Matteo

Chapter 25

Palermo, Sicily – June 1st 2020

The initiation ritual doesn't take place on Sunday, as Matteo had expected. His father came home in the evening, not at noon like he had said. He was in a good mood, despite their last phone call (he probably had more important things to worry about than his son's behaviour) and didn't even talk to Matteo until the next morning on Monday. He had been in his office with Romeo since he had arrived.

On Monday, he comes into Matteo's room. He never does that. He usually calls him to his office or talks to him when they bump into each other on their estate. But he never comes into his room. He's also the only person in the house who doesn't knock. He knows the house belongs to him, along with everybody in it.

"Hello." He says and goes to sit on one of the chairs by the table. Matteo is watching reruns of The Office in the background while scrolling on his phone. He's been doing that ever since he woke up on Sunday.

Everything seems grey now. The sun has been hiding behind the clouds since yesterday, and it's cold.

"Hi." A feeling of worry settles in his stomach as he locks his phone.

"How are you?"

Matteo shrugs. "Alright. What's up?"

His father looks at him and Matteo hates this. He does this sometimes; he'll just stare into his soul, as if he were reading his thoughts, trying to see what the best approach would be.

"It will happen this Sunday."

Matteo is confused. Then he remembers. Now he feels afraid, and he knows his father can see it, maybe even smell it on him. He hates himself right now.

"Okay."

"Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid."

Matteo sits up straight.

"It's okay to be scared. I was scared when my father swore me in."

This is the first time he's ever admitted weakness to Matteo. He wonders if he'll see more of it once they start working together. Seeing his father admit he can feel anything (or at least used to in the past) makes him appear more human.

Matteo has never heard him say 'I love you' to anyone, ever. He sees him kiss his mom on the temple sometimes, but they seem more like friends rather than partners. He knows they don't sleep in the same room, but they both travel a lot. The only times the whole family is together is during birthdays and other celebrations.

The first two months of remote university and work were unusual; everyone in their family was home. They would eat dinner together more than once a week (which was the only time all five of them were in the same room, ever), which is something they stopped doing when Matteo left for boarding school.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Where's mom?" He finds himself asking.

His father's expression changes.

"You know she's in Taormina."

"Why isn't she here?"

His father's face is expressionless, as always.

"Why are you only asking now?"

Matteo shrugs. "I'm spending a lot more time in the house than I did in the past twenty years."

His father thinks about it.

What is there to think about?

"Do you even love her?" Matteo asks out of a sudden.

"Of course I do." His father answers automatically. It sounds rehearsed.

"Okay."

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Just curious. Why do you care?" He daringly asks.

Sometimes he likes to see how far he can take it until his father's face shows any kind of emotion. Anger, rage, confusion, even disappointment - anything. Disappointment is the worst one, but at least it's something.

It shows he cares enough to feel.

"Because you've never brought it up before."

The Feeling comes back. He looked it up online yesterday after the whole talk with Valentina about intuition and whatever. He literally googled the unknown feeling in his gut and after rabbit hole of threads and forums, he found something.

Someone wrote that if you think about something and you get a feeling in your stomach, it's your intuition speaking. If you feel it in your chest, then it's your own mind playing tricks on you.

"Is that all there is?" Matteo asks this only to be cryptic and play with his father a little bit longer, see if he can get a reaction out of him. He wants to see if his father feels guilty, because then it confirms he's having affairs.

But it's not guilt that takes over his face. It's something else.

It's fear.

Then, anger.

"I would suggest you mind your own business until you earn the right to pry into mine."

Matteo is quick to react. "Is mom a business then?"

His father's muscles tense under his shirt and Matteo knows he won this round.

"I'm going on a business trip to St. Petersburg this week, I will see you on Sunday."

Matteo nods and watches his father leave without as much as a goodbye. He turns the volume back up as soon as the door shuts.

***

Palermo, Sicily – June 7th 2020

The suit is tight on his arms when he puts it on. He hasn't worn it since Christmas, when he looked at himself in the mirror and saw his father.

Now, as he looks at himself again; hair gelled back, tie around his neck, he sees his father again. Which unsettles him because it's the one thing he had always tried to avoid. The one thing he knows for sure about his life is that he doesn't want to turn out like his father.

"Look at you." Aurora says from the mirror in the hallway. "Where are you going looking so radiant?"

"Fuck off."

Their father appears in the doorway from the kitchen, holding the newspaper he was reading and a cup of coffee.

"Language." He says, like they've never heard him curse before. "We leave in ten."

"Where are you going?" Aurora asks.

"Church." His father answers for the both of them.

Aurora makes a displeased face. "Why didn't you invite me?"

"Do you want to come?" Matteo provokes her, smelling her game from a mile away.

She scrunches her nose. "Of course not."

They watch her sling a bag over her shoulder and grab the umbrella from its holder. "I'm off."

"Where?" They both ask at the same time.

Aurora smiles sweetly. "Church."

No one says anything as they watch the door close behind her.

***

It's been raining since Wednesday, and everyone he sees on the street seems to be in a sombre mood. Italians need sun to thrive.

It's a little past twelve when they arrive at the restaurant. It's clearly been renovated during the pandemic; the inside is wider now and there are more tables. The lamps are gone, having been replaced with chandeliers that hang from the ceilings.

The whole atmosphere has changed. It doesn't say 'family-friendly' anymore. It says 'black tie business dinners', or that type of restaurant that you just know has expensive food that comes on miniature plates.

"Looks nice." Matteo observes as they walk through the empty restaurant towards the back door. It opens into well-lit hallway with five doors: two on the left, two on the right, and one at the end.

The two on the right are offices, the two on the left lead up to their old home and down to the wine cellar, and the one at the end is a storage room.

To his surprise, they go through the door that leads to the wine cellar.

Once they're in the cellar, his father opens another door, hidden behind the last barrel in the back. Matteo never even knew it existed.

They go down another set of stairs and arrive in front of a door.

Behind it is a large, cold room, filled with candles and people. Men.

There must be around twenty people here, most of them his father's age, sitting in a circle of chairs. It reminds Matteo of the game they played at Vinnie's birthday.

Then, sitting on one of the chairs, he finds his grandmother Angelina. His father's mother. She's sitting there knitting like she sometimes does, listening to something Paulo Barone is telling her.

Matteo recognizes Romeo, as well as Isabella's father, Franco Altieri. He remembers never being sure whether Isabella's father had any involvement in this.

Now he knows.

He wonders who out of Franco and Paulo might be the Consiglieri. He knows the consiglieri is the one in charge after the boss, even though the underboss is second in command according to the hierarchy. The consiglieri is the right hand man, the advisor; the only one who can influence his father.

He imagines it must be Isabella's dad. He's a lawyer specializing in criminal law, or something like that, if Matteo remembers correctly.

Paulo is way too physical, too good at practical things (like his sons are), to be a consiglieri. Matteo has seen him carry out tasks, talking to people, closing deals, but he rarely ever sees Franco. Franco, who seems too soft and too intelligent to be the underboss.

It all makes sense now.

The voices echo off the walls but they go quiet the moment they're aware that their leader is here. (With his degenerate son, who is to be sworn into the organization.)

Matteo knows he must take the oath of Omertà; the code of silence their father had told them about years ago. Only then will he officially be a part of Cosa Nostra.

He looked it up this week. He has to swear loyalty to the organization; swear that he won't talk to any authorities, the government, or any outsider about anything starting today. They're supposed to be merely people who owe them favours. Those who don't owe them favours are irrelevant, and those who don't qualify as irrelevant are enemies.

Matteo will basically have to swear to ignore any illegal activities he sees. He's also read that he must kill someone, but he's sure that can't be true. It's only a thing you read in books or see in the movies. Plus, he doesn't really trust Google.

"Buongiorno." His father says, then proceeds to greet everyone.

All of the men who were sitting before are standing now. Everyone wants to shake his hand, greet him personally, show their respects. Everyone that is, except for his consiglieri, underboss, and his mother.

Once everyone but Matteo and his father are sitting, Grandma Angie stands up and places her knitting utensils on the chair.

"Now that my son and grandson are finally here, let's start."

***

First, his grandmother presents him to the rest of the men. The first people he's formally introduced to are Franco and Paulo, consiglieri and underboss, whom he already knows.

Then his grandmother introduces Romeo (who he also knows), Vincenzo, Pablo, and Gianluca, the caporegimes – the captains. The ones who did all the dirty work, people who have killed other people.

Romeo has always been around, and he's a good man. Matteo has grown closer to him than to his own father. He can't even imagine Romeo holding a gun, let alone kill someone. But Matteo knows he's always carrying a gun and has been serving his father since before Matteo was even born.

"Gianluca and Pablo work in New York, so you will be under them while you're there." Grandma Angie explains, before moving on. Her Italian is posh, old-fashioned. She can speak fast sometimes, but rarely with her grandchildren. Sometimes she has a hard time understanding when they speak amongst themselves, but Matteo knows she always understands what is being said.

The next people he meets are soldiers; some from Romeo's team, some from Vincenzo's. Matteo doesn't bother to learning their names, but he recognizes one of them. He's the only one that looks closest to Matteo's age. His name is Luca, and Matteo remembers him from his early days growing up in the restaurant. He was always there.

He's the son of the guy who got shot.

"Luca is Romeo's nephew. He is the newest member of our organization; he joined two years ago."

Matteo is surprised. He never bothered to ask himself whether Romeo had any family. As far as he was used to, they were Romeo's family. He also didn't know the person who got shot was Romeo's brother.

"The rest are in New York."

His grandmother turns to the rest of the group. Matteo realizes there's no empty chair for him to sit on except for his grandmother's.

"Matteo will be sworn into the organization, and I will initiate the ritual. He will be serving under Romeo as a soldier, to be trained by Luca."

Matteo and Luca exchange glances. What could Luca even teach him? How to fight? Matteo already knows how to fight.

"If anyone has anything to object, you may speak now."

The room is dead silent.

Now is Matteo's chance to say something. Choose his path, pick one of the two versions of himself, and play that role until death.

Two futures lay ahead of him: one where he lives off his father's money, works as an 'associate' in the club. He'll settle for a woman who can handle him when he gets bored of her and goes off with someone else. They'll have children and he'll rarely see them, but he'll swallow his guilt by throwing money at them and ensuring they have a pleasurable life.

The second future is one where he takes the oath and enters the world of organized crime; his own family – just on the dark side of the coin. That's all he can know for sure; the only thing he can see ahead of him. Everything that comes after is a big black unknown.

It feels like the beginning of the end again.

His mouth stays shut, but his heart is screaming.

"Alright. Before you swear your loyalty to Cosa Nostra and become a Man of Honor, you need to hear the commandments by which we operate."

"Like in the Bible?" Matteo asks in disbelief.

Another round of whispers, this time talking about how he can't keep his mouth shut like he should.

His grandmother doesn't seem phased; she just continues.

"One. No one can present himself directly to another of our friends. There must be a third person to do it."

Matteo has no idea what that means, but he just swallows and lets her continue uninterrupted.

"Two, never look at the wives of friends."

Don't get caught screwing someone's wife, classy.

"Three, never be seen with cops."

Obviously.

"Four, you're always on call."

He wants to object to this but his grandmother sees him opening his mouth and throws him a warning look.

"Five, appointments must always be respected."

Matteo rolls his eyes.

"Six, wives must be treated with respect."

Her eyes glow as she recites the rule, like she came up with it herself.

"Seven, when you're asked for any information, the answer must always be the truth. Eight, money cannot be appropriated if it belongs to others or to other families."

Basically don't get caught stealing.

He can't possibly believe that there's no corruption within the organization itself.

"Nine; there are certain types of people who cannot be a part of Cosa Nostra. Anyone who has a close relative in the police that wasn't planted by us, anyone with a two-timing relative in the family, anyone who behaves badly and doesn't hold moral values."

Matteo wants to laugh.

Moral values? Behaving badly? What would you call hiding a body or extortion for example?

"Ten." His grandmother's voice echoes against the stone walls, trying to get his attention. "Our approach is defensive. We don't act, we react. We have enough wealth to last a lifetime of generations, and our duty at the end of the day is to protect it and add to it in a legal way."

She looks at Matteo now, because she apparently feels like he's the only one in this room who needs an explanation. "If anyone tries to take what is rightfully ours, we have the right to defend ourselves."

Seems fair.

She's talking like it's an everyday occurrence, like it's a normal life to be leading. It only dawns on him now that it is an everyday occurrence for every single person in this room. And at some point, it will be normal for him too.

Grandma Angie turns to look him in the eye. "Matteo Lorenzo Giudice, are you here to swear to follow Omertà and pledge your loyalty and allegiance to the Giudice organization, with St. Michael as your witness and protector?"

A small wave of whispers settles among the people in the room. What happened?

"Be quiet." His father's voice echoes, and everybody shuts up.

"Yes." Matteo answers after he realizes that everybody's looking at him, waiting for him to answer.

Grandma Angie goes over to her seat and takes a picture out of her purse. Her vanilla smell seems to follow her wherever she goes.

She's holding a picture of the archangel Michael, a catholic Saint. Matteo knows it's her favourite Saint out of all of them; the one she's been praying to every night since she was four.

That's how she was raised by her mother – her father died fighting the Russians in Stalingrad. She married Lorenzo Giudice in 1966 and had their first son, Lorenzo (Matteo's father), in 1975. Matteo doesn't know what really happened – all he knows is that his grandfather died during a war in 1999 (he looked it up – it had something to do with a Yugoslavian war) and his father took over.

"Do you swear on your life by Archangel St. Michael, champion of justice, healer of the sick, guardian of the people, that you will respect Omertà with death as punishment for breaking it?"

Matteo laughs inside his head.

The fear of death means nothing to him at this point. He has no opinion whether this is good or bad, whether these people are good or evil. He knows it just needs to happen.

"Yes."

She comes over to Matteo, and his nostrils are filled with her scent as she takes his right hand. She is holding a small needle, which she uses to prick the skin of his index finger.

Blood comes out, and she places the photo under it so it would drop onto it. After a few droplets fall, his father stands up and comes over. He has a lighter in his hand - he had asked for one earlier and Matteo gave him the one Valentina had left behind.

"As head of Cosa Nostra and grandson of our founder Lorenzo Giudice, I welcome you, Matteo Lorenzo Giudice, to Cosa Nostra."

He hands Matteo the lighter and the picture. Matteo sets fire to it, then watches it burn.

The saint has his hands up in prayer and is looking at something above him. His face is engulfed by the flames, and then slowly, but surely, his body is too.

Matteo sees himself in the angel or whatever he is and lets the picture burn in his hand. At some point it the fire starts burning his fingertips, but he doesn't care.

A few seconds later it turns into ashes and falls onto the floor. People are whispering again, and he asks his grandmother if he has done something wrong.

"No, no, it's fine." His father assures him, which seems to calm down the people who had something to comment.

"Why are people whispering then?" Matteo asks, knowing very damn well everyone can hear him.

"The picture was supposed to be passed around quickly while you take the oath with a hand on your heart."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it's fine either way."

His grandma chimes in. "The only ceremony that allows holding the picture while it burns is when someone takes over as head of the family. Your father did that twenty years ago, exactly on this day."

Matteo frowns. If his grandfather died in 1999, why did his father only become boss in 2000?

He doesn't ask, and the initiation comes to an end. People stand up from their chairs and come over to shake his hand and congratulate him. His father announces lunch and drinks on the house upstairs; everybody cheers.

Afterwards, Matteo watches the people around him talk to his father, laugh at his jokes, asking him when there's time on his schedule for a quick 'business meeting'. His father is diplomatic and seems to know everyone's names, who their families are, their past, and their futures.

Everyone in this room right now, everyone on this island, respects him. It's a respect that's accompanied by decades of work, mixed with authority and fear.

His phone buzzes at some point during their lunch – it's the first time Matteo has ever eaten at the same table as his father in the restaurant.

He checks the notification from his Italian bank.

You have received €200,000.00 from L. Giudice

He clicks on the notification and looks at what his father wrote as a reference.

Well done

He has always said he was never going to be like his father. Yet somehow, in a fucked-up way, he wants to be exactly like him.

Matteo

Chapter 26

Palermo, Sicily – June 26th 2020

It's grandma Angie's birthday today, so Lorenzo made an exception and gathered the whole family at her house for dinner. The 'family' meaning the extended family that includes the Barone and Altieri families as well.

Grandma Angie lives in the townhouse next to their old house in Palermo. It's a four-bedroom building, wall-to-wall with their old house, which she and her husband bought when they got married.

The building looks almost historical from the outside, as well as on the inside with its giant paintings and crystal chandeliers. She used to host Easter and Christmas dinners there until last year, and it's the biggest townhouse Matteo has ever been in. It has four floors, the ground floor being the restaurant.

She has been sleeping in the same bedroom for over fifty years, almost half of them without her husband by her side. As soon as Matteo and Vinnie were born a couple of months apart, his father's childhood bedroom became theirs when they would visit her.

Vinnie's grandparents had died before he was born, shot dead on the street, so grandma Angie raised the Barone kids like they were her own grandchildren.

Isabella and Pia would sleep over in their uncle's old room, whereas Marco and Eddie would sleep in a room that was once their grandfather's study.

After they grew up and moved away, two of the rooms were turned into guest rooms and the study was converted back into an office. Matteo never knew who used it, but he knows now that his grandma most likely does.

She knows.

She knows everything. Since the beginning of time.

They are sitting down at a long table in the dining room, with Matteo's father sitting at the head of it. Their grandma usually sits at the other end, but right now she's too busy in the kitchen to sit down.

The dining room is the largest room in the house – she always tells the story of how she insisted on buying this home exactly because of the large dining room. She loved to cook and wanted to have a large family to host dinners for. Her 'husband, soulmate, partner in crime' indulged her.

Matteo wonders how she fell in love with him. Did she know he was in Cosa Nostra before they got together?

He looks out the floor-to-ceiling windows and can see right into Vinnie's old apartment. Someone else lives there now, with the Altieri's being the only ones who have not yet moved out of the city.

The birthday lunch has three courses that are accompanied by wine from the Giudice collection. The wines are as old as their grandmother (almost), and they sometimes sell on auctions for over $40k.

"Matteo, you're awfully quiet today." Grandma Angie says when she finds him on the balcony sipping on his wine glass.

"I told you happy birthday already."

"You did, but that's not the point."

"What's the point then?"

"How are you adjusting to your new position?"

Matteo almost rolls his eyes.

The 'new position' is nothing to write home about – he's doing the same thing he's done since he was forced into lockdown: nothing. Absolutely fuck-all.

The initiation ritual was the most interesting thing to happen to him this month, followed by his grandmother's birthday.

"I don't have anything to do. I figured it was more for show." Matteo says, a part of himself happy that that's what it's like.

He half-expected to be called up and asked to kill someone this month. Every time his father called him, his heart would stop. But it was never anything serious. Just driving around and picking up a few more shipment than he's used to. Other than that, nothing new. Matteo realizes now that he had made it bigger and darker in his head.

"What did you expect?" Her voice is careful, but a small smile is playing on her lips.

"I don't know, I thought I'd have to kill someone."

"Oh."

Why isn't she denying it?

"Is it true then?" He presses.

She doesn't answer, which annoys him.

"Why are you avoiding the answer? Are you ashamed of what you're doing? If I have to take responsibility for everything I do in my life, you should too."

"Yes." She finally answers.

"Yes what?"

"You'll have to kill someone."

A chill runs through Matteo's entire body. His mouth goes dry even though he just drank from his glass.

It is true then.

"What if I don't want to?"

"You will want to, eventually."

Her tone shakes him to his core. She said it like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"I don't want to kill anyone. Are you going to force me to and then kill me if I don't?"

She's laughing now, but Matteo isn't having it. How can she laugh right now?

"Is this your infinite generational legacy then? Killing people?"

His grandmother raises her arm at him and he flinches, even though they both know she won't hit him this time.

"Watch your mouth." She threatens. She's shorter than everyone in their family, but the most respected. Her word is the only one that can go above his father's.

After the tension eases, she proceeds to explain what she meant. "We will never hurt you, Matteo. I can guarantee you that our duty is to protect you. However, you will have to kill someone eventually. Nobody can stop that from happening. We won't point you at someone and tell you to go kill him."

"Then why would I ever kill someone?"

His grandmother finds this amusing. "If someone pulled a gun at you with the intention to kill you, what would you do?"

"Shoot him."

Matteo answers automatically, without even thinking. He looks at his grandmother, ashamed of his instinct. But she smiles at him and places a hand on his arm.

"Exactly. Once that happens and you keep it to yourself, that's when you'll be officially considered a member. Because you proved you kept your oath."

"Can't I just...not sleep with someone's wife? Not steal?" He knows it's a stupid question, so he changes directions. "What if I never have to kill someone?"

Her eyes are overcome by darkness.

"Then count yourself lucky."

"Have you ever killed someone?"

She chuckles, nervously. "If I die tomorrow, I can say that I have no regrets I take with me to the grave."

Matteo watches her look out onto the street below as she takes a sip.

"Do you know what Omertà actually means?" She asks. You swore to it, but do you know what it means?"

"Yes, it means I can never say anything to the police if it ever comes to it, to save my own ass. Basically, I swore not to be a snitch."

His grandma scrunches her nose at the word.

"I don't like that word."

"Sorry. But I know what the oath means." She doesn't seem convinced. "I know what Omertà means, Nonna."

Her eyes soften at the nickname. It's what they would call her when they were younger.

"You know what it means, okay. But do you understand? You swore to lead your entire life, up until death, by the Omertà. That means, everything that happens in your life from now on will be settled between us. Our own rules, our own justice system. The government and any other outsiders cannot be involved, cannot know. You can't go back, and you can't back out."

The Feeling comes and settles deep into the pit of his stomach.

Matteo feels like it never left since the beginning of June.

"You took the blood oath and were sworn in like a boss would. You must honour that."

"Yeah...that's what I mean." Matteo tries to appear stronger than he is. He didn't think it through in depth. He thought it would just please his father. Nothing has really changed, so it must've been for show.

"Does that mean I can just go up to anyone and kill them and everyone has to be quiet?" Matteo spits. The way his grandmother is talking makes her seem like she's not a grandmother anymore.

She's a woman in her seventies who has been the 'silent head' of the family for over twenty years now; ever since her husband got shot.

Matteo had never met his grandfather; he died a few months before he was born.

"You swore your loyalty to Cosa Nostra, and there are a few basic rules to follow. Everything else is dictated by the laws of nature, good and evil. We have values and morals, we're not animals."

Matteo sees his opportunity. "There is no good and evil." He says it in a mocking tone, mimicking his father's words.

His grandmother's eyes change. "What did you say?"

"There's no good and evil. People make it so." Matteo repeats.

His cheek starts stinging and he realizes that he's just been slapped. His grandmother's shaking now, looking enraged.

"Never say that to me again! You understand? That is how the devil thinks."

Matteo wants to tell her that it was her own son who had said that to him, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"Don't make me force you to come to church every Sunday."

Matteo grins. It's funny; her thinking she can force him to do something. But she likes to be respected and even feared sometimes (don't we all?), so he pretends to be terrified and she goes back to being 'Nonna'.

"I'm proud of you." She tells him before they go back inside.

It leaves a bittersweet taste in Matteo's mouth; he's happy to hear it from her, but what she's proud for, he has no idea.

He joins the rest of his family at the table.

"What are you doing for your birthday?" Isabella asks.

"Sorry?"

"Your birthday? In two weeks? I need to know what your plans are."

"Why, you busy next month?" He asks, only to pester her a little. Once he gets the desired reaction, he answers her properly. "I haven't thought about it. Everything is still closed, isn't it?"

"They're going to open some venues late July." Vinnie chimes in, having listened to the conversation.

Matteo isn't really invested in talking about his birthday right now. Why does everything always happen around his birthday?

First, he had to discover the drug den in their back garden right before he turned sixteen. Now he swore his loyalty to Cosa Nostra, which was now, sort of, also his thing. His birthday is the last thing on his mind.

"I liked the boat party. I think I'm going to do that. Start in Palermo, end up in Taormina. And I want to be the captain."

"You want to steer the boat?" Vinnie asks, incredulously.

"Yes, but not a yacht. We can take one of the motorboats on our dock."

"Those are motor yachts, Matteo." Isabella says. "And you need a license to drive those."

His first instinct is to tell her he could get one of those if he wanted to, without much hassle. But he bites his tongue. It would be a stupid idea.

But I could if I wanted to.

The ease with which the thought occurs to him, and the adrenaline it sends through his body, nearly scares him.

He could, in theory, do whatever he wanted to. No one would give a fuck, would they?

The idea that everything in the world is possible, no matter how right or wrong, makes everything feel infinite. In a dirty, evil, perverted sort of way.

***

Palermo, Sicily – July 7th 2020

He wakes up before noon on Saturday. It's not until he stretches, the sun warm on his face, that he realizes it's his 21st birthday today.

Isabella had planned something after he asked for her help – he wanted to have fun again, and the lockdown restrictions had been loosened at the beginning of the month.

She asked him who he wanted to invite, and when he really thought about it, only nine people came to mind. Obviously, it would be the Barone kids and Isabella, and his own siblings. He also thought about Valentina because he kind of missed her vibe and he knew she was in Capo d'Orlando at the moment. He also wished he could invite Aleksi without Raisa being involved, but he had texted him a few days ago and he was in Russia. His mother was sick and he couldn't come.

The final invite list ended up being eight people and himself. Isabella went along with the idea of taking one of the boats from Palermo to Taormina. She asked everyone to get tested before attending, then hired a captain and one waiter.

It would take around seven hours to get from their dock in Palermo to their dock in Taormina, and Matteo took care of arranging the alcohol.

"What about coca?" Vinnie had asked him a few days earlier when he had given him a list of things he needed for the party.

"I don't feel like it." he said. "There won't be that many people."

He doesn't feel like it today either, he thinks, as he sits up in bed. He can hear people downstairs already, even though it's not even 12.

There's always a feeling of detachment on his birthday. People treat him like he's special; pretend they're friends and post pictures they might've took together at some point, even though they haven't talked in years. Relatives call, and then he must make small talk and tell them about his life before pretending to care about theirs – if he doesn't, his grandmother will hear about it.

The shower takes longer than usual, and Matteo doesn't get out until the glass is foggy and his skin starts prickling. He leaves his phone on the nightstand, avoiding the notifications that are piling up, and goes downstairs.

There are a lot more people in the kitchen than usual, sprawled out across the open space that opens up into the living room. Aurora and Pia are talking on the couch, already dressed for a party. Next to them, Marco and Eddie are playing FIFA.

In the kitchen, Isabella and Ariana are drinking coffee. He forgot that Ariana confirmed her attendance last minute.

"Where's Vinnie?" Matteo asks when he doesn't see him.

"Out for a smoke." Isabella answers. "Happy birthday!"

Everybody stops talking to come over and congratulate him for turning 21. By the time he hugs Ariana, Vinnie and Valentina emerge from outside, smiling at each other.

"Happy birthday you little weasel." Vinnie laughs as he goes over to hug him.

Matteo responds to the hug, happy to see his best friend, then looks at Valentina over Vinnie's shoulder. She's smiling at them as she holds what looks like an Aperol Spritz in her hand.

Vinnie lets go of him to make way for Valentina. She's wearing a dark leather skirt with a white long-sleeved blouse and Air Force 1s. His eyes drift to the drink in her hand.

"I see you've already started." Matteo jokes, motioning to her drink.

"It's your birthday, isn't it?" She responds with the same energy, before she hugs him. "Happy birthday."

She smells sweet, like flowers and something else, and her hair is soft in his palm.

"Thanks." He says when they pull away.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Isabella asks when she sees him come back into the kitchen.

He throws his arms up and looks down at himself. "What's wrong with my fit?"

He's wearing a pair of jean shorts and a white band t-shirt.

"Everybody's dressed for a party." Ariana lifts her leg slightly to show her heels.

"So? When I have fun I like being comfortable, I don't care about looking good." He answers, maybe a bit snarkier than intended. He hasn't had his morning coffee and cigarette yet, it's not his fault he's cranky.

He can feel the girls' eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he goes to press the button on the coffee machine. The coffee is done soon enough, and he goes upstairs to his room to drink it by himself.

As he smokes a cigarette with his coffee, he thinks about changing his clothes. It would make him look like he cares about how other people see him, so he decides against it. What else is he supposed to wear anyway? A suit?? Why do people care so much about how they look and not at all about truly having fun?

"We're leaving at three, Matteo!" Isabella yells up at him from somewhere in the garden below.

He acknowledges her by yelling something back, then goes back inside to pack an overnight bag. Right before he leaves his room, he remembers to go take some cash and the weed bag with him. He might've said no to cocaine, but there's no way he won't smoke a joint with his friends on his birthday.

***

"Has anybody seen my cigarettes?" Valentina asks at some point during the evening. They're far out into the sea right now, heading at medium speed towards Taormina.

Matteo is sitting on the upper deck playing poker with his boys when she comes over and interrupts them.

"What do you smoke?" Vinnie asks.

"Marlboro Gold."

They look down at the table where their cigarette packs are sprawled out. She's clearly eyeing the Marlboro Gold pack next to Matteo's stuff.

Matteo points to it. "That's mine."

She props her hand on her hip. "Since when?"

"Since I got it yesterday."

"You smoke the Red ones."

"They don't sell them at the corner store anymore."

He's not lying. He's been smoking Gold for a few weeks now.

She extends her hand, pretending to not have heard him. "I'll have my pack now."

"When did you lose it?" He asks, pretending to not hear her.

"An hour ago."

"I've been at this table for- well, okay, for less than an hour. But this is mine."

She looks annoyed now, probably thinking that he's lying because of the way he's grinning.

"Are you serious? This is mine."

"No it's not."

"Does it matter? I have an extra one, you can have it Valle." Isabella chimes in from across the deck.

She's sitting with Ariana and Pia on a velvet U-shaped couch. The sun has already set but it's still light outside, and the mood has been comfortable and chilled from the beginning.

"We're bored." Ariana adds, pouting. "Let's play a game."

Matteo and Valentina look at each other, and she rolls her eyes, choosing to go with Isabella's solution.

"We're already playing a game." Vinnie argues, motioning towards the money and cards on the table.

The look that Isabella throws towards Vinnie is enough to make him sigh and officially end their game. Matteo groans and protests, making it more difficult for everyone to enjoy themselves. It's his birthday though; he has the right to have a little fun by creating drama.

He's only been drinking beer and has smoked the occasional joint, which made him feel hazy.

"It's my birthday, we should play something I want to play."

He plops down on the couch, in the empty spot where the left side of the U-shaped couch meets the middle.

Isabella doesn't seem pleased with him doing everything in his power to be annoying, but there's nothing better to do anyway.

"What do you want to play then?" Valentina asks. Her voice is louder than usual, with a hint of irritation in her voice. She's sitting next to him on the edge of the middle part, holding a drink.

Matteo can't do anything but shrug. "How about the game we played last time?"

Isabella grabs her phone from her lap. "Which one? Picolo? Alright. Does everyone agree?"

Isabella doesn't wait for everyone to agree before typing their names in and starting the game. The first few tasks are boring, and Matteo can't help but complain.

"Maybe you should play the game of buying your own cigarettes and shutting up." Valentina says after another one of his complaints.

"Maybe you should remember when you finish your-"

"Can we not?" Isabella interjects. "There's a dare for you Matteo. You must down your drink or kiss the player to your right."

Matteo looks at Eddie without even thinking.

"That's your left." Valentina says. She lifts her head up and looks down at him, no expression on her face. Then she leans over, closer to him, resting her elbows on her knees. Her eyes are searching his – she wonders whether he'll actually do it or not.

Matteo has never given it too much thought – yes, sometimes he finds himself checking her out or looking at her, but that's because she's objectively good looking. Not even that - she's beautiful. But he respects her in a way that automatically doesn't allow him to go further than that.

She leans in closer, and he does too, their eyes saying everything their mouths aren't.

Are you going to pull away before I do?

They're so close now he can feel her breath on his lips. She smiles then; a lopsided smirk that dares him to take the final step. He's the man, after all.

"Well?" She asks, and he can hear the grin in her voice without having to look away from her eyes. "Are you asking yourself how to lie about the cigarettes right now?"

"Oh, I can't take this anymore!"

Before Matteo understands what's happening, his head is being pushed forwards. Then, a pair of soft lips on his.

She tastes like the Sangria she's been drinking ever since they got on board. Sweet, warm, like summer. His eyes close and his mouth opens out of instinct. Her tongue on already against his lips, searching for his.

A small sigh comes out of her mouth then, but it's covered by the song playing on the speakers. He doesn't miss the sound she makes though, and it immediately sends blood to his groin.

Matteo doesn't realize he's been pushing back against the hand until he loses his balance.

"Was that so hard?" Isabella is standing up next to them, looking pleased. She's laughing, and Valentina is rolling her eyes, feigning being ashamed.

He brushes it off and tries to make a joke of it.

The game continues as usual, but Matteo can't focus anymore.

He wants more.

He wants to know what makes her make that sound so he can hear it over and over again.

"Are you even paying attention?!"

Isabella is on his back again, looking at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Are you incapable of doing a simple task?" Isabella groans, skipping over whatever challenge it was that involved him.

Matteo spares a look in Valentina's direction.

She's not looking at him but she's proudly smiling to herself.

They've been playing this game for months now; a silent game where the only rule is winning. They never talk about it but they both kept score.

And right now, she's definitely winning. 

----

Chapter 14 will be up tomorrow!

xoxo,

Ronnie