Page 56 of Secrets of the Brother
I looked over my shoulder to see Cesare cross the private terrace toward me. I turned back to rest my forearms on the wrought iron railing, the darkened mountain valley stretched out in front of me.
I hated this time of year.
After the harvest.
When the vines were naked branches, stripped of their fruit, their once glossy green foliage shriveled to dried brown husks.
Soon, cold winds would sweep down from the mountains to usher in winter and drive most activity indoors.
Traditionally, this was a time for hearth and home. When farming families would gather around the fire and wait out the harsh weather together until spring.
This had been the time my child would have been born.
A time for family.
Heritage.
A continuation of the Cavalieri legacy.
Cesare joined me at the railing. He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out two cigars. He gave me a wink. “Swiped these from Papà’s study when he wasn’t looking.”
I took a cigar from him and placed it under my nose, inhaling the robust earthy yet sweet aroma of the tobacco.
Cesare set an unlabeled bottle of wine on the lower narrow marble ledge and pulled two glasses from his jacket pockets. “And this is compliments of Vito. He wants our opinion. It’s theRiserva. It’s been two years. He thinks it’s ready. If we agree, they’ll start bottling next week.”
He pulled the cork out with his teeth and poured two glasses.
The liquid shimmered like deep, dark garnets in the moonlight.
I rested two fingers on either side of the stem at the base of the glass and swirled the goblet gently, letting the wine breathe. I lifted the glass to my nose and inhaled.
After the palette cleanser of the tobacco, the bouquet of black cherry, plum, leather, and pepper was that much more pronounced. Taking a sip, I savored the more complex, full-bodied flavor profile of theRiservaproduced from its longer aging process in oak barrels, holding it on my tongue before letting it slide down my throat.
Cesare did the same. He nodded. “Going to be another good vintage.”
He set the glass aside and pulled out a pack of wooden matches.
My lips quirked up in a smile. “Do you have a cheese platter in there somewhere too?”
“I tried, but Rosa gave me the stink eye. You know how she guards her antique pewter platters.”
He lit a match and handed me the packet. I did the same, hovering the open flame just under the cigar so the heat would warm the tobacco enough to light it, but not burn it and ruin the flavor.
After inhaling a strangely calming puff of acrid smoke, I exhaled and watched it drift off in the wind. Picking up my glass, I swirled the contents further before saying, “You know I couldn’t be happier about the baby.”
Cesare rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled. “Fuck, I’ll admit it to you, brother. I was scared as hell to get those results, but I should have known better. Milana is too stubborn to lose our baby.”
My chest tightened. “I want you to know—”
Cesare clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.” He took a generous puff from his cigar. “You thought you were doing the right thing by marrying that woman. None of what followed was your fault. It’s in the past. Bury it with her.”
“The investigation isn’t in the past. Neither is finding the third man.”
Cesare turned and leaned his back against the railing. He gestured with his wineglass. “He can’t hide forever. We’ll find the bastard. And as far as the investigation is concerned, unlike other times, we are actuallynot guiltythis time. A rather refreshing change of pace, don’t you think?”
The tightness in my chest eased at the dark humor of the situation. I lifted the cigar to my mouth. “Well, you do have a point.”
“We’ll deal with the bullshit of the investigation like we always do."
