“I think this dress would look great on you,” Ines brought me something scarlet and clearly short.
She also very insistently tried to push it into my hands.
“Thanks, but I’ll look for something else,” I just as insistently tried to refuse, handing the dress back, then went on wandering through the store.
This evening our study group was having a party for the birthday of our class president, Armando Vitale.
His family is rich enough that he can afford to rent out an entire restaurant.
So the celebration was going to be a big one, and we needed to look the part.
That was why Ines and I headed straight to the shops after classes.
I happened to have a day off from work, so I could allow myself the luxury.
“What about this one?” Ines held up another dress.
Black this time, but still far too short.
I didn’t mind outfits like that in principle, but I’d rather wear something so revealing only when I was with my boyfriend.
Around Dante I always wore jeans and hoodies—yet I was going to show up at a party in something like that?
My conscience started pricking me.
I ought to look nicer next to my other half.
In the end, I chose a deep-blue dress.
Almost black.
With a partially open back, but long enough to reach the floor.
“Not bad, but boring,” Ines pouted as she commented on my choice.
“Trust me, on me it won’t look boring.” I stretched lazily, eyeing the costume jewelry.
Twenty euros for a bracelet that wouldn’t last two weeks.
It would change color, fade, and turn ugly.
A bit pricey.
“Fine, but the dresses I suggested were way better.” I just snorted—though I did it with a smile.
Ines liked Armando, and tonight she was clearly determined to catch his attention.
Again.
That was why she had chosen such a revealing dress, completely unsuitable for the weather, and why she was trying to push something similar on me—so she wouldn’t stand out too much and look like a white crow.
I liked Ines.
On her own, she was modest and quiet, but because of her feelings, she was trying to climb out of her shell.
I wasn’t entirely sure she was doing it the right way, but I was ready to support her whenever she needed it.
Just not with the choice of dress—that was purely her decision, and she hadn’t changed it even after I talked to her.
When we left the store I checked my phone.
There was a message from Nino—my god’s grandson.
Stopping on the sidewalk, I read it at once: “Can we meet today?” “Of course.
I’m on Toledo right now.
Where are you?” I was surprised that Nino was already back in Naples.
Lately he had had far too much business in Rimini, where my god’s grandson spent almost all his time.
It seemed he even had a girlfriend there now.
“I’m on the road right now.
I’ll be in Naples closer to evening.
Will you be free or are you working again?” “I was planning to go to a party.
It’s my classmate’s birthday, but if you have something important to talk about, I’ll skip the party and come to you.” “No need.
Have fun.
We’ll talk tomorrow.” “Okay.
Then I’ll call you in the morning.” Nino was almost ten years older than me, yet we had developed a pretty good relationship, even though we hadn’t known each other that long.
With him, everything felt simple and easy.
Like with an older brother who protected me and helped me.
Sometimes he threw teasing remarks my way and got the same in return.
We didn’t have to choose our words carefully.
We could just say things the way they were.
An older brother… Something unpleasant ached in my chest.
A sharp, deep scratch.
I thought of my blood brother—Sergio Amato.
Whether I wanted to or not, I often remembered how close we had been as children.
We spent almost all our time together.
We probably knew each other better than our parents did.
We were always running around the house.
Sprawling on the cushions on the terrace floor.
Getting scolded together by the housekeeper for getting them dirty.
Sneaking into the library.
Sitting on the balcony of his room at night.
Looking at the stars and inventing stories.
And what was left of all that now?
Nothing.
Sergio was already twenty-two.
We hadn’t seen each other since I left the Amato house, and he was about to get married—an invitation to which, of course, I had not received.
And how could everything have become like this?
Even now it felt as if a significant part of me had been torn out of my chest.
Too painful.
So much that the blood was still flowing.
Trying to push those thoughts away, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and looked at the sidewalk, which still hadn’t dried after the rain.
I wondered why Nino wanted to meet.
The most logical assumption was that he wanted to talk about the salon.
Very soon we would start working on it properly.
Preparing for the opening.
Or maybe Nino intended to talk about a tattoo.
He wanted me to do another design on him.
This time on his neck.
So the reason for the meeting was one of those two things.
Or both at once.
I wondered—should I tell Nino about Matteo?
I had stayed silent about the Mariani family.
He believed I was living just fine with them.
But Matteo was a completely different matter.
Maybe I should at least ask whether Nino knew who he was.
Only how was I supposed to do that?
I didn’t know Matteo’s last name.
Just describe his appearance?
True, Matteo had a memorable look, but Nino was unlikely to know random bodyguards.
He only knew the upper layers of the clans.
Approaching the traffic light, I asked myself another question—could Matteo have been talking about Nino when he mentioned the person I was precious to?
But I dismissed that possibility at once.
First, Nino and I never publicized our meetings.
We even hid them.
For now, he was still keeping secret the fact that I was his grandfather’s apprentice.
Second, despite our fairly good relationship, we hadn’t known each other that long, and he had people far closer to him than I was.