of dry vermouth. "One more for the road?"
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