His Sicilian Cinderella

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘One thing,’ she checked. ‘Will you be coming back to the same hotel on Sunday night?’

  He was about to say no, but then remembered that Bella was to be a bridesmaid at the wedding that wasn’t taking place.

  No doubt she would be busy mopping up Sophie’s tears.

  ‘Yes,’ Matteo said. ‘For one night.’

  Oh, he could have flown out of Bordo Del Cielo early on the Monday morning and still made his flight to Dubai, but there was safety in distance and he needed that distance from Bella.

  He hung up the phone and told himself he didn’t care about Bella. She had chosen that life, he reminded himself.

  He had emptied not just his wallet that night, he had given her his heart, he had promised to take care of her, and she had thrown it all in his face.

  Yes, he accepted her mother had been ill and that would account for her not being at the airport.

  It didn’t account for later, though.

  Was it male pride that had let her walk off?

  Was it her shameful past that had kept them apart?

  It wasn’t love he had found that night, it had been sex, that was all, he tried to tell himself.

  Good sex.

  But, no, he’d had plenty of that since then.

  What had it been about that night that clung to him? A night that was as present as a damp cloud, seeping into everything, ensuring nothing was as bright or as clear as it had been then.

  She was still beautiful, still slender and just as beguiling.

  He wanted her.

  Not just again. Matteo wanted Bella in his life.

  No matter the others.

  But, no, it wasn’t just his ego and male pride that held him back.

  She didn’t want scrutiny and yet the press would make mincemeat of her, Matteo well knew.

  They had a strange fascination with the dark, good-looking Italian who dated London’s elite. It didn’t quite sit right with them so they did their best to expose his past in any way they could.

  They would expose hers, that much Matteo knew.

  She would be named and shamed at every turn, her picture plastered everywhere, her mother’s past played out, and there would not be a thing that Matteo could do about it.

  Bella had struggled just to get through breakfast today. Imagine dropping her right into his world and the poison that would await.

  He had to forget her, yet that one night stretched for a lifetime. One night with so many fragments, so many pieces, like little stars dropped into thoughts and dreams.

  He could not fight it.

  Yes, he had dreamt about it, recalled it in his sleep.

  Now, awake, finally he allowed himself to fully remember. To recall in detail a time that, though long buried, refused to be laid to rest.

  What he could not know was now, on the night before they returned to the town they had grown up in, Bella, who was making her friend’s wedding gown, had put the garment down in her lap and stared unseeing as she recalled the beautiful and painful memories too.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Five years ago

  THE PACKED COURTROOM smelt of wood oil, anticipation and fear.

  The trial was over and the verdicts were about to come in and Bella looked down at her hand, which was holding Sophie’s.

  She had nails now.

  Not long nails but they looked like tiny new moons on the ends of her fingers and that was what hope looked like, Bella thought.

  With Malvolio behind bars, Matteo was in charge of the hotel, and under new management it had thrived.

  Oh, she still worked long hours but there were two meal breaks now for the staff, with food provided. Hot chocolate and rolls for breakfast and usually pasta and sauce for lunch or supper, depending on the shift you were working. Louanna, the chef, would save a serving for Bella, which she would take home to her mother.

  And so, instead of arriving home drained, hungry and exhausted, Bella would come home tired but, having warmed her mother’s meal, there was still enough left in her tank to take out her sewing.

  Matteo had said that the maids could keep their tips, which meant that the maids worked harder.

  That was hope.

  Bella could now buy fabric and she’d had her scissors sharpened.

  She was starting to see a way out of the life she had been born into but, as she sat in the courtroom, Bella knew all that could end today.

  ‘It will be okay,’ she said to her friend as Luka stood to hear his fate.

  It had to be okay. Luka had only returned to Bordo Del Cielo to break off his engagement with Sophie—the woman that he had been promised to since childhood.

  Yet a police raid that evening, six months ago, had seen Luka, Malvolio and Paulo arrested.

  Now he stood on trial for the sins of his father.

  Surely, Bella thought, the judge would have seen that Luka had had nothing to do with Malvolio’s dealings.

  Bella let out a breath as Luka stood. As nervous as she was about the result, her eyes flicked, as they did all too often, to Matteo Santini.

  His beautiful face was expressionless.

  Matteo’s suit was, as always, immaculate. Despite the heat in the courtroom his jacket was on and his tie beautifully knotted—not even the top button of his shirt was undone.

  He looked as relaxed and vaguely bored as he might if he were waiting for a movie to start, Bella thought. One could never guess, if they didn’t know, that he was waiting for the verdict about to be delivered on his closest friend.

  Then again, Bella thought, was Matteo really close to anyone?

  His dark eyes drifted around the room and came to rest on Sophie but then they moved to Bella and for a small second their gazes locked.

  She blushed as she always did whenever Matteo was near, or when at work he had rare occasion to speak with her.

  Not that he noticed, for already his eyes had left hers and had moved back to watch the verdict.

  * * *

  ‘Luka Romano Cavaliere—non colpevole.’

  Matteo refused to blink but he could not help the sharp exhalation of breath as his best friend was found not guilty.

  Thank God.

  Luka was more a brother to him than Dino had ever been.

  Matteo’s father had died when he was young—old age was a rare treat in Bordo Del Cielo. By all accounts he had been a nice man but his mother had not chosen so well the next time.

  Luka had never questioned the bruises on Matteo.

  Just as Matteo had never questioned his.

  Life was tough, even if, like Luka, your father owned the town.

  Even if, like Matteo, you were the one who carried out Malvolio’s wishes.

  He glanced over to Sophie to see her reaction to the verdict. She and Luka had been caught in bed together and Luka had later stood in court and shamed her, had said that, despite his ending things, she had offered herself to him.

  Sophie’s eyes did not lift.

  He glanced to the young woman beside her again, Bella Gatti.

  Matteo knew who she was and not just from the times he had gone to her house to collect Maria’s money. He had seen her at Brezza Oceana, of course, and he knew Sophie and Bella were friends, just like he and Luka were.

  He looked at Bella more closely now and saw that her eyes were wide with fear, her skin was paler than usual, and she kept tucking her long black hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture as they now awaited Malvolio’s verdict.

  She looked petrified, Matteo realised, but, then, so too were most in the courtroom. Malvolio, if he was found not guilty, would be released and his reign of terror would start again.

  Perhaps Bella was nervous for her mother.

  M
atteo knew that she was no longer working. She was racked with debt and soaked in alcohol, thanks to the man who was about to meet his fate.

  Yes, that would account for Bella’s nervousness, Matteo decided.

  If Malvolio was released there would be debts to collect.

  He did not relish the prospect in the least but surely Malvolio would not get off?

  There was a hush in the courtroom and a moment of long-awaited jubilation was about to be born as the brute was finally brought to justice.

  Malvolio stood.

  Fat and sweaty, he dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief and though Matteo silently prayed that he would be put away for life, he knew even that sentence could never atone for all the lives he had ruined.

  How he hated that man, Matteo thought, saving the smile that wanted to spread on his lips for a moment from now.

  ‘Malvolio Cavaliere—non colpevole.’

  The courtroom was silent for just a few seconds too long at the shocking verdict, but it was as if everyone, in the next second, suddenly realised that Malvolio was back in charge of Bordo Del Cielo and frantic applause ensued.

  Matteo did not join in, he just watched as Malvolio smirked.

  He was back.

  Matteo looked to where Malvolio’s greedy gaze drifted and now he better understood Bella’s look of fear.

  No!

  There was a moment of brief recall for Matteo—when he had first taken over management of the hotel he had checked the bar rosters and seen Bella’s name.

  He had scratched it out.

  ‘No,’ Matteo had said, because his intention was to clean up the bar. ‘She is to keep working as a chambermaid.’

  He would have no say now. Malvolio was free, and there was not a single thing he could do other than watch Bella sit and quietly weep.

  And then Paulo stood.

  He was Sophie’s father and a weak, frail man. His wife, Rosa, had died when Sophie had been small.

  By Malvolio’s hand, Matteo was quite sure.

  Matteo had worked alongside Paulo and had done some jobs that Paulo had either been too weak to do or could not bring himself to.

  Though Matteo might appear to be Malvolio’s yes-man, he quietly worked things his way.

  As the court stood Matteo remembered a night a few years ago. Paulo had been told to burn down a house where a family slept and Matteo, returning from the bar, sent to check on him, had found Paulo sitting on a wall, holding a bottle of accelerant, his head in his hands.

  ‘Talia was a friend of Rosa’s,’ Paulo wept. ‘I cannot do this.’

  ‘Then you are dead by tomorrow,’ Matteo had said without emotion.

  ‘Damn Malvolio.’ Paulo for once had been strong. ‘There are babies asleep in the house. I would rather be dead myself than do that.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Matteo answered calmly. ‘But what will happen to Sophie if you are not here to protect her? What will happen to your daughter if you are gone? Maybe Malvolio will find work for her. How old is she now?’ Paulo’s face bleached white and Matteo sat down on the wall beside him, a few steps away from where a family slept.

  ‘Give it to me,’ Matteo said, and took the bottle containing the accelerant. ‘I’ll take care of things. You go home, Paulo.’

  ‘Matteo,’ Paulo protested. ‘I can’t ask you to do my work for me.’

  ‘Just go home,’ Matteo said. ‘I don’t have anyone that I need to take care of. No one worries about me and I have no one I need to worry for...’

  It proved a blessing that night.

  With Paulo gone, Matteo walked up to the small fisherman’s cottage. Through the open window he could hear a baby crying and her mother singing, trying to get the infant back to sleep.

  He should wait for the house to fall silent. Matteo knew all too well what to do.

  But instead of waiting for the hush of silence, he went to the small room and knocked on the window, startling Talia, who went to shout out.

  ‘Hush...’ Matteo said, ‘or you will get us all killed.’

  She nodded wide-eyed and held in her scream.

  ‘See this?’ Matteo said, and she nodded as he held up the bottle.

  ‘In five minutes’ time fire will tear through your house, so go and get the babies and go out of the back door with your children...’ As she went to go he halted her. ‘Wait.’

  Matteo picked up soil from the ground and smeared her tear-streaked face and then her hands, before Talia rushed off to gather up her precious babies.

  A miracle, the villagers had called it.

  Talia was a true heroine for somehow she had managed to get all her babies out in time.

  Malvolio had shrugged. It had served as a warning to everyone. Whether they were dead or alive did not matter to him.

  The next morning Paulo had met his eyes in brief thanks.

  Matteo now glanced across the courtroom and there was Talia, the mother he had warned that night, and she gave him the tiniest smile, though he did not return it.

  No one must ever guess what had happened back then.

  Especially now that Malvolio would be walking the streets again.

  The judge was calling for calm. The panicked people were still trying to take in that Malvolio would be back amongst them, Paulo for now was forgotten.

  The other two had got off, no doubt he would too but then the courtroom was rocked again.

  Paulo Durante—colpevole.

  Paulo would be taken to the mainland for sentencing. The judge was calling for calm as people stood in the stands, shouting and raising their fists at the frail old man.

  It was not justice that drove them to berate Paulo, it was fear of Malvolio.

  As Matteo stepped out of the courtroom, despite the fierce sun in the bright blue sky it was a black day indeed.

  As soon as Luka was processed and freed he came to talk to his friend.

  Some things could not be discussed yet today they were.

  ‘Matteo, I am going to speak with Sophie. Now that her father has been imprisoned her name too will be mud. I am leaving, I am not going to be my father’s second in charge. I am taking Sophie to London with me.’

  Matteo nodded and, though he didn’t show it, he was surprised at Luka’s honesty about his father, but nothing prepared him for what came next.

  ‘You need to come with me.’

  ‘Me?’ Matteo said. He knew Malvolio would never allow it. He had already tried to leave once and, eternally mistrusting, he wasn’t even sure that his friend wasn’t calling his bluff—testing him as his brother once had. ‘Why would I come with you? Nothing changes for me...’

  ‘Everything changes,’ Luka said, and Matteo felt his insides still. ‘With me gone and Paulo about to be locked away, you will be my father’s second man.’

  ‘There is Dino,’ Matteo said, referring to his half-brother, but Luka shook his head and Matteo could hear the blood pulsing in his temples as he realised that a distant heir, himself, had suddenly been promoted.

  ‘There will be a lot of bloodshed to come,’ Luka said, and Matteo knew then that he would be the one to exact Malvolio’s revenge on those who had had the courage to speak out against him.

  ‘We fly at nine tomorrow,’ Luka said. ‘If you tell anyone, well, you know what might happen, and not just to you. Think about joining us,’ Luka said, and Matteo didn’t respond, though his mind was busy as his friend spoke on. ‘For tonight, just celebrate with my father, carry on as if you are thrilled that he has been released... He’s watching your every move, Matteo. He doesn’t believe you are completely loyal. Tonight you have to show him that you are, tonight you have to convince him that you want every part of his depraved lifestyle, or you and anyone you care for will be some of the forest that he is about to start
clearing...’

  ‘Then it is lucky I care for no one.’

  Luka looked at his friend. ‘Maybe this life is what you want,’ he said, because even if they had a lot of history between them Matteo gave away little and no one really knew what went on in his mind. ‘If it is then I wish you well, Matteo.’

  ‘And you.’

  ‘Even if you aren’t going to join us, can you do one thing for me?’

  Matteo nodded.

  ‘Get him royally pissed so he sleeps like a bear through the morning.’

  ‘Done.’

  Luka walked away then and Matteo was in no doubt that he was heading off to try and persuade Sophie to join him.

  Malvolio was processed through the court quickly and Luka had been right. It was clear that Matteo was now the go-to man—everyone was turning to him and asking what would be happening tonight.

  ‘Perhaps a street party,’ Matteo said. ‘Everyone can see him that way and welcome his release.’

  Matteo just wanted to keep him away from the bar and Bella.

  He sat outside the jail house in his boss’s car and shook Malvolio’s hand in congratulations when he climbed in.

  ‘What happens tonight?’ Malvolio asked.

  ‘A street party,’ Matteo said. ‘All the town wants to see you.’

  ‘Am I ten years old?’ Malvolio scoffed. ‘Matteo, I thought you could do better than that for me. I want a very exclusive party. Perhaps I need to organise it for myself.’

  ‘I will sort it,’ Matteo said. ‘Do you want to go home first?’

  ‘Yes, then we will go straight from there to the hotel. It has been a long wait....’ He told Matteo to slow down and he halted the car and the window slid open and Malvolio called over Pino, a young boy who cycled around town, delivering messages.

  ‘Hey, Pino...’ Malvolio said but, instead of giving his instructions in front of Matteo, got out to speak to the young boy and then returned to the car.