Page 127 of Secrets of the Brother
She wagged her finger at me. “You and I will discuss this in my kitchen after everyone has eaten, mister.” She then ordered my father into the kitchen to fetch the risotto.
Her gentle, motherly scolding diffused the tension in the room.
Bianca smirked. “I thinkifwe get married, I’m going to take a few lessons from Rosa on how to deal with you.”
I kissed her forehead. “Whenwe get married, the only thing you need to know about dealing with me is….” I shifted my body so the others couldn’t see and pulled her hand between my legs so her palm would brush my hard cock.
She batted my chest with her hand. “You’re impossible!”
Amara and Milana sidled up to Bianca, one on each side of her like a pair of self-appointed bodyguards, and ushered her to the other side of the table.
Cesare and I were forced to take seats on the opposite side as we faced off from our significant others.
As Rosa directed the staff in laying out the silver place settings, cloth napkins, and glassware, she placed a massive, carved wooden bowl filled with radicchio, endive, arugula and frisée salad tossed in a simple olive oil and lemon dressing off to the side of the center of the table.
Another staff member placed a smaller bowl of freshly roasted chestnuts on the table, their rich earthy yet sweet aroma filling the room with the scent of autumn.
Gabriella entered cradling four bottles ofGiuseppe Quintarelli Valpolicella Classico Superioreshe had retrieved from the wine cellar.
I jumped up to help her, setting the bottles at the end of the table. Picking up a bottle opener, I used the foil cutter to breach the foil wrapper before uncorking each one.
Gabriella grabbed the first bottle and circled the table. “This really should breathe first but who cares, drink up!”
Papà entered carrying a massive wheel of parmesan cheese.
He was followed by Alfonso who held a steaming cast-iron pot. Although it wasn’t usually done at the dining room table, my family had always enjoyed the pageantry of watching the risotto slowly melt the parmesan.
Papà placed the heavy wheel on a cloth and stepped back as Alfonso dipped the steaming rice directly into the hollowed-out center of the cheese wheel. Papà then picked up a wooden spoon and slowly stirred. Soon the risotto melted the sides of the wheel and was coated in the perfect amount of rich, creamy cheese.
We passed ourcoupeplates up to each be filled with a generous spoonful of risotto. When Papà was finished dishing it out to everyone, he returned the wheel to the kitchen and took his rightful place at the head of the table.
For several minutes we ate in silence, enjoying the simple yet hearty autumn meal.
Then conversation returned to the problem at hand.
It was Papà who broached the topic. “Enzo, I’m sure you can appreciate how much I hate to say this, but Bianca makes a fair point. Her parents will not be lured into a meeting unless she is present.”
I put down my fork and steepled my fingers over my plate. “We’ve only just learned Nevio is the third man. We haven’t even tried to take him out without involving her or her parents.”
Cesare played with the stem of his wineglass. “Yeah, but we suspected something was shady about him. Maybe not that he was the third man, but we knew something was wrong. We’ve already tried to get background information about him and he’s a ghost. Knowing he’s the third man doesn’t change that.”
I leveled a look at him. “If it were you, would you allow Milana to go?”
Milana lowered her brow. “What's with thisallow meshit?”
At the same time, Cesare said, “Hell no.”
Milana turned to him. “Hey!”
Papà stretched his arms over the table. “We’re not going to start that again.”
Bianca spoke up. “Can I say something?”
The whole table quieted and turned to her.
She took a deep breath. “You’ve all been very kind to accept me into your family after what… well… after everything. And I want to show how much I appreciate it—”
I interrupted. “No one is expecting you to risk your safety out of some archaic loyalty test, baby.”
