The Mafia's Legacy

Chapter 3: Beauty and her Beast

Victoria P.O.V

Despite her father's concerns, Victoria is showered and dressed within thirty minutes. Her mother, Elina, had picked out a stunning formal matte emerald dressing gown, the color an almost exact replica of her eyes. It has a thick strap with a gold R that rests directly in front of her right shoulder while the middle of the dress looks like it has been pulled towards her left hip, synching her waist.

“Promise you'll be on your best behavior tonight, Bella Mia." Elina declares. Her voice is soft, like the press of a hand over cotton, as she pulls Victoria's loosely curled hair over her left shoulder and secures it with gold clips at the back.

“When am I not, Mama?" Victoria questions, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. She meets her mother's wise hazel eyes in the mirror. While Victoria is a young beauty, using a full face of make-up to extenuate her full lips, high cheekbones and long eyelashes, Elina is a timeless beauty in a way that anyone from any culture or age can look at her and pause, wondering how such a creature has withstood the elements for so long.

With some simple dark glossy red lipstick and mascara, Elina has half of her straight black hair pulled back into a delicate braided bun, little shimmering gold pins weaved in between, while the rest cascades down her back in loose waves. The loose strands of hair nearest her face draws attention to her dark, wine red dress. It's more form fitting than Victoria's with two thick straps creating a modest v neckline. The gold Russo 'R' sits right in the middle of her sternum, clearly visible even with the dark brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders and elbows.

She looks like a regal queen ready to pass judgement over her subjects.

Victoria loves it.

“Victoria." Elina warns, her gold cross swinging against her neck as she places the leftover bobby pins on the vanity.

“Elina." Victoria scrunches her nose and raises her voice an octave to match her mother's.

Elina sighs, her thick brown heels clinking across the hardwood floor as she glides to her wooden jewelry box on top of her dresser. “I blame your father for that fire in your heart, you get it from his side of the family, not from mine."

Victoria purses her lips, said heart ready to retaliate in protest when she catches sight of what her mother is pulling out of the jewelry box. Any fire within her suddenly smokes to ashy cinders.

“Those are..." Victoria whispers, her heart climbing its way up her throat as her eyes widen into saucers bigger than the full moon.

“The family pearls." Elina pronounces. Her lips curve up slightly as she holds a pair of earrings toward her daughter. The emerald green jewel glimmers in the warm chandelier light, the small cream pearl dangling slightly from the bottom of a gold twist chain about the length of her index finger.

“Mama... what's going on?" Victoria whispers, her voice thick with emotion. She can feel the initial shock falling away, her face now twisting into a pout. The family pearls are one of their families' biggest treasures. For her to want Victoria to wear them in front of the Amato's is equivalent to saying they trust the Amato's with their everything.

Elina tuts, gently pushing the earrings into her daughters' ears. Her eyes darken as she traces her fingers over the earrings, a film of sadness washing across them before resting her hands on Victoria's shoulders and squeezing tightly.

'What isn't she telling me?' Victoria ponders. She parts her lips, ready to keep questioning her mother, when three knocks boom throughout the house.

Victoria looks to the open doorway in time to see one of the guards walk past and nod, Richard's voice alerting of the Amato's arrival loud enough to be heard from the in-ear piece across the stillness of the room. When she looks back to her mother, any trace of hidden apprehension is gone.

“Let's go, Cara Mia."

Victoria blinks away the moment, slinking her arm through her mothers' to descend to the dining room. She hears Dante before she sees him, his raucous laugh rumbles through the air just as loud as thunder. Peering over the banister, Victoria watches as Dante and her father shake hands in front of the entrance table, kissing each cheek in familiarity.

Dante looks toward the staircase and his smile grows even wider, his eyes squinting in joy. “Ah, Signora!" He bellows, arms outstretched in front of him. Elina chuckles and pulls slightly on Victoria's arm to causing them to pause momentarily in the middle of the steps. Elina dips her chins, curtseying as Dante walks to the edge of the stairs, one arm extended to help her down the remaining steps.

Victoria smiles wide as Elina and Dante greet each other, sweet pleasantries passing between them as Dante delivers her to Giuseppe. She places her hand on the railing and lifts the bottom of her dress up slightly, ready to follow the parade of people into the dining room. She makes it down two steps, eyes trained on the white tiles underneath her, when a tanned hand appears in front of her, a thick white scar dragging all the way from the tip of the index finger to the opposite side of the palm.

Victoria lifts her eyes and freezes. Two almond shaped orbs the color of soft earth gaze at her. She presses her lips together tightly on the gasp of air trying to escape as her skin prickles with chills at the same time a raging fire erupts within her belly. The orbs track the movement, flicking to her lips before returning to stare into her eyes, amusement now speckled within them like flowers taking root in the soil.

“It's been a while, Bell." Antoni's voice is deeper than she remembers as he whispers his old nickname for her, and his accent is stronger too.

But the familiarity of that name as it passes his lips is still as cold as the Italian Alps.

“Yes, it has, Beast. I hope you've been well." Despite herself, Victoria finds a calm relief settle in her bones alongside the simmering anger in her belly at his childish claim to call her Bell, instead of Bella or Signora, purely because it annoys her.

Victoria places her hand gently into Antoni's allowing him to help her down the remaining steps before snatching it away. Antoni snickers behind her as she strides into the dining room. She looks toward the plates set on the right of the table as everyone starts sliding into their seats.

Giuseppe is at the head of the table, Elina to his right and Dante to his left. Dante's wife, Lucia, is sitting to her husbands' right. That leaves Victoria next to her mother ...

And Antoni sitting right next to her.

Perfect.

Antoni brushes past Victoria, the movement close enough to cause her dress to swish. He pulls out her seat, eyebrows raised and dimples smirking expectedly.

Victoria resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Grazie."

Antoni hums in response before taking a seat next to her. Victoria takes the opportunity every time she passes Antoni a dish to inspect any changes in him. And, despite his insistent ability to grate on her every nerve, she must admit he looks as charming as ever.

His black hair is in its usual style – cropped right above the ears and slicked back with a lemon scented gel – though the fresh undercut peeking out at the back is new. His suit is a deep navy, just like all the Amato men, and matches beautifully against his white dress shirt and black Italian leather shoes.

He seems to have grown into his lanky limbs, too. She slides her gaze from his shoulder to his waist, and her throat runs dry. He's probably hiding a fully toned chest and arms ripe with muscle underneath that suit, no trace of baby fat in sight, if his sharp jawline is any indicator.

Victoria coughs softly and turns her head toward the head of the table. Giuseppe and Dante are sitting with their heads tilted close together, their voices low as whispers seemingly crawl between them. Her father's eyes are narrowed, the lights from the candles causing shadows to dance across his face.

Antoni nudges her arm with his elbow. “So, are tiger lilies still your favorite flower, Bell?"

“Hm?" Victoria looks away from her father, and startles at how close Antoni's arm is to her. She can feel his warmth seeping out from under his suit and into her own skin. She clears her throat, “Oh, yes. They are. Why?"

“No reason." Antoni spares a glance toward Dante and Giuseppe and Victoria swears she sees something dark flash across his eyes and his fingers twitch on his fork. By the time she glances to his hand and back to his face, any trace of that cold rage is gone. Indifference slides off his body as his eyes dance with glee and his smirk deepens the dimples etched into his cheeks.

Victoria forces herself to smile sweetly. Maybe if she prays loud enough the wind will whisk her away. Far, far away.